Yes I went travelling again, HOWEVER and this is a big HOWEVER, hence capital button being smashed, I somehow lost my funny, my knack for writing and probably some condoms too last year! You guys know the drill, I need to overshare and explain myself. To anyone who is new here, welcome to the life update / section its frequent in this travel blog.
The formulae is, depressing life news, pre travel tips, photos, actual travel, sex stories, photos and nonsensical outro, good everyone caught up?! Right, let me depress you!

I recently moved from my place in Manchester to my family home in Berkshire. 2022 was just a bizarre and draining year. I was made redundant in 2020, had a string of jobs I just didn’t want to attend, depression / self destruction attacked my soul and a dear friend died from cancer. Moving forward didn’t feel like an option at one point. My attempts to revive myself with streaming and writing weren’t cutting it, something drastic was required…. *cue sigh* DAD I’M COMING HOME!

While I’ve been at home, trying to sell my Manchester house, it’s no longer my home as it's tainted with the memories of a life pulled apart and remnants of a potato-headed ex haunted the walls and the ripped up, pissed on carpet his shit of a puppy left behind!
Anyway that chapter in my life is finished and noted in my memoirs (of a chocolate geisha… oh I might actually name my biography)

“BEEP BEEP” Wait a sec everyone, my phone is going off…
EDITOR “Yo miserable bugger, you finished boring everyone?!?”
ME “OH hi imaginary editor, it's been years how are you? Also number 1 how dare you?”
EDITOR “I’m good I’ve been on a 4 year recess within the depth of your hollow cranium, can you get on with the funny sexy stuff please for the love of Pete?”
ME “ alright yes, I’m doing it”
EDITOR “ It’s like you have ADHD”
ME “ I might do I want to get tested for it”
EDITOR “Sorry I wasn’t listening, I was cleaning out your Cerebellum section, what were you doing?”
ME “I was waiting for you to recapture my Spanish holiday!!EDITOR “ Sit up and type slower, idiot, anyway here you go, I’ll start you off, Spanish Gasp!”
Me “ Ugh”Right I’ve depressed and confused you with meta humour, LET US BEGIN, GET THE CHEESE, OLIVES AND WINE READY!Pre travel

As I was a bit rusty, I decided to book my travel via Expedia thinking I was being clever with my cash, PAH! Klarna to the rescue but my lack of research came to bite me in my plump ass! I managed to book a flight & hotel, HOWEVER the place I booked was 1 hour drive from the airport and transfers were not included AND I found the hotel cheaper elsewhere, maybe I should read my own blog, oops!Fun Fact – Flight costs change WEEKLY, its best to book your flight Monday – Wednesday as Thursday to Sunday are high website traffic and if the allocation for that price goes, the price rockets (or rarely drops), always book well in advance and check a minimum for 3 comparisonsites just in case as some comparison sites have accounts / deals with certain outlets / airlines, so not all flights / destinations are visible. #SKYSCANNERISYOURPAL

If there’s an option to book transfers, research this too! I had an option with Expedia, checked another site and found the same transfer company at £10 cheaper! I have no links for the transfer website however: I stayed at Hotel Competa which was around 1 hour from Malaga Airport – prepare yourself with ginger pills and a solar charge battery pack as it’s a hilly twisty drive. (You can buy one I recommend here )

Now, before I get to the actual holiday, Hotel Competa is up in the mountains. You won’t get much reception unless at the hotel and wifi spots but they do have a WhatsApp chat. There was a miscommunication with the hotel/Klarna/Expedia where the lovely Maria was arguing with me to say I haven’t paid but Klarna/Expedia hadn’t released my funds. Again double check everything 😊

There’s an alternative accommodation I can recommend to you as I made friends with the owner of www.la-madrugada.com , it’s managed by the lovely Marco , who can probably tell you more about the area in 4 languages (show off) & wow you with the local gay nightlife!!

THE ACTUAL HOLIDAY

We are finally in Malaga, now as a Brit, I always hear “Malaga”, “Fuengirola”, “Shagalov”, “Marbs” and my semi cultured brain just hears an essex bird (lady for you non – brits) asking for a “PEENOT” while her greasy v-necked boyfriend requesting Ketchup for his Paella. My heart sinks and I claim my Bajan heritage there and then.

However Malaga is a beautiful, artistic haven of a cosmopolitan city, the Mcdonalds here does BBQ wings, so we are in the upper - middle class territory. My taxi arrives, thankfully it's arranged by the hotel owners of the hotel and it’s a scenic route. You drive along the beachfront, up in the mountains, peering out to the sunny horizons. To embrace the views, I just pretend I’m in an old 1930s B&W movie as a pearl draped beauty in a headscarf, Chanel, off to see her Millionaire husband who greets me with “oh Darling, you’re back, I missed you dearly” “oh Tony” . Or if you want to make It sinister, it's a dark thriller and my murderer is in the drawing room, dagger ready. Plot Twist… the man called Tony isn’t my husband.. DUN DUN DUN!

The hotel is located at the top hill of the modest sized village. My lord, it needs more attention, it's a simple yet well crafted, traditional Spanish hotel, modestly decorated but I can tell not enough customers frequent here and TLC is needed. BUT I beg you to come here please. After I’m greeted by Maria, we discuss the awkwardness of using text to communicate, and I'm shown to my room. I’m not sure what possessed me that day, but I opened the balcony doors, put my luggage under the table (cos thieves can’t see under tables ) and I stripped down to my trunks and take semi nude selfies. Maybe the altitude hit a nerve or the thought of not being in the UK gave me the le freak le chic horn. I was ready for sun, bum fun and lay on a man’s tum!

My room overlooked the hills, the generous sized pool and the hunky Spanish biker, there’s just this “home away from home” feel to this place, like I’ve been engulfed by warm cuddly busty senorita handing out paella with glee. The village on the hill ( sounds like a low budget horror film, maybe M Night Shamalaalongdingdongmyhappening). *Seriously.. 2.5 years of no blog and my adhd writing is in full form!*

Competa is catered for the middle to old aged, who invest in great dining, tasty wines and just putting your feet up and laughing your cares away. We’re on a hill 1 hour away from the nearest beach and the solitude is just surprisingly breathtaking.

SIDE NOTE -if you have any physical disabilities & back/leg problems, avoid this area or get a mobility scooter, contact your desired hotel and take a sturdy friend.

Now, I have to be honest I can’t remember what I did each day as I’m writing this WAY IN THE FUTURE, so this blog will be brief but still insane. My advice is to pick a road follow it, head into a bar get a drink as a friendly local will guide you to your next discovery, do this enough times, you’ll eventually loop back around to your starting point, with stronger legs and less balance & rouged lips.

There was a tapas and wine festival, set in Late May – end of June. I was there but you had 4 days to complete the task of having food & drink in 12 places.

This link (here) shows you what you need to do and what is involved, it's essentially “Wiking” Wine & Hiking but with little delicious dishes at each stop. I was satisfied and pissed which is the motif of most holidays.

You need to go to tourist information, where the nicest woman worked and she essentially told you where to go, gave you a kiss and patted you on the ass on your way out, she was glorious. Unfortunately I forgot her name but awwww love her!!

Next up is the travel to the beach, sweet lord, you need to get a taxi or the only bus that goes to / from Competa. It's relatively cheap but scary. I don’t know who decided that all mountain roads must go completely around the hills and the traffic must be national speed… no please, no thank you! Ignore my blissful 1930s roleplay from earlier, going down the hill with no seatbelt and full view of the road edge, is a different story. Please just build a teleporter already, I will pay extra!

The main beach stops are southwest of Malaga town. There’s a lengthy stylish promenade of bars, eateries & tourist traps to tickle your turnips.

I recommend any place that doesn’t do English food! Yeah I’m that snob, why spend this money to eat the same crap you eat at home.

Correction! Pick the place with the hottest waiter, most of them are 50+ so pick the salt and pepper hunk with the cheesiest smile for that authentic Spanish thrill. Almost fell off my seat after one waiter “wapped” the black pepper grinder near my chin, grinned with lust and the words “big tip” in his eyes. Everything after this encounter makes me hazy with lust.

Anyway, MOVING ON, if you need another Spanish Thriller in your life (anyone else sing MJ’s Thriller in a dodgy Spanish accent like I just did?)

I briefly mentioned it earlier but head over to Malaga… I had no frigging idea it was so nice, there’s castles, modern marina shopping districts, beaches, a plethora of museums, which is not surprising as it’s the home of Pablo Picasso! There’s literally so much I missed and wasn’t able to do, here’s a recommended link for places to visit.

Forget Marbs and the cast of TOWIE, get some real refined culture and illustrious city settings. Also if you’re like me and you’re a jetsetter cover girl, you may even bump into a mate from back home, I know everyone darling. (EDITOR’S NOTE: my mate told me he would be here during these dates but I clearly forgot and then proceeded to tag along to his holiday and get some free beers cos I’m a fun and fancy freeloader).

Word of advice, don’t get the 6am flight back home, it's not worth the neck ache and lack of sleep, trying to camp at the airport was not a bright idea. To add insult I had to queue for my flight between 2 gorgeous model couples who were recounting every magical moment they spent together with me crying internally & forced smiling with them, while eye humping the local talent on grindr.

With the most SCOUSE couple behind me, bickering and swearing about everything under the sun including the sun. For those not familiar with Scousers, there’s a section of Liverpool / Merseyside which has an accent so ridiculously ingrained with a mixture of phlegmy throat clearing, whining and a pitch so high, Mariah would be impressed. Basically if the word has a vowel or more than 1 syllable, expect to be inaudibly confused and potentially spat on!

This couple complained about everything, there was so much spit & venom I was seeking a life jacket! AND the bad perfume, my lord, if he bought her that knock off gucci spray to show his affection for her, he might as well kick her in the boob.

Anyway, beautiful travellers, go Complete Competa and Marvel at Malaga, it gets Marvy’s 6 thumbs up … don’t ask me where I got the additional thumbs..maybe don’t look in my suitcase.

Check out the pics I took on this trip in the gallery below. :)

IGNORES YOU & LEAVES IN SPANISH