By Abdullah Usman Morai

Our journey continued towards Granada. Just near Ronda, the water tank of our camper was about to run out, so we needed to refill it as well as empty the wastewater tank. We arrived at a gas station where there was a machine for filling water, but the card payment system seemed to be malfunctioning. So, we went inside the shop and used Google’s voice recorder to explain that we needed water but didn’t have coins.

The shop attendant said that since the card machine wasn’t working, only coins would be accepted. We told him that we didn’t have cash and asked if he could help us by letting us pay by card at the shop instead. He explained that the accounts for the shop and the water system were separate. Then Zeeshan recorded a voice message saying, “Look, it’s extremely hot, and water is essential for our survival.” Hearing the translation, the shopkeeper laughed and said, “I won’t take any money; I’ll just give you direct access to the pipe so you can fill your tank.” We thanked him for his kindness, filled our water tank, and moved on.

As we traveled, we saw vast golden fields of ripe wheat. Men dressed in pants and shirts, possibly shepherds or farmworkers, were herding their livestock across the road, occasionally causing minor traffic delays, but watching them was a pleasant sight. The region we were passing through was full of crops but had fewer regular trees. It was slightly hilly, and further ahead, we saw large, neatly planted groves of olive trees. The sky was clear and bright blue, with no clouds in sight. Occasionally, we saw large farmhouses among the wheat fields.

Along the way, we came across a man who had parked his van near a windmill and set up a stall selling fresh fruit. We turned our vehicle toward him and exchanged greetings. We wanted to buy some fruit but were still facing the issue of not having cash. However, the man kindly told us to take whatever we needed for free. We picked some fruit and, in return, gave him sunscreen, which made him happy.

We took the wrong exit at a roundabout and had to circle back. On our way, we noticed a signboard for a small town and decided to head there to buy supplies and withdraw some cash from an ATM. We reached the small Spanish town of Ardales at around 8 PM. Due to summer, it still felt like late afternoon. Young people were playing football in the streets.

We entered a small shop where an elderly shopkeeper, wearing a t-shirt and short, greeted us warmly and asked something in Spanish. We responded in English, requesting the items we needed, which he provided. In small towns like this, people know each other well. While we were in the shop, a couple of women and a few men entered, all of whom seemed familiar with the shopkeeper and each other, engaging in casual conversations. After buying our essentials, we said “Gracias” and left to withdraw money from an ATM.

As we were leaving town, I noticed that the young men were still playing football. I wondered if any of them might become a famous football player in the future. We returned to the fruit vendor and paid him for the fruit we had taken earlier, purchasing some more as well.

Getting lost had led us to this small Spanish town, where our destined sustenance was waiting for us in a tiny shop. Indeed, what is written in our fate will always find its way to us. Along the road, we also saw a pivot sprinkler irrigation system in use for watering the fields.

Around 11 PM, we entered Granada and hoped to find parking near the Alhambra Palace. Luckily, we found a spot. Since we planned to visit the Alhambra in the morning, we took a moment to relax, cooked dinner, drank a couple of rounds of tea, and enjoyed the view of Granada from our parking spot. The city below sparkled with lights, creating a mesmerizing sight.

Young couples sat together on the hillside, chatting, drinking beer, and admiring the city view. Occasionally, their laughter echoed in the night. This continued until late at night. Meanwhile, we turned our parking spot into a makeshift laundry station, washing our shirts and shorts and hanging them on a clothesline to dry.

After dinner, we took a short walk around. The air was pleasantly cool. Late into the night, we finally fell asleep. By morning, we woke up early, freshened up, and got ready to head toward the famous Alhambra Palace, which was very close by.

Upon arrival, we found it crowded with tourists from all over the world. At the ticket counter, two beautiful young women informed us that all tickets for the day were sold out. We then asked which parts of the Alhambra were open to the public without tickets, and they marked them on a map for us.

The area around the Alhambra was lush with trees and greenery. In some spots, small streams of water were visible. We took a detour and ended up in the city, where we walked through narrow alleys paved with stone slabs. From certain points in the city, the towers of the Alhambra were visible.

In the city center, the streets were paved with marble and were exceptionally clean. We wanted to explore the other side of the Alhambra but also take a stroll through the city. Most tourists were concentrated around the Alhambra. The sun shone brightly.

During summer in Spain, many cafés and restaurants have compact machines to extract fresh sugarcane juice. We entered one such café and enjoyed a refreshing glass of sugarcane juice. The café was beautifully decorated.

We returned to the Alhambra and explored the publicly accessible areas. The irrigation system for watering the plants, trees, and flowers was impressive. As the temperature rose, we sat under a tree to rest, where a cat approached us. We petted it, and then it refused to leave our side.

After browsing through some souvenir shops and purchasing a small keepsake, we decided to move on. We returned to the camper van parking area, retrieved our now-dry clothes from the clothesline, took in the daylight view of Granada from the hill, snapped a few memorable photos, and prepared to leave.

Granada was a fascinating city. One unique aspect was the large overhead shades suspended above the pedestrian streets, providing relief from the sun’s heat. We bid farewell to Granada around noon and set off toward our next destination—Cordoba.

The journey was a mix of plains and hills, dominated by olive groves. For lunch, we decided to eat at a restaurant in a small town called Alcalá la Real. We placed our order through Google Translate with a young waiter. When she asked what we wanted to drink, we said “Fanta.” she then asked, “Limón or Naranja?” That’s when I realized that in Spain, oranges are called “Naranja,” a word similar to its Sindhi counterpart. I immediately replied, “Naranja.”

We sat outside on the terrace. The restaurant owner, who had large, curled mustaches, sat drinking white wine with a friend. The waiter frequently brought them small snacks. The owner’s mustaches reminded me of a character from my childhood in the town of Moro—a man named mr. Jumo Navall, who ran a tea shop and had similarly curled mustaches. He, too, would sit idly while his workers managed the shop. It was surprising how a person from thousands of kilometers away could resemble someone from my childhood.

After finishing our meal and tea, the restaurant owner’s friend got up, went to his jeep, and returned with a bag of fresh cherries, placing it on their table and offering us some as well. We were surprised by his generosity. The young waiter shouted from a distance that these cherries were “ecological.” We thanked her as well.

This man was a local landowner who spent his leisure time at his friend’s restaurant. Before leaving for Cordoba, we stopped at a nearby petrol station for a quick freshen-up.

After some time on the road, the heat increased, and we felt drowsy from our meal. We parked our camper under the shade near a railway station in a small town named Luque, surrounded by vast olive groves, and rested for an hour.

Around 6 PM, we reached Cordoba. Our main goal was to visit the Mosque-Cathedral. We parked nearby and started exploring on foot. To help tourists avoid the heat, horse-drawn carriages were available for hire. We passed by a monument of the Muslim philosopher Ibn Rushd, who was from Cordoba.

As we entered the mosque-cathedral complex, we saw its massive walls, wooden ceilings, and numerous archways.

The system for watering the trees was well-organized. The water from the fountains was drinkable. A pond also enhanced the beauty of the entire complex, with people sitting around its edges. There were also palm trees inside.

There was an entry ticket for the mosque, but they had stopped selling tickets by the time we arrived because it was close to closing time. So, I moved ahead a little while Zeeshan spoke to the security guard, explaining that we had come from Sweden just to see this mosque. Since tickets were no longer available, he requested if we could visit it as long as it remained open. The guard granted permission, and Zeeshan quickly called me to come over. Thanks to this, we managed to enter the mosque, and a few other tourists also took advantage of the opportunity. The mosque was grand, and its intricate arches gave it a magical feel. It was a wonderful experience, and I truly enjoyed it.

Even Allama Iqbal had visited this mosque, and he wrote poetry about it, which is considered one of his masterpieces.

After visiting the mosque, we wandered through the city streets and eventually arrived at the Roman Bridge over the Guadalquivir River, which provided a spectacular view of the river and the mosque-cathedral. There was quite a crowd of tourists there as well. The bridge’s pillars housed birds’ nests, and the birds seemed to be protecting them. Seeing the doors of the bridge reminded me of the Sukkur Barrage in Sindh. At the end of the bridge stood the Torre de la Calahorra, also known as the Córdoba Tower, which contained a museum. This Islamic-era tower resembled a fortress, giving it an imposing look.

Palm trees were also visible in Córdoba. We stopped to take a break at a café, where having tea was essential. The café was run by young women. From my experience traveling in different countries, I have noticed that if you ask to use the restroom at a restaurant, some places allow it while others insist that the facility is only for customers, meaning you have to purchase something. However, in Spain, people happily grant permission wherever you go.

During the nighttime drive, we repeatedly listened to the sufi song by singer Saif Samejo, Naal Mahi O Tedi Lagan Diliyan, which felt even more mesmerizing in the darkness of the night.

We kept exploring until around 9:30 PM and had dinner at a Moroccan restaurant in Córdoba, where I noticed geckos on the walls. Seeing geckos and sugarcane juice reminded me of Sindh—perhaps geckos and sugarcane juice are common in warm climates. Since childhood, I have had a fear and dislike of geckos. When Zeeshan found out, he teased me, saying, “Abdullah Bhai, the gecko has jumped off the wall and climbed the tree above you!” That gave me a fright, and we all had a good laugh.

After sunset and the Isha prayer, we left Córdoba at around 10:45 PM, crossing the Abbas Ibn Firnas Bridge and heading straight toward Málaga. During the nighttime drive, we repeatedly listened to the sufi song by singer Saif Samejo, Naal Mahi O Tedi Lagan Diliyan, which felt even more mesmerizing in the darkness of the night.

Late at night, we parked our campervan in a designated parking area where we had to return it in the morning. The next day, we woke up, had breakfast, cleaned the campervan, and returned it. We also left behind some of the items we had purchased so that other travelers could use them. Nearby, an Austrian couple was also cleaning their campervan before returning it. We exchanged experiences with them—they had mostly stayed in coastal areas, while we had explored the mountainous regions. Their sun-tanned skin suggested that they had spent a lot of time swimming in the sea and sunbathing.

The campervan company’s representative inspected our vehicle and confirmed that everything was in order. He thanked us for booking with their company. Before we left, he asked if we needed a taxi to the airport, and we accepted his offer.

Within an hour, we arrived at Málaga Airport for our flight back to Stockholm.

Grateful to the Almighty for showing us new places, introducing us to new people, and allowing us to experience new adventures. (Ends) 

Click here for Part-1, Part-2

________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

All photos provided by the author 

The post Strangers in Gibraltar and Andalusia – 3 first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai

The journey along the Alboran Sea, following the Costa del Sol coastline, took about two hours. It felt as if we had our home with us now, allowing us to stop and rest anywhere or spend the night wherever we pleased, eliminating the need for timely hotel check-ins. The route from Málaga to Gibraltar offered breathtaking views of mountains and the sea. Along the way, we had to pay tolls at four or five points. Many road signs were written in both Spanish and Arabic.

During our journey, we stopped at a petrol station to freshen up, washing our faces and taking a short break. The petrol station had a designated parking area with separate rows for small and large vehicles. It also provided restroom and shower facilities, along with a store where travelers could buy essential supplies. After a brief rest, we resumed our journey.

As we neared the small Spanish town of La Línea de la Concepción, we caught our first glimpse of the famous Rock of Gibraltar. Upon reaching La Línea, we were greeted with a stunning combination of the mountain, city, and sea. A wide pedestrian path had been built along the coast for people to walk, lined with numerous palm trees. We decided that we would take a walk there on our way back.

Approaching the border, we only had to show our passports briefly before being allowed to enter Gibraltar from Spain. The passport control process was not complicated. Now, we had officially crossed from Spain into the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar. Interestingly, cars here drove on the right side of the road, just like in Spain. However, pedestrian crossings followed British rules, with signs on the pavement instructing people to look left or right before crossing.

As we continued, we occasionally saw the Union Jack flag fluttering, while colorful cottages for tourists were nestled on the hillside overlooking the sea.

A short while later, we entered the Dudley Ward Way Tunnel in Gibraltar, an approximately 500-meter-long passage. Exiting the tunnel, we arrived in Gibraltar’s southern district, known as Europa Point. The first thing that caught our eye was the grand Ibrahim-al-Ibrahim Mosque, also called the King Fahd bin Abdulaziz Al Saud Mosque. This mosque was a gift from King Fahd of Saudi Arabia to the Muslims living in Gibraltar. It is one of the largest mosques in a non-Muslim country and stands as the southernmost mosque in continental Europe. Just a few kilometers beyond the mosque, the Strait of Gibraltar separates Europe from North Africa, with Morocco visible in the distance.

Not far from the mosque, we also spotted the Europa Point Lighthouse, its beacon flashing intermittently.

We parked our camper and, since we were dressed in shorts due to the heat, we put on track pants over them before heading toward the mosque. However, we found the doors locked. Nearby, a group of Moroccans was sitting and chatting. One of them, noticing us looking at the mosque entrance, walked over and greeted us with “Salam.” He reached into his pocket, and before we could ask anything, we inquired whether the mosque was closed. He nodded but then pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door for us.

Since there was still daylight, we performed ablution and prayed the Asr (afternoon) prayer inside the mosque. The mosque was quite large, with a main prayer hall on what seemed to be the second floor. From the balcony, we could take in breathtaking views of the sea and surrounding landscape. The mosque was built in a truly remarkable location. It had classrooms, halls, accommodations, and separate prayer areas for men and women, along with kitchen facilities.

After leaving the mosque, we walked to the Europa Point Lighthouse, taking in the atmosphere of the surroundings.

It is said that in the year 711 AD, the Berber commander Tariq ibn Ziyad arrived at this very spot with his army of Berber and Arab soldiers. The famous story of him burning his ships after landing originates here. History tells us that following this event, the Muslims ruled over Spain for several centuries, and their influence can still be seen there today. The name “Gibraltar” itself is derived from “Jabal Tariq,” meaning “Mountain of Tariq.”

As the sun began to set, we returned to the mosque once more. Gradually, more and more people arrived. Each new arrival placed their hand over their chest and greeted everyone present with “Salam.” The call to prayer (Adhan) was made, and people began performing their individual prayers.

We were momentarily puzzled, as we were used to starting the congregational (Fard) prayer immediately after the sunset call to prayer. Here, however, people seemed to be performing additional voluntary (Nafl) or Sunnah prayers before the main prayer. Soon, the same young man who had opened the mosque for us and called the Adhan led the congregational prayer.

After the prayer, a few people approached us and directly asked, “Are you from Pakistan?” We replied, “Yes,” which made them happy. Most of them were from Morocco. One elderly man placed his hand on his chest and warmly said, “It is a pleasure to meet you. This is the house of God, where we all stand under the same roof, regardless of which country we are from or what language we speak.”

As we stepped out of the mosque, I asked Zeeshan, “This is the first time I’ve seen people offering voluntary or Sunnah prayers before the obligatory ones after the Maghrib prayer.” Zeeshan explained, “These people are from Morocco, and since most Moroccans follow the Shafi’i school of thought, this is their practice.” This was new information for me. I reflected that travel teaches people many new things.

After leaving the mosque, we headed towards the seaside, where the city lights had started to glow. Near the Europa Point Lighthouse, a few other objects were displayed as war memorials. We debated whether to stay in the parking lot for the night or continue our journey back to Spain. The wind was blowing fiercely, so we decided to leave and retraced our route back to Spain. We drove further until we reached the Manilva region and parked our camper van in the lot of a gas station to have dinner and rest for the night. The camper van had now become our home for this journey.

At the gas station’s shop, we picked up a few supplies. The station offered 24-hour restroom facilities for travelers, which seemed to be a common convenience in Spain. Many people preferred staying overnight in their vehicles at gas stations rather than booking hotels or dealing with the hassle of city accommodations, especially when traveling on long routes. Besides us, a couple of other vehicles and a few large trailers were also parked there. We were tired but needed to eat, so we started cooking dinner. While waiting for the food to be ready, we enjoyed rounds of tea. The night had settled in with a dim glow.

By the time we finished eating and chatting about various topics, it was past midnight. We decided to sleep, though the sound of vehicles passing on the road kept waking us up at times. Regardless, we managed to get some rest.

Early in the morning, we woke up refreshed, had breakfast, and prepared to leave. It was going to be a long day, as we planned to explore a small town called Ronda before reaching the famous city of Granada. It was going to be quite a challenge.

As we traveled, we passed through hilly areas with numerous windmills spinning in the wind. The landscape on both sides of the road was lush green with trees. The sky was clear with a few scattered clouds. It was warm outside, but inside the vehicle, we were comfortable. Occasionally, cyclists passed by in a designated lane, and we spotted grazing cattle, mostly cows, along the roadside.

As we entered a mountainous region, our vehicle climbed uphill slowly. Dense forests surrounded us. We eventually reached a designated parking area where travelers could stop and admire the valley below. We decided to take a break there to cool down our vehicle and enjoy the scenery. From the hilltop, we could see a settlement on the other side of the valley. The vast landscape stretched out with mountains, greenery, scattered clouds, and a blue sky.

While we were soaking in the view, a couple in a large camper van parked nearby. They had noticed us admiring the scenery and decided to stop as well. They were from Basel, Switzerland, and spoke both German and English. We asked if they were coming from Ronda and whether the journey there was long. They told us that it would take another 40 to 50 minutes and assured us that we would enjoy it.

After chatting for a while, we resumed our journey. Along the route, there were several scenic stops for travelers. Passing through small villages, we eventually took another break at Mirador de Atajate, a viewpoint offering a similar view to the previous one. While walking around, I noticed a stone with various inscriptions, one of which was “Moro” in English.

For a moment, I felt as though I was not in Spain but in my hometown, Moro. In Spain, “Moro” could refer to a place, a town, or a mountain peak. Historically, Muslims in Spain were also called “Moros” or “Moors.” Seeing the word “Moro” carved into the stone evoked a deep sense of nostalgia in me. I stood there for a few minutes, staring at it, feeling a strange connection. Before leaving, I looked at it one last time. As our vehicle moved forward, I felt as if I was reliving the moment when I had left my hometown, Moro, in 2008 to move to Sweden. As our journey continued, the word “Moro” remained behind.

By the time we reached Ronda, it was around 2:30 PM. Due to the heat, there were few people on the streets—perhaps they were taking their midday siesta. We parked near the ancient fortress and began walking around. Next to the parking lot, large stone-paved courtyards were lined with restaurants and cafés, where lively gatherings likely took place in the evening.

The fortress in Ronda was built by the Moors (Muslims) to protect the city. Its entrance reminded me of the Umerkot Fort in Pakistan. Within the fortress, several restaurants were present, but few people were around. The outdoor seating areas had shaded canopies for comfort. We climbed the fortress walls to enjoy panoramic views of the surroundings before descending and heading towards the city.

As we walked through the streets, I noticed olive trees for the first time. Spain is the world’s leading producer of olives and olive oil, with the Andalusia region being the top contributor. These were not the wild olives found in Larkana but the cultivated variety mentioned in Surah At-Tin of the Quran. Our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) regarded the olive tree as a blessed tree and encouraged its use.

Ronda gradually revealed its charm. On one side of the road was a regular sidewalk, while on the other side, there were arched corridors for pedestrians, possibly to provide shade during hot weather. As we moved forward, we noticed a crowd gathered at the Puente Nuevo (New Bridge). Looking down from the bridge, we were overwhelmed—it was a deep canyon with a river flowing nearly 200-300 meters below. The sight was both breathtaking and terrifying.

It is said that during the Spanish Civil War, prisoners were thrown from this bridge into the canyon below. The canyon divides Ronda into two parts, connected by this historic bridge. Today, Ronda has become a popular tourist destination, and we saw many visitors exploring the city, some riding horse-drawn carriages. We took many memorable photos of the bridge from both sides.

After exploring the markets, we bought some souvenirs and snacks before heading back to our camper van. We planned to eat lunch before continuing our journey to Granada. While preparing our meal, Zeeshan and I engaged in deep conversation—sharing thoughts and stories, something that adds to the beauty of travel. A journey becomes even more enjoyable when you have a like-minded companion.

After lunch, as we were about to leave Ronda, curiosity struck us—what if we went down to see the bridge from below? We noticed vehicles and people below, so we decided to take a different route to reach the base of the canyon. As we descended, we found a parking area with a stunning view of the towering rock formations supporting Ronda.

The landscape was dramatic, with the canyon walls appearing even more imposing from below. Due to the heat, many people were dressed lightly. After spending some time there and capturing more photos, we debated whether to return the same way or find another route.

Using common sense, we figured that locals wouldn’t always drive up the steep road—there had to be an alternative. We continued driving forward, and eventually, a local man walking his dog confirmed that the road would connect to a highway. Further along, we met a cycling couple who reassured us that although the road was rough, our camper’s sturdy tires could handle it. Trusting their advice, we carefully navigated the bumpy two-kilometer stretch until we finally reached the main road, feeling relieved and grateful. (Continues) 

Click here for Part-1,

________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

All photos provided by the author 

The post Strangers in Gibraltar and Andalusia – 2 first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai

The much-awaited day finally arrived on May 21, 2024, when my friend Zeeshan Khan and I boarded a Ryanair flight from Stockholm to Málaga, Spain. Our plan was to explore Andalusia, the southern region of Spain, also known as Andalucía. Inspired by Mustansar Hussain Tarar’s book A Stranger in Andalusia, we saw ourselves as two strangers in this fascinating land, eager to explore, learn, and enrich ourselves—not necessarily in wealth, but through experiences and discoveries. As our friends Sikandar Baloch and Sajjad Suhag remarked after their European tour, “We have returned richer,” referring to the friendships, conversations, and places they had encountered.

The flight from Stockholm to Málaga lasted four and a half hours, and we landed at Málaga Airport around midnight. Despite the late hour, the city was lively. We hailed a taxi, engaging in conversation with the driver, who assured us that Málaga was a peaceful city with minimal crime. Curious about Gibraltar, I asked whether cars there drove on the left or right side of the road. He confirmed that, like Spain, Gibraltar follows right-hand traffic. However, since Gibraltar is a British territory, I had expected the opposite.

Upon reaching the city center, we checked into Pensión Santa Paula Guesthouse on Calle Especería at nearly 1:00 AM. After dropping off our luggage, we stepped out in search of dinner. Most restaurants were closed, but a small kebab shop run by an Egyptian man was open. As we ordered, a group of Moroccan tourists arrived, greeting the Egyptian owner warmly and placing their orders. We took our food to St. John’s Church, where we sat on the church steps and enjoyed our meal. Meanwhile, street-cleaning trucks with large rotating brushes were busy keeping the city spotless. After a short stroll, we returned to our hotel. The room was modest, with shared bathrooms and showers located outside in the corridor. This was our only night in a hotel; for the rest of our Andalusian journey, we had planned to stay in a Roadsurfer camper van. After a long conversation, we finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, we freshened up and headed downstairs for breakfast, where other hotel guests were already enjoying their meals. After breakfast, we returned to our room, packed up, checked out, and stored our luggage at the hotel. With several hours to spare before picking up our camper van in the afternoon, we set off on foot to explore Málaga. The moment we stepped outside, we could smell the sea breeze. Málaga is located along the Alboran Sea, the westernmost part of the Mediterranean, which separates southern Europe from North Africa. The Strait of Gibraltar, which links the Mediterranean to the Atlantic Ocean, lies nearby. The coastline from Nerja, Málaga, and Marbella to Gibraltar is famously known as the Costa del Sol, or Coast of the Sun.

As we wandered through the city, we quickly realized that Málaga was a major tourist hub. The streets were lined with visitors from around the world, many dressed in light summer clothing due to the warm weather. The roads were impeccably clean, some paved with marble tiles, while balconies were adorned with flower pots overflowing with pink blossoms. Palm trees lined the streets, adding to the city’s charm. When we reached Plaza de la Constitución, we encountered a lively crowd, possibly part of a demonstration or protest. Women carried shopping bags in one hand while holding their partners’ hands in the other.

Continuing our exploration, we arrived at Málaga’s Roman Theatre on Calle Alcazabilla. Overlooking the theater, the grand Alcazaba Fortress stood atop the hill, while the ancient Roman ruins lay at its feet. The theatre, built in the 1st century AD, remained in use until the 3rd century, after which it was buried for centuries. It was rediscovered in 1951 during excavations. Standing there, I tried to imagine what performances and gatherings had taken place there two millennia ago and what this site might look like in another 2,000 years. This reflection reinforced my belief that time diminishes all human achievements, and we should live our limited days with dignity, humility, and purpose.

From a distance, we noticed a long queue of tourists waiting to enter the Alcazaba. However, we decided to continue our city tour before visiting the fortress. Málaga was bustling with visitors, its palm-lined streets shaded by well-placed trees and wide marble-paved sidewalks. From nearly every angle, the Alcazaba loomed in the background, a constant reminder of the city’s historical grandeur. We came across an old tree with a strikingly reddish trunk and marveled at its age.

Eventually, we returned to the Alcazaba and joined the queue to purchase tickets. The process was automated, with tourists retrieving their own tickets from machines. Once inside, we found ourselves gradually ascending through the fortress, stopping occasionally to catch our breath and admire the panoramic views of the city. The pathways were paved with ancient bricks and stones, and the fortress walls were unplastered, revealing their original structure. Viewing platforms allowed visitors to gaze upon Málaga from above. Many tourists wore wide-brimmed hats to shield themselves from the sun, particularly young women whose elegant hats complemented their beauty.

Despite the heat, a cool breeze made our visit comfortable. Near a fountain surrounded by lush greenery, we took a break under the shade of ancient olive trees. The Alcazaba also featured water channels running through the pathways, likely designed for drainage. From higher vantage points, we could see Málaga’s skyline stretching towards the Alboran Sea, with distant ships anchored along the shore.

One particularly striking spot within the fortress featured interconnected terraces with beautifully designed archways. Zeeshan mentioned that his father’s residence resembled this architecture, bringing back nostalgic memories. As time pressed on, we made our way out of the Alcazaba and headed toward Málaga’s famous Hashtag Sign, where we captured some memorable photos. Positioned perfectly, this spot allowed for a single frame that included the Málaga sign, the Roman Theatre, and the Alcazaba Fortress atop the hill, encapsulating the essence of this magnificent city.

Málaga felt incredibly vibrant and lively, with possibly more tourists than locals. Nevertheless, we decided it would be best to have lunch before picking up our Roadsurfer camper. We considered different options, including Moroccan or Pakistani food. Initially, we went to a Moroccan restaurant, but things didn’t quite work out there, so we eventually ended up at a nearby Indian restaurant.

By this time, it was siesta hour in the city—a period for rest when businesses shut down for an afternoon break, a practice still common in Spain and Italy. I remember that my father used to close his shop in the afternoon as well, but due to increasing competition, this tradition has largely disappeared now. However, since Málaga is a popular tourist destination, restaurants and eateries remained open. We finally sat down at the Indian restaurant, Namaste Grill, and enjoyed our meal.

The young woman serving the food seemed South Asian to me, but it turned out she was from Latin America and spoke only Spanish and English. Meanwhile, the man at the counter was on the phone, speaking in Urdu or Hindi, possibly with someone from home. There were only a few other customers in the restaurant. As time pressed on, we decided to leave and made our way back to the hotel. Instead of dealing with the hassle of booking a Bolt taxi ourselves, we asked the hotel receptionist to call one while we freshened up and gathered our luggage. The receptionist happily did so, and within a short while, the taxi arrived. We checked out of the hotel, loaded our belongings, and set off for the Roadsurfer Camper office.

Both Zeeshan Khan and I were quite excited, as this was going to be our first experience traveling in a camper. Although we had previously traveled together in a car and gone camping, this was an entirely new adventure. As we rode in the taxi, we continued to take in the sights of the city. The fountains scattered throughout Málaga helped ease the heat, making the atmosphere more pleasant. After about half an hour, we arrived at the Roadsurfer Camper office, located slightly outside the main city, on Calle José Calderón.

A young staff member at the reception desk checked our booking details. We had reserved a Mercedes-Benz Roadsurfer Camper. Once all the paperwork was completed, he took us to the vehicle and explained its features. Although they had already sent us a detailed guide, which we had printed out, it was still helpful to see everything in person. He demonstrated how to fill the water tank and empty the wastewater, use the fridge, stove, and shower, adjust the seats for sleeping arrangements, and operate the various compartments for storage and seating.

Additionally, he informed us about AdBlue, a solution made from water and urea, which we needed to add to the camper’s tank before returning it. AdBlue is used in diesel vehicles to reduce nitrogen oxide emissions, which are harmful to both human health and the environment.

Before bidding us farewell, he wished us good luck and a safe journey. He also pointed towards a showcase filled with leftover supplies from previous travelers—items such as cooking oil, salt, black pepper, toilet paper, tissues, disposable plates, and more. Tourists often leave behind these supplies for future travelers to use, and we took some useful items as well.

Finally, we took our camper, exited the garage, and stopped at a nearby fuel station to fill the water tank. The vehicle already had a full tank of diesel. Once the water tank was full, we were ready to hit the road.

We searched for a supermarket on Google Maps to pick up additional supplies. Eventually, we parked near a large shopping center in the La Roca district and went into a Carrefour supermarket. While shopping, it almost felt like we were locals rather than tourists. Typically, tourists don’t find themselves shopping for groceries in large supermarkets, but those traveling in campers often get a closer look at local goods and daily life.

One thing that caught my eye in the supermarket was the large selection of dried meat, often packed in weights of 10 kilograms or more. While dried meat is available in Sweden, it is not as commonly found as it seemed to be here.

After finishing our shopping, we were finally ready to embark on our adventure. Without further delay, we set off from Málaga, heading directly toward Gibraltar. (Continues)

Read: Travelogue: A Winter Adventure in Porto, Portugal

________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

All photos provided by the author 

The post Strangers in Gibraltar and Andalusia – 1 first appeared on Sindh Courier.