Torremolinos, here we are

After a long but uneventful day, we made it to Malaga where we were met by our landlord, Enrique. I think we both were expecting a youngish man, so we're surprised to discover he was older than we are, walked with a cane, and although Spanish, talked with a Scottish burr.  Turns out he'd lived in Scotland for 34 years and was married to a Scottish woman. He was also charming and funny and made us feel so welcome. 

One interesting point of our flight was that we were accompanied to Malaga by the Kazachstan women's ice hockey team (about 40 young women) and unlike what stereotyping might expect, they were quiet and very well behaved. But perhaps that's because their accompanying coaches looked pretty serious and expected nothing else from them. 

Here is our apartment building. Look for the AC unit on the left side three floors from the top. That's us.our balcony looks out to the Mediterranean, which, while reminiscent of our home view, is lacking the freighters. It faces East and this morning due to jet lag we saw the sun rise up out of the sea.

We may be in Spain, but it's a haven for the British. They are also determined that since they are on holiday they should be sunning. So we see older men, with bare hairy chests, spindly legs and balding pates, gamely walking on the Paseo Maritimo soaking up the sun, while we are bundled under sweaters and jackets shivering because the temperature is no more than 14C, not warm at all. 

The other evidence is that since it was Sunday, several restaurants were offering Sunday roast. Here's mine. Geordie really wanted to have some. Note, the cabbage, the Yorkshire pudding and mashed potatoes with gravy. There was also a choice of beef, chicken and/or gammon ham. I had the rather boring chicken while Geordie opted for a combo of beef and ham. 

The sky has been a brilliant blue even though it's quite cool. There's a breeze off the water that beings the cold air. Here we see an old mouldering winch used to haul boats out of the water by human power. 

Here is the view from the Paseo looking north.

And the view looking south. 

While the Brits are gobbling their Sunday roasts, the locals are out on the walking streets eating tons of seafood, drinking wine and socializing. The streets were packed with diners and shoppers. 

Last night we did eat Spanish in this old Bodega, with lots of photos of bull fighters and the remains of then bulls, who no doubt went out in a gallant fight. That's a tiny bit of Geordie's head in the lower left corner. 

Today we did grocery shopping, and on the way to lunch passed by these two murals painted on the side of the local school yard. Note the Canadian in his traditional costume following his traditional customs. 

And I'm sure this cow must have knit her own socks. Before she lost her front legs perhaps. 

Today's lunch was the menu del dia at a place we've eaten before. The owner was thrilled to see us again, because we've eaten here several times in the past. The view was of the street, and this magnificent orange tree laden with fruit. We saw juice oranges for sale today - 2 kilos for 1 euro) We didn't buy them but may well do so later since we have found an electric juicer in our kitchen cupboards. 

And that's all for now. Just a sampling of the things we've been up to in our first full day. No doubt we'll become very boring and predictable and who knows, we might find ourselves on the beach with our shirts off yet.