Days five and six - Puerto de Santa Maria and Tarifa

I just moved down the coast to Tarifa which was an interesting bus trip passing some quite stark hills. Finding the bust stop was the main issue of the day really. It was like the bus didn´t exist for a while. The shelters had long lists of services except the one I wanted and the locals had varied opinions on where the best place to wait was. In the end we narrowed it down and got it right - a kind of group wisdom prevailed where a sign may have sufficed. To be honest though that is the kind of thing I like about travelling, in hindsight, although at the time it is a pain in the neck.

Had a chilled out day yesterday going over to Cadiz just for the boat trip and letting the mind float away with the seabirds. Actually there are lots of birds but if only I could name them, which sadly I can´t. After the boat trip I went out to the dunes and had a relaxing afternoon drifting among the pines. These pines though are not like English ones - their needles are concentrating towards the top of the tree whose branches cluster together in more of a bunch than our angular Christmas tree models.

In the evening I went out to find a meeting that almost didn´t exist either. Well, its location wasn´t on the internet (this is not yet an a priori condition of actual material existence). The taxi driver looked a bit dazed but light bulbs lit and he drove me out to a church with no markings at all on the outside - it looked a bit like a World War II garden bunker, only bigger. Inside were four friends of Bill W including an old guy called Alvaro (ironically sharing the name of my good friend now stranded in England). This meeting was a chaotic affair largely consisting of their asking me questions in Spanish which through force of will and paraphrase I was able to comprehend parts from time to time. It w asn´t a scintilating demonstration of language ability but it was quite a display of good will on their part. After the meeting Alvaro took me for a coffee and told me how much he had suffered in his life. A quite sad moment from a nearly broken man.

Later I took a cup of tea out to see the Santa Semana float for Monday and this time the Nazarenos were dressed in black and looking quite menacing I must say. Some of the ladies crossed themselves when the float carrying Mary passed by. Again, I wasn´t sure if they felt the figure itself had some kind of power or significance other than as a material representation. If I had to guess I´d say it looked like they believed it to be more than a statue.

Well, I am in Tarifa now, in a house in the old town with a lovely roof terrace, a thin TV (what do you call them?) and lots of space and clean air. Other than myself the house is currently empty but other could arrive. But for the time being it my personal palace. I feel quite guilty about this but I slowly accepting thes situation. This is clearly a good problem to have. Hey, guess what? I can see Morrocco from the roof! That´s not something you can say everyday.

This is the base for the next few days from where to get to Morrocco for the day, visit Gibraltar and and generally explore the are