Travel Tales: Saturday Market in Fuengirola, Spain

Rastro de Sabado

On a Saturday morning in southern

Spain we decided to do what we love

best ~ wander through a market.

We heard tales of the Saturday market

in Fuengirola and zipped up the coast

along the A-7 coastal road.  Thankfully, Rob

is a great driver in Spain and I can put it

all in his hands.  The A-7 is known as one

of the most dangerous in Europe,  you drive

for maybe a quarter mile and then have

a roundabout, over and over.  Then you exit

into one of the villages and have streets that

I call mirror-scrapers, no street used for cars

should be that narrow.  We had no idea where

the feria (fairground) was but drove through

the streets and when we gave up we just

parked down by the beach and decided to

walk around.  We found out the market was

just a few blocks up from the beach so we

left the car in one hour parking and headed

to the feria.

Once we were in the market we realized

this is bigger than we expected.  The

market stretched as far as the eye could

see and this was only one lane of maybe

five or six.  After a while, Rob decided

he had better go back and move the car

since we were going to be here awhile.

I rarely get to be completely alone

when I'm traveling.  It was fun to

interact with the vendors ~ Spanish

men are very flirtatious with a woman

who is alone, whether they are 18 or 85.

The plan with Rob was he would move

the car and come back to the market and we

would meet at the end of the first lane.

When I got to end I got a drink and

waited, and waited in the hot sun.  Finally

Rob spotted me, he had returned and went

to our meeting spot and I wasn't there

(it took time to negotiate with the flirting

Spanish men) he was worried and started

looking for me.  Now all was well and we

went exploring...

This is a huge market that sells

a bit of everything.  There are

ex-pats selling antiques from their

home countries, fruit and veg, knock-off

purses, furniture, part car boot sale, decor

items, piles of dirty old clothes, ancient

household appliances, not vintage, just old.

As you walk along you pass people with

wheelbarrows filled with clementines and

the scent is delicious ~ it is the smell

of Spain.

We picked up some old

candleholders from Portugal

since our rental didn't have any

and we must dine by candlelight.

A lantern for late nights

on our terrace.

A salt container that is in my

kitchen at home and I look at everyday.

My favorite purchases were

these additions to my

alarm clock collection.

This one even says Malaga,

a city on the Costa del Sol.

I purchased this clock from a little

 old Spanish man who kept assuring

me that it worked and he kept

winding the clock.  I couldn't come

up with the correct words in Spanish

to tell him I couldn't take something

that "ticks" on the plane...