If anyone has read The Alchemist then you’ll understand my excitement as I made my way down to Tarifa, then over the Strait of Gibraltar into Tangier.  If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you will still love the southern tip of Spain, but go get the book and give it a quick read, trust me.  Well, enough of that so let’s move on and get to my journey down south, deep, deep south… then really north, all in one day.

I departed from Sevilla on a Saturday afternoon on a short train ride to Cadiz, a small city along the coast en route to Tarifa.  With only an hour layover until my bus ride, I didn’t have a ton of time to wander the town, but I would get my chance upon my return.  Take a peek at some of the photos to savor this delicious treat.

Continuing south, the final destination was a short hour and 45 minute bus ride from Cadiz.

I had arrived at Tarifa, a kite surfing capital and gateway to Africa.  When I say the town is rather small, I really mean the town is small.  One main street connects you to almost everything, including the long stretch of beach that overlooks the Atlantic.  Turn to your left on the beach and you can throw a rock into the Mediterranean, pretty cool.

With an afternoon to kill, I walked around town hastily to see all that I could in order to make it to the beach and spend as much time there as possible.  It may have been the best day of my trip thus far.  I collected shells along the shore then witnessed one of the most incredible sunsets I have ever seen, euphoric in nature.  It was as if for one split second everything seemed to just… fit, melt together, synergistic in nature.  All the questions I had been asking myself: had I made the right decision to leave so much that I loved behind and pursue this adventure?  Was it worth the money?  After the joyous and tear provoking moment my answer was an emphatic YES.  I don’t have all the words in my vocabulary to describe it the way I would like to, I only hope that what I have delivered thus far paints a vivid image and begins to stir up memories of similar experiences that you’ve encountered in your life.

The following day was another sensory overload, yet in a completely different manner.  I boarded the FRS High Speed Ferry (that’s right, high speed ferry) from Tarifa to Tangier, Morocco. I was entering a new continent!  Taking only 35 minutes, you can’t beat the efficiency, but you could hope for a lower price than 66 euro. No problem, I couldn’t put a price on the shock in which I was about to receive.

You would think that since I’ve been traveling for some time now that I would be used to seeing new cultures and hearing different languages, but landing in Morocco was a whole new bag of tricks.  The moment you step off the boat (looking like a tourist of course) you are hassled for tours, food, money, and cheap novelty items.   I tried my best to blend in, carried no camera case or extra luggage, and even wore by usual hobo drifting attire, but you can’t hide the pale white skin and glowing red beard.

At first, I stuck to the coastline, cautious to stray away from the tourist regions.  After a short time I mustered the courage to begin my explorations into the depths of the city.  I had to really see what was hiding behind the plush hotels that flooded the beach front.  A quick stop into a Ramada provided me with a shitty map, but a map none the less.  Ah yes, a mosque, let’s get my bearings and head for it.

At first, my guard was on high alert, unaware if the locals would consider me a threat or a target, or merely look past me.  Well they surely didn’t look past me, but most of the looks I received were more of intrigue or interest than hostility (emphasis on most of).  I passed multiple construction sites, all of which were wide open to the public and not well maintained by any standards.  I even crossed a junkyard cat, who gave me a funny look with the one eye he had left, so I proceeded to kick it… not really, but I glared back.

I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable, allowing me to soak in more of the surroundings instead of being on threat level orange the entire time.  Perfect timing, as I wandered up a hill and into an open air market.  This time I was ready for the haggling that was about to ensue, and bartered with a man for an 8 Durham apple (about 80 cents).  Looking back, it was a horrible deal on my part.  That’s ok, I got my apple and ate it too.  I was bartered out and ready to hit the beach for a little before I headed back to the comfort of the EU and Spain.

I was hesitant at first to break the bank for the second time this trip, but I weighed my options… spend about $100 to travel to another country and continent while visiting Spain, having an unforgettable experience, or save myself the amount of money I would have earned in about one day of work when I got home?  That’s an easy one in my book.  Sometimes you just have to evaluate what possesses more value to you in this life; a small piece of paper with the portrait of a dead mans face on it, or a story you can share for the rest of your life.

It makes no difference to me what you choose, just be happy with your decision.