Monday, 12 July, 2010 --- Day 21

Up at 9:00. The program included breakfast and by 9:30 I was taking breakfast which was a bit of a charade, a glass of milk and a bun of bread with jam. Finished as soon as I could and went downstairs to find a supermarket to get provisions to sustain me for the 8 hour boat trip that was lying ahead. On the way back, at the lobby of the hotel, I noticed two computer screens. I inquired and bingo there was internet available. If only I knew that yesterday!! Something is better than nothing, however, so the little time that was left, recall by 10:30 I had to be at the port to buy my ticket, I devoted in updating the internet site. The connection was super fast and gave me the opportunity in 15 mins to check my email and to upload two days worth of notes and photos. I rushed back to my room packed up and took Spithas downstairs, delivered the card/key bid farewell and went out the door. As I was leaving, the receptionist, a different one from yesterday, called me back and asked me if I were leaving. I told him I was catching a boat, he then told me that I had not paid. I said “what do you mean? I paid the lady yesterday” pointing at the lady, who, thank god happened to be there, “and she told me she would give me the receipt later but never did.” The lady denied it and more forcefully I told her to think harder and that I did not have time to loose, the boat would not wait for me. I left and the receptionist started talking to the lady but did not attempt to stop me. The lesson from this is to always ask for the receipt.

All that rush for nothing. When I went to the port the first person that I talked to was a Maroqui whose trade seemed to be to take customers to a nearby agency. He also asked me if I had any Dirhams to change. At this I asked him “where were you yesterday when I was looking allover the place for you?” We went to the agency together and I bought a ticket for a lot less than I thought it would cost (€35, actually €40 w/ the tip I gave the Maroqui.) Next I rushed to the waiting room. Before entering, all passengers had to show an ID, in my case my passport. There were two officers, both very friendly. One of them told me he had seen a Greek passport only once before and asked me if by any chance I had a Greek ID, which I did not, just because he would like to see how it looks like. Meanwhile the other one was going over my info and took a very long time. I asked him if everything was OK and he said that everything was fine, he just had not seen a Greek passport before. I am not sure, but I think he took a picture of my passport w/ his cell phone.

Finally, I proceeded to the waiting room




Actually all that rush was for nothing. The few passengers, not more than ten, had to wait for about half an hour before getting aboard.

Fortress next to the port


Melilla seen from the port


Finally we sailed away






I spent the 8 hours that followed in the deck room


reading books on the netbook


We arrived at Malaga at 20:00


The port was right at the center of town. Soon I found an hotel “Pension Avenida” Alameda Principal no 5, Malaga. After getting installed I went foraging. Even though it was after 21:00 I found an open supermarket. Went back to the hotel w/ all the goodies and then went out for a walk. Half a block away from the hotel a man walked up to me from behind and talked to me. He was apparently drunk and I tried to avoid him but then I thought “what the hell!” So I tried to answer his questions which ranged from “why did Jesus say that we are free when nothing is free?” To this I tried to explain that he did not mean that when Christianity prevailed one wouldn’t have to pay for anything but he rather meant that one had the freedom of choice, which, in my opinion, is not a clear at all issue, if you accept that God already knows what will happen. Of course I did not tell him that. It reminded me the Obama voters, however, who expected that after Obama gets elected they would not have to pay for the gasoline or anything else. He was from the Canaries and kept saying that all the people from Saragosa to Malaga were cheats and maricones. You are in a position now to understand the philosophical depth of our conversation. He then said “lets go for a drink” my original impulse was to say now but then I said to myself “what the hell you don’t have to bike tomorrow anyhow!” All this time he kept referring to me as you all and us. Soon it was clear the “you all” meant the Maroquis and your religion meant Islam. Even when I told him my name was Basilio he did not react, taking it for an Islamic name. Be that as it may I decided that I would be from Morocco and of the Muslim faith for the rest of the evening. It is pointless denying your roots and who you are, anyhow. As we were walking in search for a bar he pointed out to me that there are 4 million Spaniards living like myself in the streets. I told him that this is impossible but he insisted “yes indeed it is more than 4 million.” This is comforting I thought, at least I am not alone. Finally we went to a bar which was next to my hotel and he immediately ordered beers and paid for them right away and then tried to give me the change that was left, approximately 7 euros. I politely declined and told him that this was his money. He looked very surprised and repeated his offer but I politely declined again. To make a long story short the rest of the evening went on like this till the bar had to close and we had to leave. As we walked out I asked him if he had a place to stay for the night. He said “what difference does it make?” And then asked me where I would spend the night. I told him I had a room at the nearby hotel. I guess it was impossible to get anything through to him, ‘cause his answer was “OK I’ll pay for you to stay in a hotel.” I knew he did not have a place to stay because earlier he had said that he was passing through Malaga and was on his way home, the “isles Canarias.” So I took him to the hotel and the receptionist, a very kind and helpful man, gave him the cheapest room he had available. I walked him up to the second floor and offered to open the door for him which he vehemently refused. When, however, he failed for the next five minutes to find the keyhole and I renewed my offer he allowed me to open the room door for him and show him in. I am really curious how he is going to look tomorrow. Incidentally, I think I saved him a lot of money, because at the bar he kept asking the barman every five minutes “how much do I owe you?” and the barman, probably because I was there, kept telling him “you have already paid.”