Goodbye Tangier.
Saturday 2/3/13
I had a cunning plan. I booked the ferry from Tangier Med to Algeciras. The other option was from Tangier to Tarifa, which is known as the wind surfing capital of Spain. I hate wind, so, no thank you. My idea was a much better option.
It was about a forty kilometre ride to Tangier Med, and guess what. It was unbelievably windy. It was so windy, that my head was being blown around so much that my vision was blurred. I kid you not. To add to the excitement, we rode across two mountains on skinny little roads. It was like Morocco was giving me the finger after being so nice to me. At least when we're on the ferry we can relax.
After a clear run through customs and immigration we rode into the car park area and waited to board the ferry. I ran around trying to catch cats while Suzanne rested on the bike.
While we were in the car park we had an interesting chat with a couple of geological guys who had been in Fes. They have been searching for the remains of King Muhammad XII of Granada, and they think they have found him. This is big news. King Muhammad was the last Moorish ruler in Grenada and was exiled from Spain by Isabel and Ferdinand in 1492. History is so much more interesting when you are where it happened that when you are sitting in a class room. I told them how fantastic their discovery was and they said "No, if it's not about a football player, no one in Spain is interested." Oh well, I though it was something special. Well done guys.
Then it was time to board. I managed to ride on board without hitting anything this time, much to Suzanne's relief. Upstairs we found a comfy couple of lounge seats and dozed on and off for the trip. I thought it was pretty calm til I got up to go and get something to eat and realised I couldn't walk without hanging onto something. A look out one side of the ferry showed only sky, while the other showed mainly water and a little bit of sky. Hmm, that's not right. A look out the back explained why. Even while wallowing up and down over the swell, the boat was keeled over to one side, a long way. I'm glad Suzanne was asleep most of the way as she doesn't cope well with rough seas.
Once we were back on land we found our way back to Hostel Carlos 1 in La Linea and were welcomed back with a big, warm smile. Once we'd settled in we headed down to the little bar in town to catch up with Jesus, Peter, Steve, and Tony, but were very disappointed to find the bar is closed on Saturday and Sunday.
Oh well, back to the Argentinian steakhouse across the road from the hotel for a big feed and a few drinks. We had so much food that we took some home to have leftovers for breakfast.
It felt good to be "home" in Spain again.
I had a cunning plan. I booked the ferry from Tangier Med to Algeciras. The other option was from Tangier to Tarifa, which is known as the wind surfing capital of Spain. I hate wind, so, no thank you. My idea was a much better option.
It was about a forty kilometre ride to Tangier Med, and guess what. It was unbelievably windy. It was so windy, that my head was being blown around so much that my vision was blurred. I kid you not. To add to the excitement, we rode across two mountains on skinny little roads. It was like Morocco was giving me the finger after being so nice to me. At least when we're on the ferry we can relax.
This is one of only a few sharp photo from the morning.
Suzanne battled the wind to try and get a few pics.
The few glimpses I got of the scenery looked pretty good.
When we arrived at the dock we experienced something new. The truck on the left with "SMITHS" on it, drives along and x-rays all the vehicles. It covers the top and both sides. Once that's done, you get back in your vehicle, wait for the OK, then drive off.
I thought an x-ray of me sitting on the bike
would be a cool souvenir.
After a clear run through customs and immigration we rode into the car park area and waited to board the ferry. I ran around trying to catch cats while Suzanne rested on the bike.
While we were in the car park we had an interesting chat with a couple of geological guys who had been in Fes. They have been searching for the remains of King Muhammad XII of Granada, and they think they have found him. This is big news. King Muhammad was the last Moorish ruler in Grenada and was exiled from Spain by Isabel and Ferdinand in 1492. History is so much more interesting when you are where it happened that when you are sitting in a class room. I told them how fantastic their discovery was and they said "No, if it's not about a football player, no one in Spain is interested." Oh well, I though it was something special. Well done guys.
Then it was time to board. I managed to ride on board without hitting anything this time, much to Suzanne's relief. Upstairs we found a comfy couple of lounge seats and dozed on and off for the trip. I thought it was pretty calm til I got up to go and get something to eat and realised I couldn't walk without hanging onto something. A look out one side of the ferry showed only sky, while the other showed mainly water and a little bit of sky. Hmm, that's not right. A look out the back explained why. Even while wallowing up and down over the swell, the boat was keeled over to one side, a long way. I'm glad Suzanne was asleep most of the way as she doesn't cope well with rough seas.
Once we were back on land we found our way back to Hostel Carlos 1 in La Linea and were welcomed back with a big, warm smile. Once we'd settled in we headed down to the little bar in town to catch up with Jesus, Peter, Steve, and Tony, but were very disappointed to find the bar is closed on Saturday and Sunday.
Oh well, back to the Argentinian steakhouse across the road from the hotel for a big feed and a few drinks. We had so much food that we took some home to have leftovers for breakfast.
It felt good to be "home" in Spain again.
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