Day 43, 25 July 2014, Brussels to Malaga (flight), Malaga to Fuengirola (train), Fuengirola, up the hill in a taxi, to home for the next 7 weeks. Been a cracking day all told actually. Due to just buying my flight yesterday, it's one of the first times I've ever flown on a flexible ticket. So as with hotel rooms (pay for the single at the last minute, turn up to the hotel and be popped in a superior king...), I bought the cheapest expensive flight going on the 2 pm service direct to Malaga, Spain. But it wasn't going to land until 5.40 pm... so knowing there were a couple of unsold seats on the 11.55 am flight (which would have cost an extra €60 to book), I rolled into the airport at 10.40 am and got a very warm welcome from the Brussels Airlines service desk... of course madam, we can fit you on the 11.55 am, but it's only a middle seat - is that OK? Si Senor... so Spain off I went. As it turns out it was actually the middle seat of Row 2. Row 1 ("Business") was actually empty. Not a huge difference really, but lovely to have no neighbours and more leg room, so I got the nod before take off and was soon happy as a clam in the best seat in the house. Another bonus of paying a bit for a flexi-fare was food... No coughing up €4 for a curling up sandwich... Nope, nice hot lunch, few glasses of wine, coffee and a Belgian chocolate or two. Fed and watered, landed on time into the brilliant white sunlight of the Costa del Sol and due to being one of the last to check-in... my bag was the first one off. Quite mind-blowing actually that in just over 48 hours I've gone from heading to Wales to landing in holiday paradise. Excellent train trip from the Airport down the coast to Fuengirola... you know you're out of expensive middle-Europe (airport train €8.50) and into glorious southern-Europe when the cost of the 35 minute train ride is only €2.65. Almost put my neck out craning around to see the ocean and sandy beaches covered in umbrellas as we zoomed from town to town - chock-full of sunburned holiday-makers and a few pale-faces like me. Cabbie knew exactly where to head... Lew Hoad's Tennis Centre is a bit of a landmark in Fuengirola and I've been reliably informed he was an Australian from Glebe in Sydney who won Wimbledon in the 1950s and set up his tennis place here in the 60s. Learn something every day. Met the cats, met the neighbours, found the pool, explored the house, talked to another visiting friend, skyped with the owners currently in England and then it all went pear-shaped when the power (fans, wifi, phones, kitchen, everything) went off with a clunk. Had rather hoped it was just the master switch tripping. But unfortunately not. Rescued from drinking white Spanish wine and eating cashews by torchlight whilst reading my Kindle, one of my new found friends gathered me about 10 pm and took me for a late dinner at her house. Gosh it was nice to have ovenbaked chicken and a salad and drink - home cooking. Home after midnight it was just like camping... gas hot water for a bath and enjoying the breeze from the open doors as I slept downstairs on the very comfy lounge. Tomorrow might bring electrical assistance. I miss wifi and the world quite a bit as it turns out. But wow - 7 weeks in a lovely home with a pool, four feline companions (as the mood strikes them) and not too far to get anywhere. What a lucky, lucky girl I am.
(Today's picture is my neighbourhood, from my rooftop terrace.)