Zaragoza is not a village, it’s not small, nor is it surrounded by emptiness, as many believe.It’s embraced by many towns that also make it great. Leaving it doesn’t mean not loving it.Zaragoza, like other cities that have left their mark on us, has a strong personality.

Sometimes people say I left because I didn’t love it, but you need to get to know other places.I’ve always defended it as a great unknown. Just like Málaga — with its light, its joy, and that way of life that captures you — and many people don’t realize everything it truly is.It’s not just tourism and good weather; Zaragoza also has a soul, and it deserves to be told with affection.
Because it’s not about comparing, but about embracing every corner of Spain and its different ways of being home.

Zaragoza is not small, nor boring, and it’s certainly not a village.It’s a city of contrasts. People from Aragón are known for being stubborn… and rightly so.But they’re also noble and brave. If you say to someone, “I bet you won’t…” — you know what happens — they’ll do it without thinking. That’s how maños are.

I’d say the bad weather is some sort of divine punishment, a way to balance out its cuisine, its bars, its streets… even if it’s freezing cold, you enjoy it just the same.And, of course, its majestic Plaza del Pilar.

This post is dedicated to two people who taught me to savor Zaragoza: my aunt María Jesús and Carmen.Two women who, since I was little, taught me to live without excuses. Carmen is no longer with us, but oh, how she lived… the way she wanted, fighting for rights and enjoying what she had earned.
Because living well and dreaming that everyone can do so are not incompatible.I will always remember her with her gin and tonic and a plate of oysters.

Her place was Casa Pedro. Her temple.And if you get the chance, don’t hesitate: it’s not the cheapest spot, but every bite is worth it.Even so, what I miss most isn’t a specific dish, but the ritual: going out for vermouth.Which isn’t just the drink — it’s the moment.Those hours before lunch, nibbling tapas with a beer and some pickles at Bodegas Almau.

And if you visit Zaragoza, getting lost in El Tubo is a must.Because Zaragoza is eaten there. And how it’s eaten.At Casa Lac, the tomato melts in your mouth, the Tudela lettuce hearts crunch as if just picked.But there are options for every budget too: a beer at Doña Casta with their out-of-this-world croquettes; the classic Bar El Champi, where a simple tapa becomes unforgettable.
And my personal favorites: Bula Tapas and Méli del Tubo.Places where everything tastes like coming home.

I don’t know if it’s still hanging, but there used to be a sign that said:“You’ll come for the water, you’ll return for the beer.”And it’s true. Whenever I see an Ambar beer on a menu, I order it.
It tastes like home.
It smells like village festivals, endless conversations, good times.And as a lover of advertising, I can’t help but get emotional over those campaigns that give you goosebumps.Ambar is Aragón. Ambar is home.

Yes, in Málaga life is happy, relaxed, you enjoy that kind climate where there are no in-betweens (literally and figuratively).But it’s not about competing between cities, it’s about recognizing how special each one is — with its landscapes, its flavors, its people.