My next stop was Nerja. It seemed somewhat popular but the crowds never stepped aside the main walk so I simply kept my routes off the other tourists. There were no backpackers around and once again I didn't have a plan for the night. So first things first then: you sit down for a drink, enjoy your free tapas and read your book for a while. Then one thing leads to another and you end up knocking a door and renting a tiny little room from a house that belongs to an old lady with impossible spanish accent.
Beach, books, swim, fruits. Spoil yourself with a delicious meal in an Indian restaurant, it is your birthday anyway, and wonder what does all these Indian eateries do in a little coastal town south of Spain -did they just pop up because you happened to dream of some good mattar paneers and kormas and naan breads? Spend a night at a wonderful little venue with moroccan inspired deco and Real Mint tea -was it there just to make you smile again?
Also, some lovely yoga at the beach. Once I'm done, I go to chat with a guy who's sitting there in the middle of backpacks and bikes. Soon his friends also show up. Turns out they're a group of youngsters from Málaga, most of them with Argentinian origins, and I end up spending the night with them on the beach. They've come from Málaga by bike and as I sit the evening by the little bonfire, I'm trying hard to make my Spanish work again. When I get back to my little room, I got the four elements in me: scent of fire from the bon, summery seaside wind in my hair, feeling the salty waters on my skin and earth in the form of grains of sand.
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