Malaga, moths, and moving

Oh, Malaga…such an interesting place. Laurel and I were SUPER pumped because it was our romantic last weekend (Laurel left Barca the Tuesday after). So, everything was romantic, including how sweaty I was after power walking all the way from my residencia to the Passeig de Gracia Renfe stop. Loco. We found also on our way there that our hotel was complete crap. The other girl we were meeting up with got there the day before and almost died of asphyxiation it smelled so bad. Then there was the fact that it was forty minutes outside of town, no small thing if you’re a student and you don’t want to pay for cabs. We spent a lot of time at the beach, and saw a ton of the town, but weren’t to down for paying for museums, as we needed to do things like eat. There was a real cool cultural fair going on at the same time (apparently Malaga wants to be the most culturally diverse place in Spain, and maybe even Europe). I bought nothing but the smells were glorious. We also got to see quite a show at the fair stage. There was quite an interesting (and fit!!!) 40 yr old man, maybe older, instructing Salsaaaaaaaaa. Very sassy. But, aside from this mans…ummmm…. intriguing pelvic thrusts, the other entertainment were the locals—of all ages, shapes, and sizes—following his directions. There was the very rouunndd boy who was working the other 9-year-old ladies. Then there was the teen that thought she was IT! but she was confused with the difference between a stripper video dancer and salsa. It was very sassy and as soon as Laurel loads the photos I’ll post it. That night we stayed chill, as the night before I slapped someone (let’s just say we are at times a bit overly careful with our purses and if we feel someone touching it we GRAB, including each other).
When we got back to our room there was someone there! Or something. I learned about laurel’s huge phobia of moths. I also learned how much noise three girls could make (ahem, even if the other two are observers) killing a moth. Don’t worry, Laurel took a video of that too but I have to edit it since my pants kept falling down since I was jumping on and off the beds and running around. The funnier part was that it disappeared and the real action was when I finally nabbed it the next night. It was very traumatic, for the moth and maybe Laurel who may or may not have peed herself. We also encountered some NAVY MENNNN, YUMMM, minus the fact that they were complete bros, and for those of who don’t know what I mean ask my Mom what a jughead is (i.e. dope). They were on the DESTROYERRRRRR NATO catching pirates, and he didn’t even get it when I said “Arrr, maty we be walking” when he asked what we were doing that night. How is he gonna catch pirates, I mean… they talk like that, right? Wink wink
We also had a special relationship with the hostel staff. They were clearly all family, we just couldn’t quite figure out what they’re roles were. There was Philippe, the little brother. He was pretty docile and sweet and always got us what we asked for… pretty much just ice, haha. Well, also a secador del pelo for Laurel and he LIED and said he had one, but it never turned up until two nights later. Oh, Philippe, how cute. Then there was Dad, and he was just a nice Daddy—super nice, opened the doors for us, and nicely told us to be quiet. Then there were to women. One cutey pa-tutey that would speak lots of Spanish with me and chat about the weather and this huge woman. The woman, we decided was a sister-in-law from Eastern Europe and that is why she was a bit colder and gruff, and HUGE, like a tower…think Julia Childs. The Bitter Brother, he was all mine. He wanted to tell us where to go (not in a creepy way) and had this running conversation with me—gleeech—about all the accents of Europe. We think he was just jealous of how darling Philippe was, and he was stuck talking to me because I was the only one that could really speak Spanish, Yayyyyy… So, now that you know about the family dynamics in the hostel, I think you can truly see how wonderful a trip it was, ahhaa.
Laurel and I caught a 3 o’clock flight and were at her place in Barca by 7-ish. Laurel packed (wahhh) while wrote a paper and we moved all of her crap to a hotel she was going to stay in for two nights with her mom, and one night with me! Now Dad, do you remember moving me into Edmonds? That’s sort of what it was like moving Laurel out of her dorm. Imagine two girls with bazillions of plastic bags, two large suitcases, a small one, and a number of full tote bags hailing a cab to go, essentially, down the street. But the hotel was glorious; I wish they had wifi so you (being my family) could stay there when you came. So we get in and Laurel checks in while I load the luggage cart-trolley thing, dropping a lot, as it’s hard to put huge heavy items on surfaces with wheels when you are also lacking a height advantage. The desk man said we could leave or stuff there and he would bring some up, we waited an hour, then we got a call in the room saying we should come down soon for our luggage, what? We also went out to a romantic dinner that night… well romantic as in Laurel bought me some pasta for moving her out and we were there with a bunch of friends who were leaving soon, too. Laurel and I watched a plethora of romantic comedies while I painted my nails and she straightened out all her luggage, including a care package for me! The spoils I got were: a hairdryer, two towels, two Tupper-ware, some plastic cups and silverware, Advil, the printer card for our university (I know four months in and I’m only now figuring it out), socks and a shirt. Laurel said our farewells over chocolate and churros with her wicked nice mom, and now we send loving voice notes to each other via bbm.

And then, yuck, ‘real life’ with classes and all.

As soon as Laurel posts photos they will be yours!!!

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