Trek to Spain

My recent trek to Spain was a success! A bit long maybe, but quite a learning experience. It was my first time to go from here by train, then by boat. The country side was amazing! Filled with rolling green hills, and farm land pieced together like a patchwork quilt, lots of hay being cut, bailed, and hauled by men and donkey. I even saw the occasional John Deere Tractor. William, my nephew happens to adore John Deere.

On Friday, over a week ago now, I left from my language class a bit early to make the noon train. So off I was, knowing that I had to change trains somewhere in the middle. I found a spot to sit next to some nice Mor. guys who had been traveling for days actually. They helped me to know when I needed to change trains. This part of the trek by train was around 6-7 hours long. I had a great book to keep me entertained called, 'The Kite Runner', the best historical fiction (I think that's what its called) I've ever read...howbeit the first as well. Its the story of an Afghan boy growing up into a man amidst the turmoil of Afghanistan. This book is not for the light of heart, nor for you kiddies. But it gave me a glimpse into the past of country I would not have thought COULD have existed after spending a summer there. I was able to read it in 3 sittings. And let me tell you, I was doing ALOT of sitting that day.

So I finally arrived at the port city of Tangier, in the north from which I would take a ferry across into Spain. I had already arranged to stay at a guest house there in Spain. The people who ran the guest house were even nice enough to say they would wait up for me until I got there. I was expecting to get there around 10ish in the evening. Once I arrive in Tangier, I rush to find a taxi because I was hoping to catch one of the last 'ferry rapide' which only takes a little over an hour to get to Spain. So I grab a taxi, he charged me double the usual, mainly cuz they sit there a wait all day for people like me. But I didn't mind, it was well worth the extra dollar to catch this ferry. The taxi driver was even nice enough to show me where to buy tickets for the ferry.

This was my first time doing this. I had come into this port several times, but I had never left from it. So I rush over to the first little ticket counter that said 'rapide' on it and asked for a ticket to Algeciras, Spain. He said there were no more until the next day. My jaw dropped, literally. I asked him if was certain. He said he was. I guess the Friday schedule was different than any other day. My mind instantly went through the ramifications of not getting across to Spain today. My brain was about to go into melt down when I asked one final time if there were any ferries going to Algeciras. He said, "there is the slow ferry. it leaves soon." PTL! A ferry, my face was dancing with delight! I rushed to the other counter where they were selling the slow ferry tickets. The people behind the counter weren't too concerned with me. I was supposing the ferry wasn't leaving that second (nor that minute, not even that hour). But I did find a ticket, found my way to the customs and waited, and waited and waited. It seemed they are poorly staffed on Fridays, not a huge surprise. There was one person trying to process at least a hundred of us. It was even a bit more deceptive because there appeared to be 4 lines from the rear. Once you picked one and started moving forward inch by inch, you realized that there was really only one line and they all merged together. So then the battle ensued. But with the right attitude of 'We are all getting on' I survived the line. I met a frazzled american guy (who oddly enough works on the set of the O.C., that famous tv show) who had spent a day in morocco and had his fill of Africa. But after a few encouraging words, he seemed to settle down and realized he was going to make it out of Africa alive. Then I realized that most of the people in the line had tickets to a different city in Spain. So I asked one of the workers there at the port and sure enough, I was at the wrong Platform/Dock. So with a little bit of jogging through vast parking lots, dodging construction and buses, I make it to the other platform.

Now these boats are HUGE to say the least. The belly of the boat is filled with cars, semi trucks, and containers for shipping. This being the first entrance I see, I get a guy to help be navigate through the belly to some stairs and find my way to the restaurant.

By this time, it was around 9ish. I had eaten breakfast 14 hours before, and had not time to get anything on the way (and not trusting the food that was available on the train). I knew there would be food on the boat. Wonderful, delicious, hot food….. If you have Euros that is....which I didn't. I didn't think of needing euros until I had arrived into Spain! ARG! So I went hungry for a few more hours. I did snack on some walnuts I had brought, but you can't make a meal out of walnuts, but it did take the edge off. So about 3 hours later I arrive in Spain. I needed to take a taxi, they only take Euros as well. So I had to find a bank, fortunately 'bank' is a fairly universal word. I was pointed to an ATM, finally got some euros and was headed toward the guest house!

Now Spain, I had failed to realize is 2 hours ahead of Mor. So it was 12 to me, but to my friends running the guest house, it was 2am. They were, indeed, still awake! I was able to fix a ham sandwich before I crashed! I was joining the folks running the guesthouse on a little tour of two cities on Saturday. I was so glad it worked out for me to go with them. Spain is much easier to navigate, when I am not the one navigating:) So we saw the beautiful rocky landscape of Andalusia. We passed by the city of Sidonia, famous for NOT giving Columbus the money he needed to sail for the New World.

We visited Arcos. Beautiful city known for its white washed buildings (really the whole region has white washed buildings) built atop cliffs, cobbled streets, and churches built atop old Arab buildings. We then went on to Ronda. Ronda was one of the last cities to fall to the Moors due to its cliff dwelling place. It also has the white washed houses. It also has a famous 'new' bridge built in the 1800s. On Sunday, I started the 12 hour journey back to Mor. Without a hitch.