Very interesting journey today. The only thing we knew for certain today was that we were flying to Malaga on the Costa del Sol in the south of Spain. On the flight we surveyed the options for getting around and decided to rent a car. Great decision! Once in the airport Tom consulted the reluctantly helpful tourist agent (she was forbidden to say too much about each town, call hotels, etc. for favoritism). After coercing her a bit she told Tom that Tarifa was a nice place to visit and has a nice beach. She was exactly half right. Tarifa is much closer to a run down Mexican town than a Spanish town, especially when compared to Barcelona. We stayed only long enough to find a hotel, eat spaghetti-o’s (really, the spaghetti Bolognese tasted exactly like spaghetti-o’s), walk along the pretty, but too windy and too unappealing when looking back towards town beach, cancel our hotel and leave two hours later. The only picture I got was on our way out of town high on a point towards Africa (at least we saw it).
We arrived in Gibraltar and were immediately refreshed by an English speaking community. It is nice not to waste valuable brain cells (better off killed by beer and wine) trying to understand another language. There are very little accommodations here but we did find a barebones, shared bathroom in the middle of town for only 42 pounds. Good enough for 2 nights.
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