Melilla is a Spanish outpost on the northern coast of Morocco. Along with Ceuta (or Sebta) it is known as Spanish North Africa. Both towns are fairly small, but there is some nice architecture, and there are some nice cheap tax-free shops.

However, I decided not to go this weekend. I’m already glad about my choice.

Vista desde Melilla la Vieja by Miguel González Novo

I have been feeling a bit ill and under the weather as everyone knows. The journey to Melilla would take around 5 and a half hours by train, starting at 5.15. The train goes to Beni Nhar, from where you catch a grand taxi (remember them?) to the border. Passing through border control is easy [and of course it counts as leaving the country. Very handy if you happen to need to renew a Visa, which is the reason for some of my friends heading up there this weekend]. But once you get there, apparently it’s quite boring. Pretty, but boring.

So I opted out, in favour of a relaxed weekend full of terrible television and chilling in bed. It’s getting so cold here now that it’s difficult not to just give up and spend all the time I have in bed anyway. My mood has being going on a downer for a few weeks (I hope it hasn’t come across too much) and so nothing appeals to me more than having a weekend where I honestly don’t HAVE to do anything.

It will be bliss.

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