Monk parakeets in Málaga, Spain

In recent years, monk parakeets in Málaga have become a familiar sight in the city. The striking green parrots have adapted well to urban life and can be seen especially in parks and on palm trees. Their loud screeching has now become part of the city’s soundscape. I visited the city last October and was fascinated by the birds.

The city Málaga

Can you observe birds or other animals well in a city like Málaga? This question wouldn’t leave my mind as I planned my trip to Spain. To be honest, Málaga wasn’t on my radar at first. My real destinations were Tarifa, where I wanted to see whales and dolphins, and Doñana National Park, where I hoped to witness huge flocks of flamingos. Málaga was meant to be nothing more than the starting point of my journey.

Because I write about birds and other animals on my blog with great enthusiasm, the monk parakeets in Málaga held a very special appeal for me. I’ll go into them in detail in the next section—but first, I’d like to introduce Málaga itself a little more.

On my day in Málaga, the weather showed itself at its very best: pleasantly summery, with temperatures reaching 26 or 27 degrees, no rain in sight, and only a light breeze gently moving through the city. Perfect conditions for a visit in late October—far more enjoyable than the oppressively hot Andalusian summer (which I had already experienced a few years earlier).

Since I had only arrived the day before, I started the morning at a relaxed pace. My first destination was the Gibralfaro Castle, which promised a wonderful view over the city.

Gibralfaro Castle is one of Málaga’s most distinctive landmarks. In Spanish, the castle is called Castillo de Gibralfaro. The name “Gibralfaro” actually comes from Arabic and roughly means “mountain of the lighthouse.” To visit the castle, you have to walk up a steep path. Yes, it was tiring—but the climb is definitely worth it.

The castle acquired its present form in the 14th century and at that time served to better protect the Alcazaba below as well as the city itself. Today, visitors can stroll along the ramparts and enjoy magnificent panoramic views—down to the Alcazaba far below, over the cathedral, and across the surrounding city. I, too, was captivated by the view and wandered along the walls.

From Gibralfaro Castle, I could also see the bullring—a place, a building, that I could only wish did not exist. Even from above it felt oppressive to me, and I couldn’t help thinking of the animals that meet their fate there.

Those who are interested in learning more about the history of the fortress can discover additional details in the small exhibition room. Along the path, there is also information about special plants such as fig and olive trees that thrive here. I’ll keep this part deliberately brief, as the next section will focus primarily on the monk parakeets in Málaga.

By the way, Gibralfaro Castle and the Alcazaba are not directly connected. After visiting Gibralfaro Castle, I took a short walk and climbed a small hill near the castle. Once again, I was rewarded with beautiful views.

After that, I made my way down, as I wanted to visit the Alcazaba. While walking downhill, I suddenly heard the shrill calls of parrots—and shortly afterward, I spotted a monk parakeet nest! A truly unexpected moment.

I had the feeling that there was more than just one monk parakeet pair living there. Fascinated, I stood for a while, watching the monk parakeets in Málaga darting energetically among the branches. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my large bird photography lens with me, so I made a plan to return after visiting the Alcazaba to take better shots.

First, I said goodbye to the monk parakeets and headed toward the Alcazaba. It was already midday, and a long line had formed in front of the entrance. Should I really go in? Normally, I avoid crowded places, but I had already bought a ticket for the Alcazaba at Gibralfaro Castle. So I joined the line—with the advantage that having a pre-purchased ticket allowed me to bypass the waiting crowd.

I spent a bit less time at the Alcazaba, as I was eager to observe the monk parakeets in Málaga. I also planned to visit the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce, where you can supposedly spot many birds—so it was going to be a full day.

The Alcazaba is located at the foot of Gibralfaro Hill and dates back to the 11th century. It once served as a residence for Muslim rulers. As I walked through the complex, the path led me through several gates, courtyards, and gardens, and I noticed many small details that give the site its special charm.

After visiting the Alcazaba, I turned my attention to the monk parakeets and then made my way to the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce (more on that in the last section). In the evening, as the sun slowly set, I wandered through the city once more. Again and again, I stopped to admire the colorful building façades and the Alcazaba, glowing golden in the warm light. The cathedral also looked particularly beautiful in this gentle evening light. Here are a few photographic impressions of the city.

Another special feature of evenings in Málaga are the roosting trees of the starlings. At dusk, the birds gather in small flocks over the squares and finally settle closely together in the trees. Their loud chirping and rustling give the city a pleasant atmosphere alongside the traffic noise.

In the next section, I will share more about the monk parakeets in Málaga.

Monk parakeets in Málaga

If anything surprised me in Málaga, it was the many monk parakeets (Myiopsitta monachus). Even on the way to Gibralfaro Castle, countless birds were flying over my head. With their piercing calls, they made themselves unmistakably heard—you really couldn’t miss them. Lively and energetic, they traced their paths across the city.

However, monk parakeets were not completely unknown to me; I had already encountered them in large numbers in the Pantanal.

The monk parakeet originally comes from South America, but it has now spread far beyond its natural habitat. Today, it can be found in the USA as well as in Western and Southern Europe. I have even encountered several of these lively parrots in Barcelona.

A look at iNaturalist even shows that monk parakeets have now been spotted in the Canary Islands and on the African continent—so far in Ceuta and Melilla, which are politically part of Spain, as well as in Tangier (Morocco). In addition, there are numerous observations from Israel (as of December 28, 2025).

Apparently, monk parakeets are extremely adaptable parrots: they have even been spotted occasionally in Taiwan and Hong Kong. Some individuals also seem to have established themselves in Singapore. And that’s not all—even in Melbourne, Australia, monk parakeets have been observed. The information about their worldwide distribution comes from iNaturalist, which notes that their spread has mainly been facilitated by human influence.

As appealing as these colorful birds are to watch, they originally come from South America and could potentially compete with native species for resources in their new habitats. According to one study, more than 20,000 monk parakeets now live in eight European countries. Although the study dates from 2019, it shows that populations—especially around the Mediterranean—are growing exponentially. The researchers therefore advocate for closer monitoring of the spread of monk parakeets.

Nevertheless, even though monk parakeets are originally native to South America, I was already excited to be able to observe them in Málaga. After visiting Gibralfaro Castle and taking a short walk along a path around the castle—which also led me back down to where I had spotted a monk parakeet nest—I first returned to the hostel to get my camera with the lens (focal length: 150–600mm), hoping to capture some nice photos of the monk parakeets in Málaga (and after visiting the Alcazaba).

I was lucky. The monk parakeets were still there.

They were sitting comfortably on the branches, either sleeping or preening.

I couldn’t tell exactly how many there were. There were at least six monk parakeets. They were somewhat spread out. Every now and then, one would fly away or another would join.

One sat a little farther from the others, somewhat hidden behind a branch. On top of that, it was preening, so mostly I could only see its rear.

It looked in my direction. Was it watching me? Just as I was watching it?

Another monk parakeet seemed more focused on foraging. It was nibbling on some bark. By the way, the main diet of monk parakeets consists of seeds, leaf buds, and fruits.

From below, I could even see its tongue.

But the monk parakeet didn’t stay on the branch for long. It seemed to have found nothing. So it climbed up another branch. Climbing was also a way for monk parakeets to move through the tree.

Once it reached the top, it diligently continued searching for food. It was very enjoyable to watch.

Monk parakeets are especially recognizable by their plumage. While the upperparts are mostly green, the face and chest are whitish to grayish. Like most parrots, they have a long tail—and of course, monk parakeets also have this characteristic long parrot tail. The beak of a monk parakeet is rather light brown to pinkish.

The undersides of their wings are gray.

It’s important to note that males and females are similarly colored and are hardly distinguishable from the outside. Females are slightly smaller than males, but if you want to determine a monk parakeet’s sex with certainty, a DNA or blood test would be needed. Unless, of course, you have the opportunity to regularly observe a group of monk parakeets, in which case you might be able to infer their sex from their behavior.

As a layperson, however, you can only guess. Are these males and females? Or are they all females or all males?

Well, I can’t say.

I suspected that the two front birds were a pair. Monk parakeets are very social animals and live in sometimes large colonies. Yet pairs do form among them, which breed together.

I thought this might be a pair because one monk parakeet had gathered something to nibble on for the other. The other pulled the treat away and let it drop to the ground. Their interaction wasn’t over yet. One of the parrots still seemed to have something in its beak that it wanted to pass to the other monk parakeet.

Even among the other birds, peacefully preening, it was difficult to tell which were females and which were males.

Eventually, another monk parakeet settled comfortably above me. No other monk parakeet had ever come this close before.

It was a very special moment. Perhaps the monk parakeet didn’t see me as a threat.

It was quite active as well, nibbling here and there.

These were truly wonderful observations, because no bird seemed afraid of me.

I was already thinking about moving on, since I still planned to visit the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce.

However, as I thought about packing up, there seemed to be some movement in the group. A few of the monk parakeets left the trees and flew toward the nest.

Of course, that was exciting. I couldn’t just pack up…

The nest I saw had been built by the monk parakeets in a tree. There was also a palm nearby, where I watched the monk parakeets in Málaga flying back and forth.

It was especially wonderful to observe them gathering branches for their nests.

While some were building and searching for more branches, the others seemed to just watch.

When it comes to nest building, monk parakeets are quite special. Most parrots are cavity nesters—but not monk parakeets. They build large communal nests out of branches. These are often constructed in trees or palms, but also on cell towers or power poles. Each nest within the communal nest is occupied by a pair.

I watched the monk parakeets interacting around their nests for a while longer, but after some time I decided to leave. I still wanted to visit the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce, so I had quite a bit planned…

Other animals I observed near the monk parakeets in Málaga included a Eurasian collared dove (Streptopelia decaocto) and a red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris).

Otherwise, it was rather quiet on that sunny and warm October afternoon.

I then walked back toward the city center, where my rented bicycle was waiting. I had already rented a bike at that point, so after my visit I could ride directly to the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce.

Before I go into more detail about this special place in the next section, I want to share a bit more about the monk parakeets. On my way back from the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce toward the city center, I spotted a larger group of monk parakeets. At first, I only noticed a few scattered individuals…

…but gradually, more and more appeared.

I noticed them because of the loud, screeching calls of the monk parakeets.

They were clearly foraging, pecking around in the grass.

These monk parakeets in Málaga were, of course, also wary. I couldn’t get too close to them, but they weren’t so shy that I couldn’t take close-up shots, especially since I had my large lens with me.

This allowed me to get a better view of their dark brown irises and gray eye rings.

When the light hit their plumage, it shone especially beautifully. You could also clearly see the blue and black of the primary feathers. As mentioned earlier, the undersides of the wings are not green, but grayish.

They kept their gray feet hidden in the grass when they weren’t walking around. Occasionally, I could also see their long claws.

I had the feeling that there were more and more monk parakeets. While some continued foraging in the meadow, others stayed on the asphalt.

I stayed with the monk parakeets in the small meadow.

With so many monk parakeets around, disputes were inevitable. I watched one monk parakeet seemingly scolding another.

Others, meanwhile, remained peaceful with each other.

I naturally wondered what made this meadow so interesting for the monk parakeets in Málaga. A few of them perched in the small tree. But the tree was so tiny that only a few could fit.

Nearby, I saw some palm trees. Of course, these were an appealing spot for the parrots.

A few of the monk parakeets seemed to prefer moving on foot to the next palm tree.

After a while, I also left this group of monk parakeets. As lovely as it was to watch them, it was time to move on. In the next section, I will finally focus on the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce—a place south of Málaga, where many supposedly go for birdwatching.

One last look at the monk parakeets, and then I left.

Desembocadura del Guadalhorce

Even though Málaga was only the starting point of a longer journey for me, I still wanted to find out where to go birdwatching there. Soon, I came across the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce estuary. It is only a few kilometers from the city center and can be easily reached by bike.

A path leads directly from the center to the estuary, although the beginning is a bit tricky, as there isn’t a continuous bike path yet. Once you get past this section, you can cycle comfortably and without major obstacles all the way to the nature reserve.

Upon reaching the estuary, wide gravel paths guide you further into the interior of the area.

At first, there wasn’t much going on in terms of birdwatching. It was surprisingly quiet, which was probably also due to my less-than-ideal time of day. The best moments for observing birds are early in the morning or later in the evening, but I didn’t reach the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce until between 3 and 4 p.m.—so you can’t expect much activity at that time.

I stopped on a small bridge and let my gaze wander calmly over the landscape.

To my left stretched a beautiful natural landscape, while to my right ran the busy road back to the center of Málaga.

There are actually also pure hiking trails there, where no bicycle traffic is allowed—in contrast to the wide gravel paths. Unfortunately, these trails were closed, so I couldn’t follow them or look for birds there.

So I continued cycling until I finally reached the end of the estuary.

There, I spotted a monk parakeet walking along the beach. Unfortunately, I was a bit too slow with the camera to get a good shot.

Although it was already October, the day was warm. It’s hard to imagine that you could spot many birds in such heat. So why visit the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce in the afternoon? Organizational reasons had forced my hand: early in the morning, I didn’t yet have a bike, and in the evening I had to return it, as I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do so the next day.

Nevertheless, a small moment surprised me: a wildlife photographer set off toward the sea with his camera, apparently also in search of a special subject. At the end of the estuary, I was finally rewarded with a breathtaking view—the sea glowed a deep blue, perfectly complementing the warm day.

Monk parakeets are now so numerous in Málaga that I could even hear their screeching calls at the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce. However, I didn’t manage to get any of them in front of the camera. Instead, I spotted a little egret (Egretta garzetta), standing almost motionless in the water, seemingly patiently hunting for fish. Whether it was successful remains a mystery—soon, it took to the air again and disappeared.

Suddenly, high above me, I spotted a black bird in flight—it was a great cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo).

So there were still a few birds about. In the distance, I could see and hear a few starlings.

However, since I still had the return trip ahead and didn’t want to return my rented bike at the very last minute, I slowly made my way back toward the center of Málaga—who knows what else I might discover.

And indeed, it didn’t take long before my eyes fell on something unusual lying on a tree trunk: a pond slider (Trachemys scripta).

At first, only one turtle was lying on the tree trunk, while two others swam in the water. But soon, one of the two also climbed onto the trunk, while the other remained in the water—perhaps there was no more space.

According to iNaturalist, there are currently six different species of New World pond turtles (Emydidae) in the Málaga area. The most commonly observed is the pond slider—the same species I had seen. I have to admit, however, that I didn’t identify the species myself and relied on the help of others on iNaturalist.

After this little turtle observation, I took one last look over the landscape before making my way back to Málaga.

Practical information

How to get there

I traveled by plane and took bus A from the airport toward the city center. I paid €4.00 for the ticket—simple and quick. I got off at Avenida de Andalucía, as it allowed me to reach my accommodation conveniently from there.

Accommodation

I stayed in a hostel on Calle Alemania. The building was modern and very clean. From there, you can reach the historic city center as well as Gibralfaro Castle and the Alcazaba in just a few minutes. I paid €70.00 for two nights. Normally, I rarely stay in hostels, but this time I was intrigued by a new hostel that offered beds with a small sliding panel that could be pulled down to darken the bed area.

Bike rental

I rented a bike in the center of Málaga. The city is not exactly a bicycle metropolis, but I really wanted to get to the Desembocadura del Guadalhorce. Since I didn’t know how long I would be out, I opted for a daily rental and paid €19.00—a price I found quite high. If I had only stayed in the city center, I certainly wouldn’t have rented a bike for that amount.

More informationen

Have you ever seen monk parakeets in Málaga or elsewhere? What did you observe? Let us know in the comments.