Spain was, in short, glorious.
After a morning of Arabic (I was the only one who had class Friday which made it even lamer) and a four-hour, sweaty bus ride to Tangiers (a place that would merit its own weekend excursion, actually), we got a taxi to the port and took a ferry across to Tarifa. The orginal plan was to continue on to a city called Algeceiras but by that time it was 8:45 and the last bus to Algecerias was leaving at 9. (There is a weird time zone change from Morocco to Spain).
So, throwing out the idea of Algeciras, we asked the people working in the cafe for a hotel (not hostel) recommendation and they gave us some directions. Upon arriving we found the hotel clean and adorable. And only 100 Euro for all three of us for two nights! I’m not sure if that’s a good rate but sounded reasonable to me–a little over 15, each, per night. After putting our stuff down (I love that I packed the lightest out of us three–even lighter than the guy in our group) we went out and got dinner in a cafe. Brynn and Pete took every opportunity to drink something alcoholic–drinking in public (even at a cafe) is severely looked down on in Morocco. Those two sure can put it away.
The next day we slept in until “ten” (really nine, Morocco time) and went to the beach until around one or two. I had to buy a towel since I completely forgot to bring one with me… across the Atlantic… at all! Haha. Now I have a cheapo towel to remember Spain by. Its pretty at least. I was very careful not to get sun burned and it was delightful. Even though its seperated from Morocco by only a little bit of water (one could actually see Morocco from the beach) it was so much less humid and several degrees cooler. When we’d had enough sun we went back to town to do some shopping but realized that all the stores were totally closed until like 5pm for the siesta. So that was a bust. We went back to the hotel and napped. After our nap we ate at a pretty nice restaurant, then did some window shopping and finished up the evening with dinner.
Since we were in Spain but we weren’t really going to any historic sites or anything we took the opportunity to delight our tastebuds in hyped Spanish foods–namely, tapas and paella. First off, tapas. OVERRATED. Don’t bother. They give you what looks like potato salad and put it on bread and expect that to be your meal. First off they totally skimped on the bread so half of our tapas went uneaten. Secondly, the stuff we chose didn’t really taste that good. After the disappointement of the tapas, we were delighted when the paella was brought out and it was ~delectable~ even though it contained all manner of questionable seafood. Steering clear of anything that wasn’t chicken, fish, or those small shrimp I’ve had before, I scarfed my portion of paella in no time. I am determined to learn how to cook it when I get home.
The weekend ended far too quickly. Being in Europe reminded me what its like to eat with a knife and fork, and how lovely it is when people follow traffic laws.
Other notable moments included a crazy Spanish bachelorette party at a club we went to, Pete being convinced the flamenco dancer outside the restaurant we ate at was a tranny, and wearing a tank top the entire time I was there.