Ze Vind... She Blows!

Spent yesterday morning on the beach. But it wasn't quite as you are no doubt imagining, warm sun, gentle splashing waves, and general beachy relaxing. Due to the aforementioned wind in Tarifa the beach was virtually deserted and being a 10km beach, this means Empty with a captial E. The wind was so strong it whipped the soft cream coloured sand into streamers and sent them hurtling towards the water. Imagine foot wide epileptic snakes made out of sand and you get the general picture. (It also meant that anything bigger than a pebble also found itself aggressively urged towards the ocean... like say... me!) When the wind really started to give it a go the sand felt like thousands of tiny daggers stabbing at your skin. Sort of like an over enthusiastic scrub at a spa. And left long enough the sand would do it's darndest to obliterate any belongings left unattended on the dunes. Like say... my flip-flops which were nearly lost forever.

Still haven't figured out why the people in Tarifa are not completely bat shit crazy due to the constant wind. But I suppose it goes some way to explain the plethora of bars and watering holes found around the city.

Today is logistics day. Get laundry done. Buy one-way (!) ferry ticket to Morocco. Take out money to turn into Dirhams and pay the lovely travel tour leader in Casablanca. Figure out how the hell to get to Casablanca. Etc etc, the list goes on.

Still hasn't totally dawned on me that today is my last day in Spain. Hell! It's my last day in Continental Europe, let alone Spain! Because tomorrow I head to Africa. AFRICA!!! Bloody hell...