I have learned that sales can be fun, except at the end of the year, the end of the half year, the end of the quarter, and sometimes the end of the month when you need to reach your quota. This is when your destiny is controlled by Gods, aka customers, who may or may not opt to buy your stuff at fire sale prices. Or, when management makes decisions that take success out of your hands, but places the blame securely in your lap. After the hullabaloo at the end of the year, you look forward to the annual company meetings which promise those free trips to lush tropical resorts, exclusive country clubs, and five-star restaurants. It is also the time that the bean counters enforce all standards of frugality and forces you to travel in cattle class and share rooms.
The smarter among the salespeople have realized that there are many legitimate ways of funding your personal life - to admittedly a small degree - through your business life, like planning a vacation to coincide with your travel to the annual company meeting. This time around, five of us decided to make a visit to Spain. But due to some irrational exuberance, two of the group missed getting the Visa on time and rest of us made the visit. At the outset, there was no intention of making a quixotic tour, but it ended like one.
I expected Spain's Malaga to be a tacky town, brimming over with charter flight tourists on their way to the Costa del Sol, avoided by anyone with an allergy to resort towns. But I found none of the package tourists looking for bacon and egg breakfasts and instead a solid Spanish crowd eating croissant and drinking coffee as they stood at bars late each morning. It seems tourists give Andalucía’s charming city not a second glance before heading to the horribly crowded beaches of the Costa del Sol.
But it is gorgeous location to happily spend a week, a month, eating tapas and drinking wine, or shopping for bread, cheese and vegetables at the huge indoor market to picnic in a lush park, with friends and a two Euro bottle of sangria. It would take that long for anyone to learn to navigate the winding cobblestone laid old streets, which luckily all seem to lead, in the end, to the main plaza. And to be able to find the Picasso museum - testament to Malaga's famous son - whenever you like, rather than because chance leads you to it.
The Moors occupied Malaga until the mid fifteenth century and have left their mark on the city's historic centre and its 10th century fortress, La Alcazaba. After the Moors, the city became one of the biggest trading centres on the european peninsula. Now Malaga is a charming hybrid of old and new, a shopper's dream as well as an historian's. We submerged ourselves in the streets and the gorgeous markets, which are a food lover's fantasy, overflowing with olives, meats, cheeses and breads, tapas bars and vegetable vendors.
All through Andalusia and especially in sleepy villages like Mijas, we walked hours every day until we began to recognize corners, streets and plazas, knew where to get the best coffee and veg sandwiches, and had been ripped off by street side hawkers.
Our road journey took us inland to Ronda and Granada, where we stopped roadside in golden fields watching others eat delights lik
e calamari and avocados, while we stuffed ourselves with bottle after bottle of mineral water and sandwiches. Ronda is layered with history, with monuments of Romanesque, Gothic and Renaissance periods, as well as the impressive neo-classical Plaza de Toros, which is one of the oldest bullrings in Spain. Ronda's bullring is said to be the birthplace of the school of bullfighting on foot (Matadors) rather than horseback (Picadors).
If Ronda and Granada mesmerized us with magnificent manmade structures, the caves of Nerja wore testimony to the fact that nature is the best architect of all. It was as if clothes of rock were folded and stuck to the ceiling. It was truly amazing to be in a place which has been formed over 225 million years. To be reminded of being a speck in the universe is always humbling and gratifying too.
In the land of Don Quixote, you cannot help but follow the legend. On the last day of the sojourn, on a whim, we decide to go the rock of Gibraltar. Till that quixotic moment, we had followed a meticulous plan and the trip was a breeze. We knew that it was in a different administrative territory and our visa did not allow
us to enter. However we decided to take a chance and reach there. Things just got better when one of us even forgot to bring the passport along. We entered Gibraltar, without anyone checking our credentials and spent 4 hours exploring the rock and the town. It was heartening to see the city center market full of Indian businessmen and bore testimony to their acumen, ambition and drive. On our way out of Gibraltar, we were told that we cannot reenter Schengen as we had only a single entry visa. But, as the officials were embarrassed and flummoxed by their slip of letting us in, they let us go after we assured that they we were flying out of Spain the same evening.
There are days in your life which you want to package and relive, day after day, exactly the same way. The vacation in Spain merited it, though we were feeling the withdrawal symptoms of being away from work. We returned back utterly glad for the Andalucían idle and the Malaga magic.
