Málaga redeems itself

I am not a fan of Málaga (the city) because, as one lovely guidebook puts it, it sold its soul to the Devil, aka Britain, Germany, the Netherlands, the Great White North. It is almost impossible to speak Spanish in Málaga and along the Costa del Sol, and when people do speak Spanish with you, you´d generally rather they not. So when Spence told me we´d be climbing in Málaga, I was skeptical.
Then, after a long bus ride and Andalusian taxi adventure, we pulled into El Chorro. It was dark, and warm, and reminded me of being home. When we arrived at the climber´s lodge, we met lots of quirky climbers from pretty much everywhere but Spain, including Spencer´s wonderful friend Jack.
In the morning, this is what I saw. Along with lots of other really big rock walls. It was my first tim climbing, and I think it´s not a bad place to start. As long as I can skip the city, I´ll climb there again any day.