Baby, You can Drive my Scooter - Spring Break Saga, Malaga Edition

Hello all!

Sitting in my deep dark Harper-related depression, wondering why the universe had to add more reasons for me to not want to go home to Canada (reason one, obviously, exchange is awesome, reason two Tom Ford, 'nuf said, reason three sigh conservative majority... I am beginning to believe that 2012 will actually be the end of days.)  Perhaps I should cast my lot in with the NDP like so many of my fellow McGill students. Apparently, not only can you get elected in Quebec with minimal French skills, no political experience, or any real qualifications but you can still take awesome vacations to Las Vegas during the campaigning.  I thought my life goal was to become a Senator and all perks associated with that position, but maybe I should rethink this decision.  It sounds like being an NDP MP is the true place for a layabout good-for-nothing like myself who likes to make pretensions to having power and being important. 

I fear people across the nation (well at least my like-minded readers, its easier to please your audience when it only consists of two people, who may or may not have formed me in their likeness) may be asking questions like "Seriously, Canada? Seriously?!? So while I have no answers to that and other well articulating and thought-out questions about the future of the liberal party and the country at large, I will provide insight into the next best thing, myself of course.  Let me take you into the amazing life of Katie Sharp on exchange far far removed from this nightmare.  I will continue the story of Spring Break where I left off, en route to Malaga. 

 So from Barcelona Rhianna, Zoya and I flew to the vacation spot on the Southern Coast where all the British types like to flock too.  Our flight from Barcelona to Malaga cost all of 7 euros.  Yes. I am not lying or exaggerating in the slightest it was actually that cheap! Even though I still seriously dislike Ryanair, if you can't remember why you have not been paying enough attention, I really can't say no to that price.  But I wasn't friendly, let me tell you.  Those stewardesses were frightened to walk down the aisle past this girl's death stare. Yes I know, I am a very terrifying and intimidating person, I get that a lot.  The flight was fine, no delays or booking problems or anything like that.  Although one odd thing did happen, when we were walking through security, we had to show our passports to this man at the entrance, nothing strange in that. But as we walked through he said, repeatedly, "hey chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka.." Unsure how to respond, we just kept our heads down and plowed on forward.  I think you know you are in Spain when you get cat-called (is that even the appropriate term here?) at the airport.. by the security officers.  Very unsettling.

We made it into the tiny city of Malaga (although it is currently getting a subway system, more than Edinburgh can claim. However, I think it probably is just a make-work project to deal with the sky-high unemployment rates currently affecting the country).  We actually got a hotel in Malaga complete with 2 bedrooms (clearly designed for family-living, one large room with bed and then 2 singles in the other.. the littlest by far of the three of us, Zoya, ran ahead and shotgunned the big room, while Rhianna and I were shunted off into the children's playroom.) We also had an amazing balcony with beach chairs and a table.  It may be the closest to having a penthouse room I'll ever get.

We spent the first day enjoying the sunshine and lazing about the town at the beach and at the port.

Port in Malaga. Lots of boats out on the water too, it seems like a popular sport for cruise ships to stop off at.  We tried to rent kayaks, but unfortunately wasn't an option.

Beautiful day!

Zoya found the beach

I was there too

Mac was the only one of us brave enough to go into the still freezing ocean water.

Our patio! This is our friend Mac, a Canadian boy we met in Barcelona.  He is doing a gap year between high school and university.  His plans fell through so he decided to come join us on the beach in Malaga.

 Day 2: SCOOTERS!!!!!!!!!!
So probably one of my favourite things I have done so far.  We decided, with all the political unrest in North Africa, we wouldn't take our originally planned day trip to Morocco but remain within Spain.  If we couldn't go on risky adventures to potentially unstable areas of the world, I'll be damned if we were going to play it safe.  We decided to rent terrifying little bikes and explore the coast beyond Malaga.  Considerate as always, I decided to NOT inform my parents, or anyone really, that we were going to terrorize the countryside on the scooters.  Hoping for the best, I plopped down my credit card and demanded 3 bikes to take us anywhere.

These are the bikes we got, 2 2-seaters and one little dinky one.  Everyone but me experimented driving the bikes, but after Zoya accidentally accelerated too fast on her first attempt, and Rhianna flew off her bike after hitting the curb on a turn, I decided not to even attempt driving.  I was perfectly happy perched on the back enjoying the sunshine and taking photos.  And sometimes freaking out a little bit on sharp turns.

Safety first. Personally, I think we rocked the bobble-head look.

The boys, Peter and Mac, were the drivers of the big bikes.  Zoya and I were just along for the ride.  Although, I do get some credit for the journey, I was the official map-girl for the trip.  I held the map to Peter's back while driving through the streets of Malaga wildly pointing left or right and hoping that Mac and Rhianna would follow us.  It was actually very difficult, we only had a pedestrian map which did not indicate whether the streets were one way, so we may have circled our hotel on end until we finally made it back, altogether, at the hotel.

First stop: gas. It only cost 4 euros to fill up the tank!

Ready to begin our long journey to the Caves of Nerja

What a champ.  Rhianna only informed me after the fact that she had never actually driven on a highway before.  Her first time was on a dinky scooter in Spain.  A little freaky

We made it to the caves! The caves were so cool.  Very different from the caves my family went to in France.  The cave paintings were unfortunately closed off (I am not sure if it was temporarily or permanently) due to environmental concerns.  But the area itself was fascinating.  It was a huge cavern with an immense column through the middle (in fact the column holds the guinness world record for largest column in the world).  I definitely felt transported to the dwarf world portrayed in Lord of the Rings. Although, she does not know it, Rhianna was definitely the Gimley to my Legolas.  (even if I am significantly shorter, I think my large ears qualify me to elf-dom)

The gang (minus Rhianna) outside the caves.

From my privileged position at the back of the scooter, I was the official photographer! Peter's shoulder was great for resting the camera on.  You can see my in the mirror, shooting away.

Mac and Zoya stopped at a red light.  This is right before Peter gets confused and rushes off through a red light.  Driving in foreign places is rather complicated at times.

Safe-driving one-oh-one.  I would like some credit for my skills at the self-portrait, we were really moving at this point haha.  It is quite a rush to have the wind blowing through our hair and the sun on our back.  I highly recommend traveling by scooters if it is ever possible.

On the highway, you can really read it but we got up to 80 km/h! The whole time all I was thinking about was my poor skin.  We were not dressed appropriately for the speed we were going.  Shorts and tank-top does not over much protection against hard pavement. Remember mother, all this has already happened so no need to freak out now!

My view for the trip.

Rhianna driving away.

We took a quick break on the beach to cool down.

And that was Malaga.  It was phenomenal! A nice change from the typical touristy things, like endless museums and art galleries.  From here I flew off on my own to Vienna where I met up with Sarah Shulman for the second part of my journey.  And now, I am afraid, we have to return to the reality of Canada right now.. wait, wait do we? Didn't I just say that I went to Vienna...

Lets delve right in, and pretend I don't have a looming essay due tomorrow for my literature class American Innocence.

Keep reading lovely readers!