Midwinter in Málaga - The Rain in Spain (Before The Plane)

Still with me? It's time for the last instalment of our impromptu trip to the gorgeous Spanish city of Málaga.

The weather forecast for Thursday, our final day, had been dismal with incessant rain predicted from 7am. Although it was still dry when we left our apartment, the sky was looking ominous so we popped into Ale-Hop, the funky Spanish equivalent of Flying Tiger, Copenhagen to buy an umbrella, just to be on the safe side. 

It was Spain's second public holiday that week, The Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and unfortunately our first destination of the day, Museo del Vidrio y Cristal de Málaga (the museum of glass and crystal), was closed. Moving on to Picasso's childhood home, also a museum, we discovered that it too was closed. Never mind,we snuggled up to Pablo on the bench outside his house before buying some locally grown almonds from the farmer who'd set up a stall in the square opposite.

We walked down to the harbour, pleased to discover that the Centre Pompidou Málaga was open.

Opening in 2015, it was the first Pompidou Centre to be established outside France.

Despite the leaden skies, it was touching 20°C so we deposited our coats in the lockers after we'd paid the admission fee. The Pompidou was hosting a fascinating exhibition, A Time of One's Own, a journey through the human experience of leisure.

I can't say that we understood every exhibit but it was memorable and isn't that what successful art is, something that leaves a lasting impression?

The rain had started in earnest when we left the Pompidou so we hurried back into the old town and on discovering that Museo de Málaga was open, dived in for a respite.

The museum is held within the walls of the imposing Palacio de la Aduana, the former customs house. Building work was started under the orders of Charles III in 1791 but not completed until 1829 as midway through the palace was sacked by French forces during the Peninsular War.

After wandering around the Greco/Roman exhibits on display in the archaeological department we realised that we were starving and went off in search of lunch, settling on Cañadú, the vegetarian restaurant we'd visited on my birthday.

Despite the rain the umbrellas were strategically arranged enabling us to eat outside without getting wet. Whilst Jon tucked into a Greek salad with patatas bravas I had the most divine warm goats' cheese and walnut salad with a honey & mustard dressing accompanied, of course, by two large glasses of Rioja...followed by two more (well, it was raining).

We'd intended to return to the Museo de Malaga to see the fine art exhibition on the second floor but when we got there discovered it had closed for the day. We considered visiting Málaga Cathedral but neither of us are keen on churches or on religious pomp and last time we'd been to a cathedral (in Alicante) we nearly got decapitated by a wayward roof tile. The decision was made for us when we discovered that the admission fee was a hefty 10 Euros each.

Instead we went to the Museo Carmen Thyssen, built around the 16th century Palacio de Villalón, and housing a collection of 19th century Spanish paintings, on twelve-year loan to the city by Carmen Thyssen, a private collector.

Although at first I thought the paintings a little too chocolate-box for my tastes, capturing a romanticised vision of Spanish peasant life, on a wet afternoon the colours were joyful and the artists' attention to detail astonishing. If I came across any of these in a charity shop I'd happily give them wall space.

There was also a temporary exhibition of magnificently bold Belgian Art (hello, Ann & Jos!), I recognised Rene Magritte's dream-like style instantly

Back at the apartment we showered, changed and headed back out into the rain, stopping for a couple of beers in the bar next door. BAIRES, if you're wondering, is missing an apostrophe and stands for Buenos Aires. Much to Jon's disgust, after England, I've always supported Argentina so raised a glass to Messi in anticipation of Friday's match.

We returned to El Vegetariano De La Alcazabilla for dinner, sharing tasty platters of empanadas (savoury turnovers) and croquettes.

The following morning it was still tipping it down. After wandering Málaga trying to find the bus back to the airport we admitted defeat and hailed a cab, which - like the food, drink and accomodation - was remarkably good value. 

Touching down at an icy Birmingham Airport in the early afternoon we passed through immigration in record time, hopped on the train and watched Brazil Vs Croatia on Jon's phone, getting back in time to see Brazil thrashed on penalties.

Málaga was fabulous, beautiful architecture, clean streets, bucketloads of culture, great food and even better, it wasn't -8°C (unlike here!) Don't take our word for it, Simon Calder, The Independent's travel expert and all-round lovely man, also recommends it in this article. Having only visited six of Málaga's thirty-two museums, galleries and monuments, we'll definitely be back.

Thanks for reading, see you soon!