2026 March 23 – 2026 May 8
Traveling light, just with carry on is great, we would not do it any other way, but it means that we need to find laundromats wherever we are. After 10 days it was time, luckily just opposite of our hotel we discovered a very small completely automated laundromat. We did not even wait there, instead we sat outside in the neighboring restaurant to have some lunch. No time wasted.
Just before we left our hotel to catch a train to Seville a military procession came by right below our balcony. All uniformed personel of the city and government is allowed to participate in Semana Santa, they don’t see this as a threat against the secular state. There was a constitutional challenge in 2011, but it did not succeed: “when a religious tradition is integrated into the social fabric of a particular group, it cannot be argued that public authorities intend to convey support for or adherence to religious tenets through it.”
I don’t know if rudeness and feeling entitled always go together, but sadly here, it turns out frequently originates from American tourists. You know Krisztina, she always pays attention to make sure we don’t block anyone’s views when we pick our spot to watch the processions. We were just trying to find a place to stand, a family in the front row told us to keep moving to somewhere else, saying “what are you thinking, we came two hours early to secure this spot!” I guess for them all this is just a spectacle. No doubt they were right, but conflict so often rises from what is right and just, even when you could easily make space for others. As it happened two days later a Spanish family with three children, baby carriage, a grandma sitting on a small stool, pointed us to a little space behind them allowing us to stand there.
On our last day we decided to go down to the marina and beach, beautiful sunny day. We took a short catamaran cruise to enjoy the sea. I was sitting on a net just above the water, a playground for adults, I guess. This unplanned excursion turned out to be one of the highlights of our stay here in Malaga.
Above the obvious religious significance there is something else in these events. The way those huge gates and doors open up one after other in different point of the city to the heartbeat of loud drums and how the processions slowly making their way using different routes to the city center, there is something deeply moving and unique in that. You would think that this week is just another way to draw tourists to this city, but I heard more spanish than German, English or French around me. The entire city participates, and it is not just for show. Isn’t this a perfect proof that communities need customs, traditions not just to survive, but to thrive? Traditions are participatory, alive when practiced together. Symbolic acts that are performed regularly are connection points not just to their past but to each other, extremely important that links generations, revitalize shared understanding, replenishes memories you can hold on to during difficult times. This is awesome, what an unforgettable experience. You know me, I would do anything to avoid crowds, but this is different. I never thought that just standing there with so many people, witnessing together something to unfold can be so peaceful. Reverence that I thought completely disappeared from this world.
Each neighborhood of the city has its own brotherhood, men and sometimes women have the job to carry these extremely heavy thrones around the city. The route takes about 6 hours to complete with several stops along the way, including the cathedral. Big crowds are waiting for them at the end, at their local church to return. Here is a video that probably shows how difficult this is.
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We wanted to see how these large thrones are getting out of their churches, we stood at the entrance of St. John, that is right beside our hotel. What an incredible sight when they appear from the dark and slowly in swinging motion moving forward to an unbelievably narrow street.
People lining up the streets on the procession route. First you hear the drums, then the marching band, then the thrones are slowly getting closer and closer, carried by hundreds of man. The atmosphere must of been something similar in Jerusalem on that particular day. Well, let’s talk about the hood or mask, here they call it capirote, it has nothing to do with kkk, the customs they are related to are older than 300 years. They represent anonymous repentance before God. We also saw little children with small piece of aluminum foil in their hand asking the Nazarenos (people wearing the mask) to drip vax on the foil. Every day they accumulate more and more vax, growing their ball to represent their participation in holy week.
Probably in most cities of the world the best place to observe genuine, raw and local energy is the market, a place where tourists are welcome but not catered to too much. Atarazanas market in Malaga is such a place with its stained glass and beautiful architecture. Noisy, colorful and fully alive with small family stands. When we purchased some candied hibiscus flowers and prunes from Mario he offered that we can make a selfie with him, while he was talking excitedly about America, he knew his geography for sure. Lots of interesting seafood choices.
Decided to follow the procession to the cathedral. Here is another short video:
