Let’s Put the Tourists on the Bright Red “Hi, I’m a tourist” Bus

We consider Tuesday to be the first real day of the honeymoon.  We woke up at 5am Spain time since our bodies said, “It’s only 11pm on Monday!  Get up!”

The downside to that is nothing is open that early in the morning.  The bonus was sunrise.

I am firmly convinced that the sun rising over the mountains of Spain and casting the first light on the Mediterranean Sea is one of the top ten most beautiful things in the world.  It is breathtaking, peaceful and, for us, a symbol of a new beginning.  Here we are, our first real day of our honeymoon and still in the first few days of marriage.

The morning ended up being one of those “it was funny now that we look back on it” but there was some irritation during the actual experience.

First, Stephen broke the coffee maker.  Well, we aren’t sure if it was already broken or if him plugging it in wrong and tripping the breakers in the penthouse shorted out the machine.  In any case, after resetting all the breakers and getting the lights back on (it’s a little dark at 5am), we have no coffee maker.  So we decide to use the electric teapot to brew coffee.  It worked….sort of.

By the time we had coffee made and enjoyed and were dressed, the sun was coming up so we decided to take pictures of sunrise.  Unfortunately, that’s when Stephen locked us out on the terrace.

To be fair, their terrace doors have a major difference from ours in the States – there are no outside latches or handles.  This is, I assume, to prevent theft and everyone grows up accustomed to this and either doesn’t shut the door all the way or has someone inside in case of an accidental “I locked myself out” moment.  We were neither accustomed to this nor did we leave someone inside.

We were locked outside for about 2 hours since reception didn’t open until about 8am or so.  I passed the time by promptly going back to sleep for about an hour or so while Stephen tried to flag someone down.  Eventually he did get the attention of the lady working reception and she came up to let us inside.  She was very nice, didn’t give him any flak for it, and warned us to be careful in the future.

By that time, we were starving and went to Club Marbella (mar-baya), our resort’s sister resort, for breakfast.  Stephen had a traditional English Breakfast for the first time and loved almost all of it.  The sausage was a little weird looking…good, but weird.

We made plans to head towards downtown on the train to try to see some of the major sights like the Catedral, the Picasso Museum, the castles, and a few other things.  So we hopped on the public train (which was very safe, very clean and filled with people), and rode it all the way to El Centro.

El Centro is large, bustling, crowded and beautiful.  Fountains and statues are in every roundabout, the buildings, while tall, aren’t the metropolis skyscrapers we know in the US.  And, overlooking all the modernity, is Castillo Gibralfaro, Castillo Alcazaba, and Catedral.  These three major landmarks are the beautiful, ancient reminders of Spanish history.  The influence, while largely Arabian, is infused with Greek, Roman, and Spanish and makes for a beautiful feast for the eyes.  The architecture alone is astounding; when you add the sprinkles of ancient trimmings – statues, fountains, ruins – you end up with a scene that feels like a history book come to life, and not in a cliched fashion.

When we left the major train station, a tour bus was waiting at the curb.  On a whim, we decided to be tourists and take the city tour.  So we paid our 8 euros apiece, grabbed our headphones, tuned it to English and prepped the camera.

It was worth it.

We not only got a better idea of where specific things were we wanted to see, but we learned about the history of the city, gained a new appreciation for city bus drivers, and didn’t have to worry about getting around the city and dealing with the stress of a foreign city and foreign language.  Plus we could snap pictures freely as the bus made frequent stops in front of famous landmarks.

The whole tour took about 2 hours to complete.  By that time, it was nearing dinner so we grabbed a Spanish McDonald’s in the train station while we waited for the return train and did some shopping.

When we returned to the penthouse, it was getting late so we decided to just get some beer at the convenience store on the corner and stay in for some relaxing drinks.  We perused the local television – a mix of British shows and Spanish shows – found a British cooking show and wound out the rest of the night on the couch.

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