¡Hola!

I am writing from my host family's house in Granada, Spain. Here I live with a señora and her son who's my age, as well as an American roommate who's also my age. We also have a cocker spaniel named Milú who I love but who is still shy and nervous around us.

I arrived in Málaga, Spain on Friday after many hours of travel and no sleep. Somehow the airport had absolutely no outlets to charge my phone, so I wrote down the address of my Airbnb (since my phone was at 1%) and the nice lady at the information desk explained to me in slow Spanish what bus to take. After getting off the bus, I paced back and forth on the cobblestone street with my giant luggage, frustrated because I couldn't find the building numbers. As I paused in front of the building I suspected might be my Airbnb, a man was on his way into that same building. He saw me and asked, "¿siete?" I was looking for building 7 so I followed him inside, assuming he was affiliated with this Airbnb. It turns out he wasn't, but his apartment was across from the Airbnb. Maybe I shouldn't follow strangers into small elevators, but that's how I found my Airbnb.

I was dying to take a nap, but when I tried to plug my adaptor into the Spanish outlets, my rectangular plug didn't fit into the circular ones. So, I went to a "bazar", a small corner store, and bought a new charger. Finally I was ready for a siesta!

That evening I was drinking Coca-Cola alone in an empty tapas bar using their free wifi and feeling pretty sad that I didn't feel like the super cool solo-traveler that I wanted to be. In fact, I didn't even know how to order that Coke-- when I entered the bar, the bartender said something really fast in Spanish and after seeing my blank face, looked at me straight in the eye and said "drink."

The following day, the only full day I had in Málaga, was much better. I was originally planning on going to the beach, but since I accidentally woke up at noon, I had to cut that one out of my itinerary and head to the Picasso Museum.

I realized I was nearing the touristy part of Málaga when I noticed that the bottled water prices had risen from less than fifty cents (reasonably priced water can be found in the Bazars) to one Euro. However, the beautiful buildings made it worth it.

I appreciated the Picasso museum because as one walks along the rooms they are taken on a journey throughout his different styles of painting, starting from paintings that look more or less "standard" and ending in paintings of people that appear disfigured and demented, although of course Picasso would say that he paints what he sees. As I was about to leave the museum I saw a sign that said "archaeología" leading to the basement, so I followed it. It turns out the museum was built on top of Phoenician and Roman ruins, and there were small signs describing them. I also learned that the name Málaga comes from the Phoenicians' name for the city: Malaka. It also most likely comes from their word for salt, "malec", which is a similar word in other semitic languages, such as "maleh" in Arabic.

I left the wonderful air-conditioned museum for the hot streets of Málaga again because I knew there was an Islamic fortress called an "alcazaba" that I wanted to see. On my way there, I ended up passing the ruins of a Roman theatre.

The walls of the Alcazaba are on the other side of the same hill in which the Roman theatre is preserved. Entering wasn't free, but I was able to get tickets to both the Alcazaba and the castle that's farther up the hill, Gibralfaro, for a reduced price when I showed them my student ID.

The walk up to the Gibralfaro was difficult, but I'm glad I stuck with it, because the views of Málaga from the top were beautiful.

I'm getting tired now, since this is my second day in Granada, but here's a picture of the first real Spanish meal I had in Málaga: paella and sangría.