⑨Málaga

Written By Michael Rimar

Sep 19, 2026

My driver, Calle Beteta to the ALSA bus station, stepped out of the car - tall, longish gray hair, tie, no socks - appearing as a famed fashionista, Lagerfeld? No, I’m thinking of someone else, or just the image of a Mediterranean bon vivant, not an Uber driver. Oh, I see I opened with “my driver,” which perhaps sounds like I’m the bon vivant.

I somehow extricated my assigned window seat, usurped by a local elder, who’d likely traveled the route many times, but she smiled as it happened. 
Not much recognizable growing along the bus route. Many olive trees, some corn! From the bus, in Spain, I’ve seen no livestock, quite a contrast to the UK trains - all sheep all the time (plus cows).

I can already feel an eagerness that had been suppressed by Granada, illness?

Regularly seeing signage for “caviar ecologico” which I mention for no particular reason

I guess I am a  city guy. Malaga, city of 2 million people, just feels more comfortable to me. Physically, a little more open, than Barcelona - or certainly Granada. It’s 80° with 1% humidity – what is this Phoenix in March? An immediate awareness of homelessness, folks sleeping in doorways and such. I didn’t see that in Granada or anywhere in the UK (not that it isn’t there). I’m recalling that Granada had a small, but definite, edgy segment: urban outsider vibe, some of it the kind of leftover (!) hippie scene very visible in India, some was a speed user chic? I don’t see that in Málaga.

Right now, 3 PM, sitting in an outdoor café, malagueños and touristas finishing their lunch (dinner starts at 9, after all)…there’s a light sea breeze. I’m liking this so far.  But then…

Well, I can see that I am on the Costa del Sol. Lots of long, sheer dresses, some very short shorts, astoundingly dark tans and men walking around with open or no shirts (sadly not an appealing thing).
Am I really going here?
Sprinkled among the “usual” folks (I know, I know) are people who aren’t familiar to me. I’m conscious of seeing them as creatures in a zoo I’d never visited.  They are either ultra rich or wannabes.  I may not watch Real Housewives or Kardashians (there are probably more appropriate references…) but this is what they seem to aspire to. They really do walk the street, posed pout, photographing themselves. Top fashion house designs (I’m assuming). Older women (70s +) dressed as 25 yo’s.  Medical intervention level of thinness. Apologies if I’m offending, but it’s SO…alien for me. Our awesome humans are so varied.

I haven’t seen a vegetable section on a menu. Salads are generally unripe tomatoes with a few other things, rarely a leafy salad. Vegetarian options are usually some small amount of vegetable on a slice of bread, a tosta or pintxo. But no V E G E T A B L E S.  I buy cucumbers and red peppers to eat when I get home.

So when I viewed the menu for El Meson de Cervantes - I had a destination. First, they had sweetbreads, which was rather popular (available?) in SF/Oakland in the 90s to early 2000s, an unexpected love for me. Second, a few dishes actually came with vegetable sides. I was a solo diner in a noisy restaurant of twos and large groups. I sat and a señora perched by my table and asked “Agua? con gaz o no?” I was the fortunate diner to have the attention of the owner, though she surely surveilled the entire staff of mostly 20-30 somethings and every table. I asked if she was the lady of the house and she answered, “La reina.” Sweet. I ordered the sweetbreads and asked if I could have a side of the espinacas (which was listed accompanying the grilled baby octopus), she said “a partir?” (on the side, essentially). Yes! just as I hoped. I got a vegetable.

Quite a day, and quite a recovery? So many of my ailments have been soothed. By what? The wheat and the belly, time. For quite a while (since a strawberry picking in Watsonville when I was 22) I’ve had lower back issues to varying degrees. Yoga in particular has alleviated/reduced that - ok, let’s say “helped manage.” But recent years it’s been the trochanter (many thanks to Ms. Ribas, pilates guru, for making me aware of where and what) - kinda the point on the upper leg bone at the hip - it can be so tender that it limits my walking ability and/or willingness. That was true through London, Glasgow and Granada. Now, much relieved. Should I not have said that out loud? 🙏🏻

Michael Rimar
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