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  • Michael Noctor

Malaga, Hetti & Me

I’m starting this blog as the plane makes its way to the runway for take off. I’m on my way to my beloved Málaga – my spiritual home – and the airport procedure took me back in time, to a time not so long ago when my home was my Honda and I used to scrape the money together so I could bounce between Dublin and Málaga, and right now this plane is bouncing ... A Swedish ex girlfriend told me she liked turbulence and that helped to calm me the next time I flew. When I shared that with her she told me she had been joking. She was a See You Next Tuesday. I enjoy the random wandering nature of my mind when I write. My dad once said, ‘Trust Michael to go out with the ugliest woman in Sweden,’ and I am paraphrasing, but the gist is clear. He laughed. It was funny. I laughed. We both laughed, a lot. There was a lot of laughter in that house ... and plenty of tears through the years.

I’m not travelling alone. I sat down to eat in the departures area and discovered a stowaway. Hetti. There’s a background story to Hetti – we all have a background story – but I’m not going to share it, yet.



The turbulence has subsided, thankfully. I am listening to Las Orishas, a Cuban rap band that I was introduced to by Tony from Cuba of all places. I realised last minute that I had zero tunes downloaded to my Spotify and luckily it was a case of last minutes, which gave me enough time to add some. When you have to act and choose quickly like that it can be a good way of discovering which tunes you like best. Damien Dempsey and Jackson Browne being high on my list. I’ll get to them later. I like listening to Damo when I ramble through the beautiful streets of Málaga.


Hetti loving her first time on a plane


I (We) will be in Málaga when this is posted.


Turbulence has reappeared. Me no likey.


Hasta luego.


Michael (and Hetti)


P.S. I am, well, we are forty five minutes from Málaga. I haven’t been here since January, 2020. On that trip I hadn’t smoked for three months; this time it’s eleven days to me being a non-smoker for two years. Twenty-one months since I’ve been on plane. It feels surreal.


P.P.S. Hetti is settling in to the Malaga way of life -




Hetti would give her right arm for a smoke ... but I wouldn't