I left Geneva as the dawn slowly lit into its shadows. It was the first time the skies were without a cloud, all shaded blues, deep pinks, and every lavender in between. Moving through the streets, it was as though I had placed a sharp focus, filter over everything and was turning the lens with each second the sun inched upwards. My God, what a sight.
Very much matched by the vividness of Málaga.
First, let me mention the food here.
There are kiosks all along the Costa del Sol coast. At each kiosk is a wood open-fire inside of a makeshift boat. Inside of this magical creation, men (#notallmen) shove a wooden stake, on which are stacked salted fresh sardines. They cook the sardines on this open fire across the boardwalk from any given restaurant and one orders as many stakes as one imagines they might eat. Served with a slice of lemon, you also receive fresh and perfectly crusted bread.
Both my breakfast and lunch, this will now become a staple of my diet while in the region. Also, I would very much like to bring one of these boat open-fire things back to Canada. If anyone can think of how I might do this, other than sailing it home, kindly message. Please note, I am in fact lying (HI CBSA!).
Now. Regarding Spain. One of my most important childhood memories is shared with momma, here in this country. While quite young, we traveled throughout Madrid and neighbouring areas; I remember so clearly the attention she was receiving, completely unknown to her, from every man who passed. I also remember throwing a complete hissy fit when she refused to purchase for me a neon orange pencil case. Such a hissy fit that she eventually caved and I cherished that damn thing for at leas ten years, until the zipper broke. Trust that if it were still usable, I would take it to work meetings and use the pencil crayons inside to take notes.
I am now staying in my own space since mid October. I had forgotten how much I cherish the room and the comfort of spreading out. And spread out, I did. Jésus, the owner of my apartment, lives beneath my place and very kindly nearly yelled for me that if I should get into any kind of trouble, I call him at any time and he will collect me in his car. I don’t know what kind of guests he’s had in the past, but I am suddenly thinking I need to make my life a lot more exciting.
The apartment is gorgeous. I chose it because it is nautically themed and I am an easy sell. Five minutes away from the water, my bedroom overlooks the sea and I can watch the sunset.
But ocean heals and softens, while desert buries and hardens. Perhaps my belonging to the sand is because these are the things I need more than anything else in my present. I know wholeness will find me by water. Always.”
I was not wrong.
The image of this piece is of my present view. I think that, perhaps, for the last few months of this sabbatical, I’ll aim to find an apartment by an ocean to swim out my days.
Today, I am grateful for:
1. It’s gentleness. It has been a while since I have felt simply peace. It is a lovely and welcome shift.
2. Seeing elderly couples walking hand-in-hand. You are lovely. Thank you.
3. Literal low-hanging fruit hung over fences and into the street. My entire day walking around, I have been picking these fruit (any fruit. All fruit) and eating them. Thanks, neighbours; since you all say hello as I walk past, I figure you’re okay with feeding me too.
Málaga | March 19, 2019