I knew that Tarifa was the kitesurfing capital of the world or something. But I had no idea just how windy it was going to be here. On Thursday I took a 3-hour bus ride from Seville to Tarifa and planned on taking a taxi to my hotel. No taxis to be found at the bus station. Ok, I guess I’m hoofing it. There was a map at the bus station, which I apparently read wrong. I was trudging along and half the streets aren’t labeled, so I didn’t know if I had missed my turn or what. Eventually I stopped into a kitesurfing store and asked for directions. The guy working was super nice but said there are 100’s of little streets and so no one can know them all. He told me that my hotel “Pension Correo” must be by the post office, though, because Correo means post office. I did remember that from Madrid. So he whipped out a map and he showed me where we were and where the post office was, which was on the street that my hotel was on. Perfect.
I made it just fine, directions-wise, but was quite literally soaked in sweat by the time I got there. Between the bag, hills, and fighting the wind (which you would think would cool me off. It didn’t.), I was a goner. I got checked in and immediately asked “donde esta la playa?” The lady was impressed with my Spanish after we struggled with her broken English, so she says, “oh, hablas Espanol?” And we both, at the same time, said, “un pequito.” She proceeded to respond to me in Spanish, but I understood enough to know it was a 10-minuite walk in *that* direction.
I quickly pulled out my suit and cover-up, grabbed a towel, and made my way to the beach. I was also dying of thirst at the time, so I stopped at the beach restaurant for a diet coke. I realized then just how windy it was and that this was not really conducive to laying out and having a proper beach day. So I walked around (nay, got blown around) for awhile taking pictures. The color of the water here is really magnificent and it’s really too bad that the conditions weren’t conducive to relaxing on the beach. I needed it.
Instead I came back to my room (which is awesome, by the way…very Mediterranean…it’s a pension with maybe 10-ish rooms? Mine is upstairs and the only one off of the rooftop garden. I have my own little front door and everything. I totally utilized the clotheslines that they use to hang sheets and towels on for the laundry I did) to change and get something to eat. Then I took a short nap because this place definitely takes its siesta time seriously. Everything was closed. After the nap and relaxing a bit, I found some dinner. A very low-key day!