12:40 am
La, la, la. Not much of a day. By the time I got out to Fuengirola, it was 12:30. And I had to catch the 2:15 train back. They don't have the flea market there on Saturdays anymore. So I laid on the beach a while. The water is much cleaner there. But not worth the 550 pesetas round trip train fare. Summer weekend rates! Paco and I videotaped a wedding today. Didn't use lights. It'll probably look like shit. Herbert'll be pissed. Bernardo too. Fuck 'em. I'm not taking this job seriously. I want to go to the flea market in Málaga tomorrow and maybe ride into the mountains. Don't feel like going to Donde tonight and have no other offers!
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Coming home after a month-long journey through Europe in 1991, I decided to quit my job at an upscale Michigan school district and move to Spain. I arrived in Malaga in January 1992 - never having set eyes on it before. I had a lot of hopes, a great deal of fortitude, and a little bit of money. This is my journal of that year in Spain.
Mikeywaz
- Mikeywaz
- In 1992, in part due to the First Bush Iraq War, I decided to leave a comfortable job in Michigan and move to Malaga, Spain. Since we visited Belize in 2008, Frank and I have been itching to hit the road. This year, we're pulling the trigger! Portimao, Portugal, here we come!