Time to breathe...
Algeciras Travel Blog› entry 19 of 37 › view all entries
The ferry from Tanger across to Algeciras was as crowded as the bus and the train had been as we traveled on land in Marocco. We couldn't get any sleep due to the constant movement of the passengers past us.
Our trip sitting outside the smelly train toilet seemed to hang about me. I longed for our compfortable hotel room back in Algeciras where I could shower the dirt and smell away.
After what seemed like several more hours we arrived at the Spanish port. We weren't as quick to disembark as the the african travelers so when we got to the immigration hall we had a very long queue ahead of us. Darryn noticed a sign inviting UK & European passport holders to jump to the fast lane. I only had a NZ passport but he was half way up there when he told me to hurry up. I hadn't even got my passport out of my pocket as they waved us through -bliss!
Unfortunately as we celebrated the swift negotiation of that hurdle I saw the customs staff standing at a bench near the exit. I said to Darryn, "If I were those guys I'd search me."
He walk straight past them withouthesitation. I thought I was right there with him when the last guys tapped my shoulder and motioned me to put my pack on the bench. I complied and unlocked the padlocks so he could search it. Darryn came stomping back in the exit and cursed at this further delay.
The guard stuck his hand into my pack as I whipped out my Police ID card and showed him. He pulled out a pair of my socks, squeezed them, put them back, and sent us on our way. We were pleased at this co-operation but Darryn thought it was more a stroke of good luck that the guard hadn't pulled out his gun and locked me up.
Back at the motel we'd left barely 48 hours before we hit the shower and crashed out. A couple of hours later I took the opportunity to telephone the Gilraltar police to see if they'd discovered my bag full of books.
No such luck. I'd be heading home without them after all.