The brass band finished rehearsing before 10 p.m., so it didn't steal my sleep — thank God and all the saints. Apparently they have some basic sense of consideration for their fellow humans. Or they just got tired. Either way — I slept.
I woke up the next morning at 8:30. Which for me is basically a luxury wellness package. I'll admit I was tired from walking, since the day before I'd covered almost 40 kilometers total. It was a good kind of tired though — the earned kind that makes you feel like your existence wasn't wasted. My legs, on the other hand, were as stiff as two wooden planks that had decided to cooperate purely out of politeness.
Over breakfast we agreed to meet in Mijas for coffee. I set off first, because walking isn't cycling. It takes me a good two hours to get there, my parents barely one. Fair enough. Even though I wasn't feeling exactly Olympic, the 13.7 uphill kilometers took me just over two hours, which is still a perfectly respectable result. I arrived first. Victory.
I did run into my dear mother on the way, but she carried on toward the town of Coín. Her minimum distance is 50 kilometers. I call that overdoing it. She calls it recreation.
In Mijas I stopped at the first open bar — because you shouldn't overcomplicate life. I ordered a small beer, since it's common knowledge (at least in my head) that alcohol relaxes the muscles and makes walking easier. Medicine doesn't exactly back this up, but I believe in the placebo. And in beer.
Shortly after, my dad showed up too. He wanted coffee. When I went to order it, I was told the coffee machine was broken, so he settled for a small beer as well. Flexibility is the key to happiness.
He arrived at just the right moment, because at that exact point I was wrestling with the Revolut app. Paying with your phone instead of a card. What can I say — for some things I'm still mentally parked in the year 2000. But since I don't want time running me over like a slow pedestrian on the highway, I decided to embrace progress. You can only really enjoy life if you know how to adapt in time.
My dad, an IT guy and a generally over-intelligent being, made the perfect mentor. He gave me short but effective instructions. Mijas is the kind of town where it's easy to get "stuck" if the sun is keeping you company. So we sat there, drank our beers, enjoyed ourselves like people with zero obligations in the world, and waited for Mum to arrive.
When she got there, I ordered her a small beer and — pay attention — paid the bill by phone for the first time. Small victories. Giant leaps for mankind. Or at least for me.
Then I headed back toward the campervan first. At that moment I genuinely wished I had a bike, because I'd have been home in half an hour. But since life isn't a wish catalogue, I walked. The descent took about an hour and a half. By the time I finally got there, my parents were already waiting so we could head to lunch together. So there wasn't even time for a brief existential reflection, let alone rest. I quickly washed up, changed, and — onward.
I was genuinely exhausted, and an hour-long siesta would have suited me better than anything else. But I told myself: I'll take my siesta at the airport. Until then, I'd enjoy my parents' company, which in the end is what matters most.
Dad and I went for calamari and roasted potatoes with a spicy tomato sauce and sour cream. Mum chose swordfish with vegetables. My parents were so hungry they finished off the entire bread basket before the food even arrived. After exercising I struggle to eat much, and I knew that if I ate bread, the calamari would be doomed. Since I love seafood, I wisely waited.
Good call — I couldn't have finished a whole portion of calamari anyway, so I gave the rest to Mum, who'd been the most active that day and badly needed the energy. Sharing food is also a form of love.
Since we were at a restaurant on the promenade, there was of course no shortage of people looking to make a quick buck. First we got a musical performance on some instrument I can't recall the name of. Since I support music, I gave the man €2, and so did Mum. A little later came the acrobats. What can I say — first come, first served. Personally, I'm not the type this impresses. The view of the sea is enough for me.
After lunch I wanted to go straight to bed, because food always makes me disgracefully lazy. Dad was immediately on board, but Mum said we were sticking to the plan today. So we headed to the train station and took the train to Málaga.
The train was packed, the ride lasted half an hour, and I suffered. No air, we had to stand, it was hot as hell. Which, after 26 kilometers walked to Mijas and back, is a punishment I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I was immeasurably happy when we finally got off. Fresh air. A blessing.
Central Málaga was swarming with people. Apparently nobody wanted to miss the New Year's lights and atmosphere. It was stuffy and loud here too — too much for my soul. But since you have to have at least one photo of Málaga's New Year's lights on your phone, we turned into tourists for a few minutes and then went for a drink.
None of us dared admit out loud that the whole thing felt a bit exhausting and unnecessary. We were all quietly looking forward to the trip home. I hoped the train would be emptier. Of course it wasn't. Stuffy again. But those are just details.
If I sum up the whole day: it was warm, full of walking, beer, good food, laughter, and wrapped in the best possible company. And in the end, that always wins.
