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April 5 – Nerja to Malaga, 1591 km
Breakfast at the inn, and our bags packed. It's 9:30 and I'm running a bit behind this morning. Mike has just headed to the supermarket without me. I decide I should help him but when I get to the supermarket I cannot find him, but he has the keys and so I am locked out. I go back to the pension and wait for him.
The morning is beautiful! The sun, being in the east, will be at our backs as we ride west to Malaga. There's still a headwind but I don't think it's as strong as yesterday. Mike returns. We settle our finances, divide the groceries and pack. He is being more reasonable in his shopping since my histrionics in Montefrio.
We leave beautiful Nerja at 10:30. At first the road climbs, but it's not the constant climbing and falling that we had yesterday afternoon. Soon the road straightens and levels out. The headwind is almost as strong as yesterday but at times we are protected by the bluffs above 
us. Today the wind seems to bother Mike more than it does me.
By early afternoon, Malaga's condo towers begin to appear on the horizon. It takes another 10 km to reach the centre of town. I had hoped to enjoy a relaxed afternoon in the sun but Fate had conspired against us. The tourist office had recently moved and isn't where either of our guides direct us to go. We ask at hotels and stores if they know where it is and waste the next two hours on a wild goose chase. When we give up on that, we begin looking for a place for the night. We agree on the fifth pension we look at. After I wash up, I go looking for a travel agent who could tell me about bus or train schedules to Sevilla tomorrow. I want to pick up my Poste Restante mail that I could not access during Semana Sante. I find an English-speaking agent who recommends I take the bus. He doesn't have up-to-date fare information so he gives me the phone number of the depot to get more details.
I ask Mike to call the depot for me to inquire about schedules and fares, but he says I should learn to do it myself. That would be pointless, as even when I can formulate a question in Spanish I cannot understand the answer. He is just being his old self, not wanting to communicate on my behalf. I bite my tongue because he is right - when I have eventually had enough of his selfish antics I will want to travel alone, and then I will need to manage my own affairs. I set off to visit the depot in person, but it isn't at either of the two locations listed in our guides. I go to the train station instead, pick up schedules and
return to our pension. Mike finally relents and calls the depot for me. It turns out the bus costs significantly more than the train so I decide to take the early morning train. Mike wants to visit North Africa. He investigated taking a ferry across the Mediterranean to Ceuta, a Spanish possession on the North African coast. Our map shows a dotted line, indicating a ferry from Malaga, but apparently there is no such boat.
PHOTO 1: old Nerja
PHOTO 2: Nerja, "the balcony of Europe"
PHOTO 3: the Roman aqueduct outside of Nerja
PHOTO 4: the rocky coastline we are following
PHOTO 5: downtown Malaga
PHOTO 6: strolling in Malaga
PHOTO 7: outdoor cafe
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