It is utterly chaotic, and I am deliriously happy.

You see, the small bockety table we are squeezed around is covered with the most incredible food, and I’ve not seen the friend sitting beside me for far too many years. The wine is delicious, and there is a hanging rail of glorious Spanish hams. I am in Málaga, Spain.

To be precise, I am in Mesón Ibérico (mesoniberico.net), a couple of streets shy of the old town, and luckily for me, one of the rare spots open for lunch of a Monday when I visit. The table is covered in glasses of wine (red, local, and very, very good), and small plates of local charcuterie, which you are given when you order a glass — that’s a whopping €2.50 per glass, by the way, and the pouring is generous. We have also ordered grilled chorizo, a bit of morcilla, and a small portion of tiny local clams.

The clams are sautéed in olive oil and drizzled with lemon juice; the dish is finished with a healthy sprinkle of salt rocks, and a hunk of bread is placed beside me. This is noisy, joyful heaven.

My week in Spain is my first holiday abroad in three years. I stayed in Ireland during the pandemic and explored our island and enjoyed that greatly, but sometimes you just need foreign sounds, unusual scents, delicious new food, and a bit of sun on your face. Málaga offers all of these at a price I could afford.

Used mostly as an airport by people travelling across Andalucia, Málaga is somewhere many visitors seem to transit through. I love a good, unusual holiday though, and the description a friend gave me of a bustling working port city on the Costa del Sol sounded just fine to me.

Granted, the port is less about weathered fishermen landing the catch of the day and more about massive cruise ships disgorging armies of motivated folks keen to squeeze the best out of the city in the shortest amount of time. But if you have the time to sit for a few days, Málaga is a wonderful city to explore and soak up the sun, the tastes, the language, and the chaotic but relaxing atmosphere and way of life you find all around the Med.

  

 

While I enjoyed all the meat on that first glorious meal at Mesón Ibérico, what stayed with me most were those clams. I went to bed thinking about them and, yes, I woke up thinking about them. We all do that, right?

I came to town with a list of places to try a mile long. Recommendations from social media followers, word of mouth from friends, and internet sleuthing all led me to believe that seafood is what I wanted to eat in Málaga.

Clams are plentiful and come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and prices. My favourites are the simple small ones, eaten in that first meal. Called almejas, they tend to be served in very simple dressings in half or full portions (check in with your waiter as the half portions are often quite generous). The local razor clams are fresh and are available on most menus, too (I may also have eaten these every day).

Another highlight is a raw concha fina drizzled with a squeeze of a good lemon and eaten on the hoof, as I walk slowly, smelling the amazing food on show at the local market, the Mercado Central de Atarazanas (Calle Atarazanas, 10).

The concha fina is a larger, smooth clam found in the area. It washes your mouth with a sweet, briny juice which sets you right up for a bit of lunch at one of the tables you can find all around the market. These belong to the fishmongers, and so you can get a selection of fresh fish and seafood, grilled and slathered in garlic oil. I grabbed a beer, ate delicious food, and licked my fingers as I watched people go about their daily business.

While I had friends dropping in and out of my holiday, this was, overall, a solo adventure, and Málaga is brilliant if you are by yourself. There is so much life everywhere that you couldn’t possibly be bored.

And more importantly, I feel safe. I walk by the water until I get to the beach in Malagueta, a little bit out of town. I plant my feet in the wet sand and enjoy the Med licking at my toes and spraying me a bit. I dry off by sitting in the sun at a beachside table at a random chiringuito, those small huts that serve food and drink on the beach. The great majority serve fresh seafood cooked on skewers over hot sand. I go for a grilled sardine plate, which costs me €5. I leave with sandy feet, salty lips, and a big grin on my face.

I also find the best hot chocolate in the city in Café Berlin (Instagram: @cafe_berlin_malaga), a minute away from the cathedral and right next door to Museum Revello De Toro (a beauty). It is deep in flavour and so thick I wonder if they have used cornflour in it, which is something I do at home when the winter is miserable.

There is a lot of walking to be done in and around Málaga, and you can expect your step counter to get a bit excited. Between the exercise and the sea air, you will be ravenous, and I would strongly recommend you emulate my last lunch in town.

Get yourself a table (outdoors in their suntrap if you can) at La Cosmopolita in the heart of the old town (lacosmopolita.es), enjoy the fun service, and eat all the stunning food. The roasted beef marrow and prawn tartare dish will stay with me until the day I die.

Don’t miss

Sit at a terrace near the cathedral or at the bottom of the Alcazaba, preferably just before sunset. Grab a glass of chilled sweet Málaga wine and a bowl of olives, and smell the orange blossoms wafting through the warm evening air.

Get there

Both Ryanair and Aer Lingus fly to Málaga from Cork, Dublin and Shannon. Ryanair also flies from Ireland West (Knock). ryanair.com; aerlingus.com

A taxi from the airport costs €20-€25; a bus will cost €3. Travellers can enter Spain with an EU Covid Cert (those without a cert fill in a Health Control Form). Children under 12 are exempt from both. See spain.info for more.

Stay

Málaga has stays for all budgets. Katia rented a one-bed apartment through Pinar Hospitality on the edge of the old town. Facilities, service and location were excellent, but Wi-Fi was “patchy at best”. apartamentospinar.com