After a 3.5 hour journey over three different buses, I arrived in Granada on Thursday. It’s the first hostel I’ve stayed in on this trip that I haven’t gotten lost or had to turn around and go back somewhere, which I was amazed by as it’s been the one that’s been the biggest pain in the arse to get to.
On Sunday I arrived in Seville. I wasn’t in the best of moods as my sense of navigation wasn’t up to scratch, resulting in me carrying my backpack that weighs the same as a small child for an extra 20 minutes. Whilst I was checking in, I was notified that there was a free dinner at 9pm, but it couldn’t wait as the only thing I had eaten since breakfast was a kit kat, so I popped to burger king for my first dinner, then had a risotto for my second dinner. Continue reading
I had another early start on Thursday to catch the train from Malaga to Ronda, and it seems as though for the time being that I have also left the nice weather behind too. I walked so much during my time in Malaga that I was pretty sore, plus there was no safe way out of the top bunk in the hostel apart from hoping for the best, so the amount of bruises I had from climbing in and out of bed didn’t really help.
On Monday I had a 4am start to catch a flight to Málaga. I had not been out of bed before 8 in over three months but made it to the airport.
Once I arrived and checked into the hostel, I went for a walk up the Alcazaba which had a pretty good view from the top. I also had a look through the market which is quite impressive; the food does stand out a lot more than in English markets. To end the day I visited the Picasso museum, there were more paintings in there than I had expected and was quite interesting.
