April 15, 2010. More than nine years ago, I wrote the first post in this blog. Nine years! I would not have imagined that back then. This very post is the 600th post to be published. Also something I would not have imagined. Going travelling back then was one of the most important turning points in my life. Having just been laid off, I could just as easily have applied for a new job and continued with business as usual.

Went to see a premier league basketball game for - I think - the first time in my life. Berlin was playing Ulm in the quarterfinals. Such a relaxed and family friendly affair. I only have soccer as a comparison, where it’s usually a lot of drunk people and heaps of police, versus… this: Only 10,000 in attendance though, that makes a difference to the 50k+ you see in a Bundesligastadion.

Another entry in the series “Warum in die Ferne schweifen…”.

Did somebody say “Stairway to Heaven”?

When in need for cash in a foreign country, one is presented with several options. They are, in order from best to worst: Withdrawing with a credit card at a local ATM. This is a good option because the home bank will use the inter-bank rate for converting from foreign into home currency. Banks might charge an “overseas ATM use fee”, but those are getting rarer and have never been an issue with online banks like TransferWise or n26.

Some airports have acceptable coffee, I remember Ljubljana favourably. Other airports just don’t deliver on the front of hot caffeinated beverages. Brussels seems to be strongly set on that list, as all the establishments I saw had those one-button-press machines. Those that generate a light brown insult to the coffee bean. So what do to? I have a 4.5 hour layover and the city center is 20 minutes by train. Is that going a bit far for a cup of coffee?

Málaga is quiet this time of the year. Temperatures under 20° make it unattractive for the beach crowds and all those coming for the nature are not staying in town for long. I like it that way and I’m happy to report that food and coffee are on a whole different level than the rubbish they serve in Madrid.

6:49, push-back. On the freaking minute! I have left behind a year of delayed departures on LCCs and opted to go for a normal airline for my trip to Málaga. It has its downsides, admittedly, a stopover in Bruxelles rather than a direct connection, but I think it’ll be worth it. Departing from terminal A at TXL and not the embarrassing tin shed that is Schönefeld. No giddy teenagers trying to mask their nervousness with idle chatter.

Visited café number nine this morning and lo and behold: decent coffee. Still a hipster shop falling for the 100% Arabica folly, plus I had to tell them not to water it down too much, but it was acceptable. Empanada lunch at an Argentinian place was enjoyable as well. What I really enjoyed was conversing in Spanish. I have by now reached a level that allows me to navigate and to talk about food and beverages.

There is a cathedral around the corner, it’s heavy old doors bolted shut. Just like my heart to Madrid. We are not becoming friends. Normally it takes me half a day to find out where the good stuff is. Food, coffee, staff, … not so in Madrid. After two days and eight coffee shops I still haven’t had a single good cup of coffee. Beer is mostly Heineken or Bitburger, local brews far in between.