Calle Segismundo Moret, Tarifa, Spain. December 2019
Misiana Hotel and Restaurant, Tarifa, Spain. December 2019
The end of Europe
The rain in Algeciras {see: Algeciras} continued overhead on the bus ride south to little Tarifa. Luckily, on my short walk to the city center from the bus stop it let up enough so that I wasn't soaked on arrival at the hotel. Tarifa is famous for wind and kite surfing in the summer. It is also a big whale watching center. I was there for neither - it was December. Tarifa is also the closest point to Africa and just a short ferry ride across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco. Even in bad weather, the African coast is usually visible across the water.
Tarifa is small. Not much more than its medieval walled city center and some buildings that line the roads leading to it, the place is not designed for mass-tourism like Malaga or Marbella. The old city center was all decked out for Christmas and at night the lights reflected beautifully off the wet cobble-stoned streets. Plenty of small places to eat were still open even in the off season. My hotel was small and cozy. I think I could have spent a great deal of time in Tarifa just relaxing no matter what season I visited. Unfortunately, a pall hung over the city regarding my onward travel - the bad weather had stopped all the ferries across the Strait. {See: Crossing the Strait of Gibraltar}
The receptionist at the hotel assured me such stoppages were frequent and never lasted for more than a few days. Unfortunately, I had a hotel booked in Tangier in a couple of days and I didn't want to end up paying for that hotel AND paying again for extra time in Tarifa no matter how much I liked it. I usually build in "transit time" on trips for just such events, but it never occurred to me that bad weather might stop the boats from crossing to Morocco. Shit.
With two nights there and nothing I could do to change the situation, I made the best of it. I explored the town, the walls, the little castle, and the beach. The wind-driven rain came down on and off, so the touristing had to be interrupted by coffees or glasses of wine (as per photo). I was on vacation, after all - vacations are for enjoyment, not worry! Nothing in Tarifa was "better" than similar places I'd visited in Spain, but that didn't mean it wasn't pleasant to stroll around. I went down to the port, filled with stuck Moroccans and small truck drivers waiting for the ferry as well. No tickets were on sale yet, but the situation could change "at any time". I decided to walk down along water's edge to a causeway that led to a small island. Isla de las Palomas is the southernmost point in Europe, but it is military and off limits. The causeway leading to it, however, is quite touristic and has a rough beach on each side. To the right, the Atlantic Ocean and to the left, the Mediterranean Sea (there were even signs!) The wind blew coldly which added to the "end of the continent" feel. The Atlantic side was turbulent and the Mediterranean side, calm. A moving memorial to those who drowned trying to cross the strait leaving small children behind to face the world parentless had been recently erected in the wake of the recent surge of migrant crossings. Now I had been to both the westernmost point of Europe in Portugal and the southernmost in Spain, both by accident.
The strangest stand-out in Tarifa for me was the lack of Moroccan restaurants or shops. Algeciras was filled with Moroccan restaurants and products. Signs in Arabic and Berber were scattered throughout the city. It made sense because that port is one of the main links between Africa and Europe. Tarifa, on the other hand, had virtually no Moroccan references at all. It felt like the place was telling travelers: "This is Spain. We DO have the boat to Tangier, so if Moroccan things are on your list, just get on the boat and get them over there!!" It may also be the case that no one is going to pay "expensive" Spanish prices for things they know, less than an hour away, are a fraction of the cost. I was OK drinking my last glasses of vino tinto in Tarifa. I would have all the Moroccan food I wanted soon enough (I hoped).
I tried to imagine what living in Tarifa might be like. A quaint, ancient Spanish town on the sea with a couple of excellent beaches AND daily speedboats to "oh so exotic" Morocco. Not bad, I thought, not bad at all. Luckily, the weather calmed enough for the boats to start running again and I left on the first available boat the day I had planned. Tarifa, however, stuck in my mind because even if I had seen dozens of similar small cities in Spain in the years previous, it still checked a lot of boxes for me. If I ever decided to take a vacation and "stay put", I think Tarifa might be high on my list.