Change In Plans

This very short post is about leaving Spain for Morocco.

This morning we packed, had breakfast, and checked out of the hotel. Overall, we really liked Tarifa and we liked the Posada La Sacristia, where we stayed the last two nights.

Our heavily laden little caravan rushed through the narrow streets of the old city, making for the ferry terminal. We desperately need to shed more stuff, like 40% of what we have.

Like every other ticketing/boarding experience we had in Spain, that process was quick and efficient. We waited in long lines at security and passport control, walked across the dock, boarded the fast ferry.

80% of the passengers on the ferry appear to be Europeans on package day trips. Tangier appears to be the Tijuana of Africa. We stood out with our heavy baggage and with our kids. Once on board, everyone got into another long line for Moroccan immigration.

The ferry left about 10 minutes late, which was literally the only thing we found in Spain that did not leave exactly on time.

The ferry flies a Moroccan flag, and on board there is a mosque. The direction to Mecca must be fixed with a compass, but I couldn’t see it. The Diet Coke label is in Arabic, and the can has a pull tab (how retro). Not in Kansas anymore.

That said, the kids are eating Pringles, and staring at a Tom & Jerry cartoon on the lounge TV. They are happy and comfortable.

We will be in Morocco in another 20 minutes, then we have a long drive down to Fes. The real adventure starts.

This very short post is about Tarifa, where we are spending our last two days in Europe. Tarifa is the southernmost town in Spain. On Wednesday we will take a ferry across the Straits of Gibraltar to Morocco.

Although Tarifa is part of the EU, it is hard to think of it as being in the same ‘country’ as Stockholm and Frankfurt, and the well-scrubbed towns of France and the Netherlands.

The sunlight, the architecture, the smells, and the generally relaxed and run-down atmosphere all seem like Morocco. We are staying in a small hotel within the crubling old city walls, on a street which is eight feet wide. The nearest cross street is “Almedina.” All of the buildings are stucco and tile, with open courtyards, and Moorish decor.

Morocco is visible across the water. The big differences appear to be religion (a few Catholic churches, no mosques, no call to prayer, and no green doors in Tarifa), a lot of liquor being served, and Spanish being spoken instead of Arabic or French.

There is a statue down by the water to King Sancho IV (The Brave), who, it appears, chased out the Moors in 1292. It seems that their influence lasted. This is a good transition place before we leave Spain.