It could not have been the beer and wine and sherry we drank last night.
We tried to shower the cobwebs from our eyes, and brains, and make it to breakfast before they closed, which we thought was 10:00am
When we got to the dining room it seemed like half the guests had partied a wee bit too much as well and we were in good company.
For all its faults, and let's face it, the Parador de Málaga Golf has way too many for a place that purports to be a 4 star hotel, it does put on a varied breakfast and the breakfast waiter are, as we say in Oz, "bang on the money" (which means very good)!
After my breakfast of bread and cake type stuff with delicious chocolate in it and a bucket load of coffee we packed our dusty belongings and caught a taxi to the new and more centrally located boutique (I love that word, but what the hell does it mean when used to describe a hotel?!).
I should mention at this point that Tiziana "I can't eat breakfast" has been eating breakfast every day, and very healthy ones at that. Muesli, yoghurt, fruit, juices ..... and coffee. I'm surprised and proud of her.
The Hotel Atarazanas is in a great spot and it's very boutiquey.
Sorry, my twisted sense of humor made me write that last adjective.
It's good, with fair size rooms, great bathroom, excellent weefy and a very short walk to 100+ bars and tapas eateries.
We unpacked the bags and thought we would catch with Roger and Stela one last time.
Roger had been "banging on" about a place called El Pimpi and how good it was.
After using various means of communication we found out that they were there so of we set.
It wasn't far from our new digs but we nearly walked past its very unassuming front door.
In we went and the place is like the Tardis.
There's the original part that looks like an old chapel which opens up to a huge courtyard out the back and they have what I called a 1st floor that look like a McEl Pimpi.
This McEl Pimpi is all shiney and new with plastic seating and it looks like a complete sellout to try and attract the new Malagan generation that might think it's cool.
In fact it looked like ..... Americanised shit. Sorry, but that's the truth.
The "old" El Pimpi is great.
Chaotic.
Full of everyone and anyone who is anyone in Malaga.
The outdoor area is situated in the shadows of a huge Roman amphitheater and it is just to sit there and eat excellent Spanish tucker and drink way to much.
We ate, we drank, we hugged and kissed and wished our Swiss/Brazilian friends farewell until th next time we meet, which hopefully won't be too far away.
On the walk back to our oh-so-chic-boutique-hotel we heard an Irish lady trying to catch a cab to El Pimpi.
Before I go any further I need to explain that I for one have enormous difficulty understanding the Irish accent and I imagine that a Spanish cab driver would have far more trouble than me.
Being the friendly travellers that we are we told this nice lady that if she went 5 meter ahead, turned left and walked another 30 meters she'd be there.
What we didn't tell here was that it was now Spanish lunchtime, ~16:00, and the locals were queuing up and looking at the damn tourists that were taking "their" tables at "their" El Pimpi.
We hope she got a table there 'cos I'm sure she will have enjoyed it.
That night we headed back into the old quarter and finally had a paella.
We know that it was not as good as Julios wife's paella nor as good as his mums but it was pretty good for us.
What made me laugh that night was yet another case of me trying to be helpful by using my best Spanglish and the waiter, after listening patiently and looking at me like I was slightly retarded, answering in very good English.
I love the Spaniards and I love their dry sense of humor even more.
***
I am writing this entry on Monday night and it's getting close to dinner time - 21:40 - so we're heading out for a feed and I'll resume writing after dinner.
***
It's 23:10 and we've just got back from dinner. I'm in no state to be writing anything that might be read by intelligible humans, so I won't.I will finish off by saying that "La Taberna de Pintxos" is entirely responsible for yet another late entry.
More tomorrow.
Sleep well dear reader, as I know I will.
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