Every November, Claire reigns as the queen of our annual getaway. This year, she’s once again celebrated in her style, as we take a five-day road trip through the heart of Andalusia, Spain. Organized by me but entirely led by her whims, this journey is a tribute to her birthday and our shared love of travel.
For the second year in a row, Málaga is our base—a sunlit city full of energy, nestled along the southern coast.
Here, our days are filled with long walks, rooftop cocktails, bustling mercados, and endless tapas. One of our favorite spots is El Pimpi, the famous restobar partly owned by Antonio Banderas. It’s the closest we get to a brush with fame, and it’s now a cherished tradition in our travels.
First meal tapas and Tinto Verano and Cerveza VictoriaOf course she will always have the traditional picture near the wall of fame
Last year, we’d planned a side trip to Granada but didn’t quite make it. This time, however, we fulfilled our promise and ventured into Granada’s charming streets and storied hills.
Granada: A Two-Day Journey Through Time and Culture
Granada’s tranquil beauty and rich Moorish heritage made our two-day trip feel like a step back in time. We started at the Mercado de San Agustín, a bustling market that reminded us of Cebu’s shotokil tradition. We bought fresh seafood to be cooked on-site, and it turned out to be a delicious, affordable feast.
Madame Clair
The next day, we set out for the Albaicín de Granada (historically known as Rabad al-Bayyīzīn or the Falconers’ Quarter). This historic neighborhood, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is Granada’s oldest and most emblematic district. It’s where Iberians, Romans, Muslims, and Christians left traces of their cultures.
We began our day at the Mirador de San Nicolás, where we were treated to a stunning view of the Alhambra, Granada’s iconic Moorish palace and fortress. The breathtaking scenery was the perfect start to our day.
The famous Alhambra
Nearby, we stopped for tea and baklava at the Mosque of Granada and experienced the peaceful ambiance as men prayed and chanted from the Quran.
We had mint tea and Baklavas then ordered again for a latte and baklava
Afterward, we continued up to the Cuevas del Sacromonte, or “Gypsies’ Caves,” said to be the birthplace of Flamenco. The energy in this area is contagious, with echoes of dance and music deeply embedded in its hills and caves.
Our day concluded with a stroll along Calle Elvira, which marks the border between the Albaicín and Granada’s city center. This vibrant, colorful street, with its narrow cobblestones and bustling vibe, felt like stepping into a Moroccan souk, rich with scents, sounds, and flavors that stay with you long after you leave.
Calle Elvira
Back to Málaga
Tomorrow, we’ll return to Málaga to close out our annual November escape. Until next year! As we always say, “It’s not about the years we live; it’s about the life we choose to celebrate every year.”
Here’s to many more birthdays, adventures, and memories together.
Every so often, a spark of goodness crosses our path.
A quiet kindness that asks for nothing in return. Now and then, a gentle tenderness is given, wrapped in trust, without hesitation or demand, leaving you vulnerable in a way that reminds you—you are special.
Hold onto this, for once it slips past, it won’t return.
Goodness offered, kindness shared—but forever is fleeting.
Yes, I’ve arrived at that phase of life. My knees? Oh, they’ve made a dramatic exit, thanks to arthritis. The cartilage in both knees is gone, which means my favorite activities have vanished too—goodbye, running and yoga! And let me tell you, that goodbye hurt more than my joints.
Meanwhile, my hormones are acting like a fireworks display, constantly going off without warning. This means I can go from weeping over a commercial to snapping at someone for breathing wrong—all in the same hour. And let’s not even get started on the sugar cravings, courtesy of glucose levels playing hopscotch every day. My belly fat? It’s taken on a life of its own, and I swear it’s plotting something.
Here comes the vicious cycle: “I can’t exercise because my joints hurt, which means I gain weight, which makes my joints hurt even more.” Exhausting, right? Well, one day I decided: Enough. There has to be more to menopause than this chaos. I wanted the 51-year-old version of me to be healthier, stronger, and maybe even a little fiercer.
So, what did I do? I became a cougar 浪. Enter: the most handsome coach in the world. Picture this: piercing blue eyes, full of concern (or maybe just mild amusement). Our first conversation went something like this:
Coach (gazing at me, probably wondering if I’m serious): “What do you want to happen with your body?”
Me: “Uhm, well, I don’t want to be Barbie… but I’d love to be fit, wrangle this midline before it gives me a cardiac arrest, and be able to jog at 70.”
Now, my coach doesn’t mess around. He pushes me to break my limits but always respects my limitations. He doesn’t care that I’m 51. “The body follows where the mind leads,” he says, which sounds so inspiring until you’re gasping for air after 20 squats.
So here I am, a month in, lifting weights—30 kg, 6 sets of 3 reps, deadlifts, and squats. My knees are getting stronger, and I can almost hear them whispering, “Thank you.” My coach, still the ruthless gentleman, has slowly reintroduced the treadmill into my life, though I keep begging him to let me run on real terrain. His answer: “Soon. Not yet. Patience.”
Menopause and aging may throw curveballs, but they don’t have to steal the things we love. Two months from now, I’ll be back to my morning yoga or jogging short distances—mark my words.
This is healing. I love me, and that means I’m going to take care of me.
Coach and I call this “wonder woman”project . I always wonder ..😄😄😄
Not so long ago, I encountered Love—beautiful, sweet, and naïve. I wanted to embrace Love, but I hesitated, afraid of its fragility, its tenderness.
Years have passed, and once again, we find ourselves at a crossroads. My heart quickens, skipping a beat or two. Love looks different now, more mature, with stories etched in the lines of its face, stories of the Love we once knew.We tried to hold on, but Love had its own path to follow, new priorities to set.
Love is now here and there, sometimes lingering at the edge of a memory, smiling softly. Love is the wet lick of a furry friend on your cheek, a fleeting warmth that catches you by surprise. It’s the sun, the wind, and sometimes, the storm that rages within.
Love never truly ends; it simply changes, evolves, finding new ways to touch our lives.
When I was younger, I always envisioned an angel as having long blonde hair, wearing a white dress, and possessing fluffy wings. She had a beautiful smile that could lighten any load.
But as I grew older, I realized that angels come in many forms—short, tall, Black, white, men, women, or anything in between.
It maybe a kind face that is willing to give you a smile
An angel is more than just a celestial being; it’s a metaphor for a blessing, a symbol of hope, and a source of light that can make you smile when life feels hard to define.
We are all angels in our own way.
As my favorite author once said, “We are like angels with one wing; we need each other to be able to fly.”
Love, kindness , compassion and prayers is all we need to get through those days that are very challenging
So, choose to be an angel in someone’s life today.
A Fairytale Come to Life For as long as I can remember, Rothenburg ob der Tauber has been on my travel bucket list. Nestled along the Romantische Strasse—the Romantic Road of Germany—this picturesque town in the Ansbach district of Middle Franconia, Bavaria, has always called to me.
Finally, after years of dreaming, planning, and imagining, I found myself on a long drive through the rolling countryside, each mile bringing me closer to this enchanting place.
As I approached Rothenburg ob der Tauber, the anticipation that had been building inside me reached a peak. The town’s iconic medieval walls, turrets, and half-timbered houses appeared in the distance, looking like they had been plucked straight from a storybook. I had seen countless photos, read endless articles, but nothing truly prepared me for the magic of stepping into this fairytale world.
The moment I walked through one of the town’s ancient gates, I felt like I had traveled back in time. The cobblestone streets wound through the town like veins, leading me to charming squares and hidden alleys, each more beautiful than the last. It’s often said that Rothenburg is like a Disneyland for adults, and I couldn’t agree more. But where Disneyland is fantasy, Rothenburg is delightfully, authentically real.
This town wears its history proudly, with every building, every stone, telling a story. The medieval architecture here is breathtaking. Timber-framed houses painted in soft pastels line the streets, their steeply pitched roofs and intricate details making them perfect subjects for photographs. It’s no wonder every corner of this town is Instagrammable.
I found myself constantly pausing to capture yet another scene—whether it was the flower boxes brimming with vibrant blooms, the warm glow of sunlight filtering through narrow alleyways, or the towering spires of St. Jakob’s Church in the distance.
The most icon street Plolein , this was featured in the 1940’s disney film Pinnochio
One of the highlights was strolling through the Castle Garden, where the view of the Tauber Valley was simply breathtaking, surrounded by vibrant flowers and ancient stone walls.
I also savored a glass of Franconian wine served in the distinctive Bocksbeutel bottle, which added a local touch to the experience.
BocksbeutelOne must have a typical German Cuisine
And let’s not forget the famous Schneeballen pastries—a sweet treat that’s as delightful as the town itself.
The Schneeballen
Rothenburg isn’t just a town; it’s a dream come true, a place where history and beauty collide in the most enchanting way.
It was long beautiful drive back home with Rothenburg Ob der Tauber in my heart .
Sundown but our spirits are high .. thank you Rothenburg