I’m going to try to tell you how I feel about Málaga, Spain.
This city sits right on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea in the Iberian Peninsula. The city itself is all about tourism. However, one hour, due North, on thin, unmarked roads sits the village of Sayalonga. I was there in 2015. I keep the attached photo on my favorites list. Every time I run by it while looking for something else, I’m compelled to take another look just as I did a few minutes ago. I can see the small bungalow that I will buy or rent for 2 weeks, or months, years, or decades —— someday! I just want to be there. Everything else in my life aside —- disregarding everything else in my life, I just want to be there.
I yearn. I’m wistful. I’m tinged with melancholy.
As I search the google machine for the right words to describe how I feel about Spain, I get a whole bunch of words which nobody uses. Apparently, yearning leads to wistfulness, which leads to melancholy, and can make you pensive (no relation to the outgoing VP — GROAN!!!).
My 17 days in Spain was an unforgettable adventure. That’s it! That’s the word I was looking for. Adventure is the right word! Adventure, google tells me, includes, the unusual, excitement, and hazardous activity.
It’s the contrast between Spain and the oh-so-very ordinary routine life I live right now that sustains my longing to re-visit Spain. Certainly, I realize there are thousands of places around the world (Bangladesh?) more interesting-stimulating than semi-rural Pittsboro, where we live now. Spain had just the right balance of unusual (Sagrada Familia pictured above), exciting (Flamenco), and hazardous (cliffside olive groves).
I shall return!
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