It was a tough ride up to Mijas Pueblo today—my legs weren’t exactly thrilled after yesterday’s long haul. Meanwhile, my parents had taken the bus and were already waiting for me when I arrived.
We wandered around town like the tourists we absolutely are. Quiet streets, warm sun, and postcard views around every corner. We stopped for a small lunch – some perfectly crispy chicken tapas.
After lunch, I rolled down toward Benalmádena, the road smooth and the sun keeping me company. But then – yay (not).
Just after a short tunnel, I was pulled over by the police. No lights, no reflectors on the bike – technically fine-worthy.
Luckily, the officer didn’t speak a word of English, so it turned into a game of charades. I got off with just a stern gesture.
(I will never forget lights in the Spanish tunnels ever again, promise).
Further down in Benalmádena, I suddenly heard someone yell “HISINGEN!” – yep, a fellow Gothenburger. Small world, even on the Costa del Sol.
I followed the coastline back, with the Mediterranean comfortable cool breeze.
That evening, we celebrated the parents’ double birthdays – 60 and 70 – with dinner at Los Emebros.
And as the sun went down a glass of chilled rosada concluded the day…
