I'm in Marbella

I’m writing this to you from sunny Malaga, more specifically from a rooftop in the old town of Marbella, where everyone seems to drink Rioja and my only example of paella so far has been a rice dish that was definitely egg-fried. The colours are beautiful though — bright whitewashed walls, pastel pink seas at sunset, magenta and mango bougainvillea. My eyes are feasting.

I left my laptop cable at home on purpose to make sure I didn’t work too much, with the undesired effect of me having to write this as a race against time between me and when my laptop (which is currently blasting Hold The Line by Toto) will finally mean it is totally depleted instead of just pretending.

I love Spain. Every region is so different but so familiar, the same searing hot sun shining down in golden waves, touching everything with a little magic. I particularly love Spanish ham, and last night at a bar in a tiny alleyway I was served some of the most delicious acorn-fed lomo I’ve ever had in my life. Salty, melting, rich, served on paper.

Today, I’m heading up to Ronda, a place I’ve been before but with people who have never seen its majesty. I truly think Ronda might be one of my favourite places on earth. No town needs to have so much intense beauty, but it does, the gorge creating a forced end to the streets where tarmac and public park give way suddenly to towering cliffs. I am going to stand on the edge like I did last time, and watch the vultures over the distant mountains.