So. Spain, round two. We're in Málaga. Just had a quick dinner at 100 Montaditos. Lesley approved, which means she will be allowed to live. We arrived after a couple visits to Gibraltar (where, it seems, all adorable men have been hidden away) from La Línea, the Spanish town that borders Gibraltar. For the first 45 minutes of this bus ride, I was seated next to a Spanish man who decided that I needed a tutorial and proceeded to educate me on the difference between g and j, and then drill my pronunciation of Algeciras, Gibraltar, Goya, and Argentina. When I mentioned our intention to visit the Picasso museum, his eyes went from sleepy boredom to...something else and he asked if I'd ever been to the Prado. When I replied in the affimative (and in fact had a postcard from there in my backpack to show him), we spent the rest of his time on the bus discussing our favourite painters and paintings in Madrid. I enjoyed it, but it was exhausting. My Spanish is for directions and restaurants only.

I doubt I'll have a chance to post again before returning home, so thanks for following. See you all soon (-er than if I just stayed here in Spain).