Making the most of Malaga

Two weeks before half term I suggested a spontaneous trip to Spain for sunshine and a change of air. The churros and nachos would do us good in February and I had heard that Malaga had reinvented itself as a cultural destination.

I had no aspirations for the trip, it was a one click decision, EasyJet flight and hotel all in one. The Hotel Casual looked clean online and had individually designed rooms with atmospheric wallpaper showing underwater fish, lighthouses or cityscapes.

We arrived to a warm welcome, both with the weather, and the helpful man at the train ticket machine. The three-day adventure began. I soon realised that the best way to imbibe a culture with a 10 year old would be to eat, look in the shops and stop whenever we saw something of interest.

Expressing yourself in a new place

How would we remember where our hotel was? Easy, the nearest bridge was El puente de la Misericordia so we just had to remember to look sad as we crossed it. How could we learn more spanish? Zebra crossings had countdowns of 50 or 60 seconds, so were great for practicing our numbers.

Hungry? What did the Malagans snack on? Almonds, on every street corner. How did they buy their fruit and veg? From beautifully arranged stalls that looked like they had been set up for a film set.

The central streets had smooth marble floors complete with freshly washed marble benches ideal for gymnastics. Street furniture like huge stone balls were perfect for balancing and wide streets ideal for cartwheels.

In comparison, museums would have been dull, with rules, small labels, nothing to touch, no sensory stimulation, not even any noise to spark interest. Instead, we spent the equivalent entrance money on churros and chocolate.

On the streets we found beat boxers, a violinist, puppet show with Bob Marley singing reggae, free caramelised pistachios to try, endless menus to read, people to ask directions from, more graffiti, road signs and boards showing the temperature.

A day out to Nerja proved that beaches aren’t just for summer. The cove became the space to display ‘ancient’ terracotta that we dug up. Ironic as we were actively avoiding museums. The burnt orange pieces were reassembled like a roman puzzle. The sand was a different colour and texture from home and provided a luxurious scrub for each other’s feet.

Holiday props: A scarf was perfect for wrapping round your head, making a tent, lining a sandy seat, waving in the breeze like a flag or turning into an elegant skirt.

Questions arose like why is the sea different shades of blue? How much is a Euro worth? Why are the pillows long? Why do they wear coats when it’s hot for us? And we tried to answer them with guesses or ‘just because’.

I have learnt a new tourism, one with no map, just the senses. With no plan just the hours in the day. No set mealtimes, we just listened to our stomachs and definitely NO museums, (because I can do that anytime on my own or with other adults).

I doubt I will get to go to Spain with just one child again and I would have missed so much if I had done it ‘my way’.

My daughter is sensory, that means she loves to touch and hear and see and smell everything. Malaga may have reinvented itself in the last 20 years as a city of culture but we were not the beneficiaries. Better by far were the smells and textures of the real world, the one that connects and divides cultures and gives us a true picture of life in another corner of the world.

Non-stop sensory stimulation from take-off to landing