Takin' It To The Street

The City of Fuengirola has lots of things going on this summer, artesan markets, free movies on the beach, flamenco at the castle, special exhibits and expositions. Some we enjoy. Some we avoid.

Something new this year is a display of seven "monumental" steel sculptures by artist Juan Méjica. They are scattered along the Paseo through a good stretch of town. The collection, and other works, have traveled around Spain. One piece is directly across the street from us. It makes for a nice change. 

(Click the images to monumentalize.)

It's Da Plane!

While having coffee on the beach Thursday morning, we heard the sputter of an odd-sounding motor and looked up to view a big fat sea plane. It wasn't the plane from the TV series "Fantasy Island" ("Da plane! Da plane!")... At least I don't think it was. And, thankfully, no one was dropped off on our beach. But it did land (it did water?) before quickly taking off again. It appeared to come awfully close to some jet skis and sailboats, but my viewing must simply have been deceiving.

I was able to snap my first picture from our table before the plane headed back into the sky. It circled and returned, splashing down a few more times and giving me the opportunity to run down to shore for more shots. (Click for a closer look.)

AND OFF AGAIN INTO THE WILD BLUE YONDER.

Sweater Weather

The other day, as I walked on the Paseo in the hot summer sun, a woman and a little boy (maybe 2 years old) crossed to my side of the street as they headed for the beach. In Spanish, the mother said to the little boy, "Look. There's Grandpa!" The little boy beamed and ran toward a shirtless man who was just about to step onto the sand. The boy stopped abruptly.

"Mamá," he shrieked. "Grandpa has a sweater!"

The Cat In The Hat

I used to hate wearing hats. Since arriving in Spain, however, I discovered that if I wear a decent hat when it rains, I don't have to carry an umbrella.

That hat became known as my Frank Sihatra Not (as friend Darrin said when his tongue slipped, meaning to say "Frank Sinatra hat" — click here for that story).

I've had a shiny head for many years and the sun has never bothered me. This year, however, I've noticed I'm not as tough (meaning "young") as I used to be when it comes to the sun's heat. I've been hit with heat exhaustion a couple of times and I don't want to end up with heatstroke.

It's time to give in to the hat. (My father hated hats even more than I do and he gave in to the hat when he was in his 40s.)

SLIM AND SPORTY.

I popped into a local market this morning while out for a walk and I found a lightweight, casual cap (as opposed to the two summer-weight Frank Sihatra Nots I have in the house).

I like everything about the cap except for the fact that it's got a little tag that says "SPORTS." There were other hats without the tag but they were heavy canvas. I shared my thoughts with the shop owner. He told me I was "delgado" and "un deportista" (slim and an athlete) and "Eh-sports" (his pronunciation) was appropriate in my case. I bought it. Hook line and sinker.

So, back to the title of this post: I am the Cat and this is my hat.

Flipping Out

A common sight on our beaches is kids performing aerial feats using a stability ball buried in the sand or a Bosu ball (a half ball) wedged in firmly.

On my walk past the castle and back the other day, I watched one exceptionally talented teen and one of his friends. The athlete pictured always landed on his feet. His friend? Sometimes.

(Click the image. You'll flip!)

THE FRIEND.  "JORGE, ARE YOU OK?" HE ASKED HIM IN SPANISH. HE GOT NO RESPONSE.
"JORGE, ARE YOU OK?" STILL NO RESPONSE.
"JORGE, IF YOU'RE OK, GET OUT OF THE WAY. IF NOT, CALL YOUR MOTHER!"

JORGE GOT OUT OF THE WAY.

Meet The Neighbors

On my way back from coffee this morning, I bumped into four of our year-round neighbors. Our building is fairly empty much of the year. During the summer months, out-of-town owners, many from Córdoba, come down to enjoy time at the beach.

The building will be completely full during the month of August. But throughout the rest of the year, we have it (and the pool... and the elevators!!!) primarily to ourselves.... except for those four year-round neighbors I mentioned earlier. They're all charming and two, especially, are extremely stylish.

WATERMELON!!!

ALWAYS A DIVA. SHE LICKED HER LIPS, DEMANDED THE WIND MACHINE,
AND GAVE ME HER BEST SIDE. 

Say, Watermelon!

My sister Dale used to say "Watermelon!!!" instead of "Cheese!!!" when she smiled for a photo. It would result in a big, still cheesy, smile.

WATERMELON!!!

As for San Geraldo, this is his idea of lunch. A bit of egg salad and a little slice of watermelon.

NO CHEESE.

The Man Bun

Not everyone is a fan of the style. However, if I had hair, I would probably try a man bun.

But, trust me, even if you have a serious aversion to the man bun (for example, Natalie at Knatolee's World), you might actually find something else to like in these photos taken around Fuengirola.

(Click the images for bigger buns.)

MAN BUNS.

MEN'S BUNS.

THE END.

Wading With The Virgin

Saturday, we began the night of the Fiesta de la Virgen Del Carmen watching from our terrace as the procession arrived from the church in the centre of Los Boliches and turned west onto the Paseo. Then we headed downstairs to watch their progress. We slowly worked our way onto the beach to greet their arrival, entry into the sea, and the fireworks that followed.

I stood happily ankle-to-hip–deep in water (that unpredictable surf) while I took pictures. San Geraldo stayed dry but within shouting distance. We were tired and blissful when we walked home hours later. The Virgin and her entourage continued through Fuengirola. for another hour (or more) and the partying on the street below continued into the wee hours of the morning.

From our terrace

Down on the Paseo

ON THEIR SHOULDERS.

HIGH OVERHEAD.

Onto the beach

Into the water

The fireworks

THIS FAMILY OF THREE STOLE OUR HEARTS.
THEY STOOD LIKE THAT THROUGH THE ENTIRE SHOW.

Ready For Another Virgin

Today is the Fiesta De Nuestra Señora Del Carmen, The Virgin of Carmen, patron of mariners and fishermen everywhere. As in years past, the virgin will be paraded through the streets of of our neighborhood of Los Boliches before she's floated into the water (and back out again). I plan to get plenty of pictures tonight of the procession and the fireworks that follow. Meanwhile, here's what it looked like around town earlier today.

(Do I have to tell you to click the images to enlarge?)

RED FLAGS MEAN ROUGH SEAS.
I SURE HOPE THEY CALM BEFORE TONIGHT. 

ALTHOUGH SWIMMING IS OFFICIALLY PROHIBITED, THE LIFEGUARDS
LET PEOPLE GO IN THE WATER IN AREAS THEY DEEM SAFE ENOUGH. NOT HERE.

THIS STRETCH, VIEWED FROM OUR TERRACE, IS CONSIDERED SAFE TODAY.
BUT TWO LIFEGUARDS FLANK THE OUTER EDGES AND WATCH CLOSELY.

TINY REPLICA OF WHAT WE'LL SEE TONIGHT.
ON DISPLAY AT THE FISHING PORT INSIDE THE COMMERCIAL FISH MARKET.
(SPONSORED BY THE FISHERMEN'S ASSOCIATION.)

AT THE JETTY NEAR THE PORT, FIREWORKS SET UP AND BEING GUARDED.

The Sea And Cake

Paula, the daughter of our friends Elena and Tynan, celebrated her 14th birthday Wednesday along with a bunch of her friends at an afternoon party on the beach. San Geraldo told Paula he would bake the birthday cake. What did she want? Chocolate!

As is always the case when San Geraldo bakes something, it was beautiful and mouth-wateringly delicious. Adorned with fresh strawberries, the cake had two layers with strawberry preserves between. It was covered in two layers of chocolate frosting (a "dirty" layer and a finish coat) made with nearly four large Lindt Supreme Dark Chocolate bars (and, of course, butter and sugar).

But don't worry, it was better than it sounds.

(If you click the images, you can almost taste it.)

CHOCOLATE CAKE ON THE BEACH.

THE HAPPY AND DESERVING BIRTHDAY GIRL.
(14 WAS JUST ABOUT HOW MANY KILOS THE CAKE WEIGHED!)

San Geraldo made more than enough frosting to put between the cake layers, as well. But he then decided to use strawberry preserves instead. So, we have a bowl of left-over frosting.

What ever shall we do?