A Little Something About Dog Doo...

I think one of the ¨rights of passage¨ for traveling in Europe must be stepping on dog shit. You are happily walking along some street in London, Paris, Rome or... Malaga, and suddenly your feet slides and you realize some dog out there has left you a present. You instinctively try to wipe it back on the pavement or break out in some dance moves on the grass, but it´s sort of like Christmas fruit cake, and won´t really go away. Some of that ¨present¨ just lingers on your shoes (or in this case, mine).

By the way, skip Malaga if you can, there are better beaches and Moorish monuments elsewhere, and the accommodations are ridiclously expensive. Off to Cordoba...