June 01, 2025 · Málaga, Spain
Cycling along Fuengirola was something else entirely. The promenade is gorgeous, lined with cafes, bars, and yes, quite a few British pubs too. I knew from my first ride that this stretch was going to be a highlight, and it delivered every single day.
What I loved most was how it managed to feel touristic without being overwhelming. Locals were out at the bars, people were kayak polo-ing in the water, life was just happening. That's the beauty of cycling, really.
“There’s no way I would have stumbled across any of that on foot.”
A Day Trip to Ronda
The following day, I braved a trip to Ronda. Ms. Wildfire managed a spot in a van, and off we went to this impossibly picturesque town. I only had about four hours before my return bus, so I couldn't venture too far from the centre. A short ride later, it was time for some food, and Ronda is officially the place that made me fall in love with walnut goat cheese salad. I'm not sorry about it.
Back on the bike and into the cobbled streets. The souvenir shops had the most beautiful ceramic plates on display, genuinely tempting, but as always, I sufficed with a magnet. If you have more time than I did, Ronda is apparently brilliant for longer cycling trips. Just leaving the town opens up wide, open roads that looked absolutely perfect for it. I didn't get far, but even the short ride made for a happy afternoon.
The Wrong Bus (A Blessing)
The journey back, however, had other plans. I boarded the wrong bus, which instead of heading straight to Fuengirola, went to Malaga's central station. Ms. Wildfire ended up in the cargo hold, which was a little nerve-wracking, and my bus driver was not exactly thrilled with the situation. I'll blame the Spanish-English miscommunication. Thankfully, a couple of kind co-passengers stepped in and assured me the connection was easy.
Standing at Malaga central station, I weighed my options. Train? Bus? Or just trust Ms. Wildfire? This is where European summers earn their reputation. Ample daylight, 31 kilometres, two hours. We cruised through Torremolinos and Benalmadena, and I treated myself to tapas and a glass of wine on arrival in Fuengirola. No regrets whatsoever.
“As it so often goes, the wrong turn led somewhere wonderful.”
Books, Bowls & a Bruised Knee
The next morning called for another promenade loop and an acai berry bowl for breakfast. By this point in the trip, I had started bringing a book along to fill the quiet moments between rides. There is something genuinely lovely about pulling your bike up at a nice viewpoint and just reading for a bit. So much better than picking up your phone.
I did have a fall, I should mention. The weather had turned cloudy and drizzly, and taking a corner on wet tarmac, Ms. Wildfire lost her footing and down we went. She was absolutely fine, sound as a pound, but my knees took a knock. It was okay though. My main concern in that moment was sincerely hoping nobody had witnessed the whole thing.
The Fuengirola promenade ride is a must, as is the stretch from Malaga centre towards Benalmadena. The cycle path is well-marked and cyclists are genuinely respected out there.
Malaga has well and truly won my heart. Don't skip it on a trip to Spain, and if you can spare a few hours for a bike ride, please do.
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