After a couple days in Chefchaoaun, where I chanced into the Antipodeans yet again, I made a dash to the Spanish enclave Ceuta. On the journey I was hassled out of some of my money by one gentleman whose guile was limited to abusive language.


Vomit on the bus.



















Malaga

There was a lovely day or two spent in Malaga, catching up on my eating, reading more voraciously than I have done in years, and seeing more bare flesh than I had been accustomed to over the previous ten days.

My hostel.



















Room with a view V.














The coin operated votive candle array in the cathedral.

Roundup

Beauty