Tarifa Travel Blog› entry 9 of 80 › view all entries
Wait a minute, was I really seeing this? Were they really that close? The surfers and kite surfers having a field day on the beach seemed oblivious to it. Yet I could see it or at least the faint outline of it…
Once the bus pulled into the Tarifa bus stand, I checked into one of the local backpackers since I was not able to find a host for the night in this Spanish frontier town. One and half month into my travels since leaving Australia, this was the very first night I was paying for accommodation, partly cause I did not look too hard for a host and also because I wanted to catch up on some much needed blogging, some privacy and some sleep. Little of that eventuated following the conversation with a German bloke whose wife recently divorced him; the cutting-edge real life story of which proved to be way more beefy than the meat on my plate in the local eatery.
The next day I explored Tarifa town on some of its cobbled streets and indulged in the very reason I chose to make Tarifa one of my pit stops along my journey. I was already beginning to see signs of it in the form of Moorish designs on the inner walls of my hostel as well as some of the building structures here. I then went to the very edge, the cutting edge of continental Europe!!!
In the distance as if mysteriously, I could see huge ships plying the strait. I had a moment as I could now clearly see the mountains of Africa on the other side. There in the distance shimmering away is the majestic world of Morocco with its sights and sounds especially that of the Islamic call to pray over their cities: a very different culture, a different religion and a different continent with all that goes with it and one, that I was heading to very soon.
With that I did the Aussie thing of pissing into the waters connecting the continents.