boot hills and border towns
Oct. 15th, 2003 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jayCatching up... on Saturday morning we had a meeting to plan this week's drilling (and personnel pull-out). Afterwards, I called a hotel in Tarifa and made a booking, then departed for a 1.5 day jaunt alone across Spain, visiting Andalusian hill towns, Gibraltar, getting lost driving in Tarifa at night and taking a day-trip to Morocco.
My first stop was only 45 minutes away -- Valverde del Camino, a hill town famous for its handmade leather shoes and boots. I did some shopping... the most elaborate embroidered lizard-skin-inserted cowboy or riding boots were only 60 euros. Made here...
Proceeding along back roads -- some highways were only 1.5 lanes! As in this road, approaching Paterna.
Arcos was lovely, with its medieval streets and castle on high cliffs... but it was raining heavily. I drove onward another 2 hours to Gibraltar... it was a strange enclave, another border town. With a bit of a knife-edged Checkpoint Charlie feeling to it.
And I finally got to visit the UK! Well, in a sense ;-). I bought some digestive biscuits and Bovril. And saw a real 5-pound note... the experience was made complete by the upper-Rock attractions (the cable car, apes, siege tunnels) being closed due to a weekend strike ;-).
Before I left the Rock, I picked up my own piece of it at a road cut (limestone, not granite...). Thereby settling various insurance needs (giggle).
Then a night drive into Tarifa... and around. And around... the map in Rick Steve's guidebook was badly drawn. I finally called the hotel -- even then, it took me a half-hour longer to find it. The 11th-century former Moorish stable showed some keyhole arches, was luxurious and I was on the top floor (and had access to a roof-top verandah).
The next morning... a leisurely breakfast before going to the ferry. Chatting with the chief of security for the US Embassy in Nairobi and his wife, there on holiday themselves.
In Tangiers... it was a wave of strange new sights and sounds and smells. But people are similar... these boys playing marbles reminded me of my two youngest.
Women wore hoods and long robes, but still smiled. [Tourist women who wore things like halters and bared their midriffs were tolerated... but the groups of men lounging in twos and threes looked at them carnivorously, as though the women were streetwalkers. One nearby was groped by a passer-by and yelled.] Note the contrasts in this crowded market district (souk).
And there was poverty... houses might be spotless and gleaming inside, but the exteriors were often run-down and there could be garbage strewn on the mostly-unpaved side streets... it reminded me a bit of Russia. But in Tangiers, not all houses have running water:
as shown by this woman filling buckets at a municipal fountain.
After the return ferry to Tarifa, I drove back directly to Nerva (about 3 hours), arriving in time for dinner at 10pm. What a transition, again...
My first stop was only 45 minutes away -- Valverde del Camino, a hill town famous for its handmade leather shoes and boots. I did some shopping... the most elaborate embroidered lizard-skin-inserted cowboy or riding boots were only 60 euros. Made here...
Proceeding along back roads -- some highways were only 1.5 lanes! As in this road, approaching Paterna.
Arcos was lovely, with its medieval streets and castle on high cliffs... but it was raining heavily. I drove onward another 2 hours to Gibraltar... it was a strange enclave, another border town. With a bit of a knife-edged Checkpoint Charlie feeling to it.
And I finally got to visit the UK! Well, in a sense ;-). I bought some digestive biscuits and Bovril. And saw a real 5-pound note... the experience was made complete by the upper-Rock attractions (the cable car, apes, siege tunnels) being closed due to a weekend strike ;-).
Before I left the Rock, I picked up my own piece of it at a road cut (limestone, not granite...). Thereby settling various insurance needs (giggle).
Then a night drive into Tarifa... and around. And around... the map in Rick Steve's guidebook was badly drawn. I finally called the hotel -- even then, it took me a half-hour longer to find it. The 11th-century former Moorish stable showed some keyhole arches, was luxurious and I was on the top floor (and had access to a roof-top verandah).
The next morning... a leisurely breakfast before going to the ferry. Chatting with the chief of security for the US Embassy in Nairobi and his wife, there on holiday themselves.
In Tangiers... it was a wave of strange new sights and sounds and smells. But people are similar... these boys playing marbles reminded me of my two youngest.
Women wore hoods and long robes, but still smiled. [Tourist women who wore things like halters and bared their midriffs were tolerated... but the groups of men lounging in twos and threes looked at them carnivorously, as though the women were streetwalkers. One nearby was groped by a passer-by and yelled.] Note the contrasts in this crowded market district (souk).
And there was poverty... houses might be spotless and gleaming inside, but the exteriors were often run-down and there could be garbage strewn on the mostly-unpaved side streets... it reminded me a bit of Russia. But in Tangiers, not all houses have running water:
as shown by this woman filling buckets at a municipal fountain.
After the return ferry to Tarifa, I drove back directly to Nerva (about 3 hours), arriving in time for dinner at 10pm. What a transition, again...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-14 06:20 pm (UTC)