Homesickness, Tarifa and Where I Was When History Was Made

It's snowing in Milan and I am reminded of home. I know that this weekend my friends and family are gathering all over the United States, celebrating and giving thanks, enjoying peace, prosperity and the company of one another. I guess you could say I'm a bit homesick. 

But since I cannot be with you all just yet, perhaps I should redouble my efforts to inform you of my whereabouts and things I have recently seen and done. As I recall, last you heard it was Tuesday, November 4th, and I was in Spain, traveling by bus from Sevilla to Tarifa. Let us pick up where we left off, and although my account of each day will be slightly less detailed, I can hopefully express the highlights of each city that I have yet to describe to you.

Tarifa was the wild card city of our two week excursion. We had initially intended on heading to Marakesh, Morocco, but found the expense slightly unjustifiable, so instead picked another destination. I had heard from a Canadian friend that any trip to Spain is incomplete without stopping in Tarifa, the southernmost point of continental Europe, a stones throw away from Africa which is visible from the beach. It also happens to be the kite-surfing capital of the world, though I assume most of the world is unaware of what exactly kite-surfing is.

We arrived in the afternoon at the bus stop, which was more like a parking lot with a bench, adjacent to a gas station. Clearly this was not in the same league as the previous metropolises we had experienced, such as Madrid, Dublin and London. But, having traveled for over a week and a half (Anthony still going on the same set of clothes), we were in the mood for something low key. We found the city fairly vacant, and walking down the main street, realized that nearly the entire city revolved around the sport of kite-surfing. Billabong, Quiksilver and numerous other "bro"-related shops stretched as far as the eye could see. Billboards of surfers suspended 10 feet in the air above the water, signs advertising "Kite School", colorful graffiti reminiscent of Venice Beach (which I've only seen from video games). It was quite a unique place and I'm sure that from the months of April - September is bustling with active extreme athletes.

We really didn't do that much in Tarifa. We had considered trying kite-surfing, but we arrived late in the day, were leaving early the next morning, and it was cloudy, so decided to simply observe it instead. Walking around that day, we found ourselves at the beach, gazing across the water to an African horizon (green, not like the one from Lion King). We also saw a few kite-surfers, enduring the sub-par conditions, attempting to catch some air.

So what exactly is kite-surfing? Well, imagine a person with their feet strapped into a wake board with a harness around their body and legs. This harness is attached to wires that extend around 30 - 50 feet in the air (I'm not that good at estimating). These wires are attached to an enormous parachute-esque kite, that catches the air, and pulls them along the water. The surfer has some control over the movement of the kite, so must manipulate this, as well as pay attention to the water, which they are skimming along. It is really kind of neat, but doesn't look like much fun for beginners. We saw only 3 or 4 people doing it, which was probably the highlight of the day. 

We also ate at an authentic, Tarifa, chinese restaurant, watched authentic, Tarifa, Showtime programming via our computer, and relaxed at our hostel. It was a very chill day.

As you might remember, November 4th was the day of the U.S. Election, and as a big fan, I was sporting my Obama shirt that day. However, in a nation 7 hours ahead of U.S. central time, I knew election results wouldn't be available until the next day. So, I went to bed in Tarifa hoping for news of a democratic president in the morning. 

That night, I literally had a dream that in an odd turn of events, John McCain won the presidency with Joe Biden as his Vice President because Exxon Mobil had somehow swindled the middle class. I'm serious. Talk about political anxiety. I woke up desperate for poll results and turned on my computer. Problem - my hostel had turned off the wireless internet connection for the night. I would have to wait until I arrived in Granada, which was hours away. Nooooooooooo!!!!!

Disappointed, we walked in the dark to the bench stop for a 6:30 AM bus. We got there with plenty of time to spare, around 6:00 AM Tarifa time. I was moping about the lack of internet, so Anthony made a bold suggestion, "Why don't you see if you get any internet here?" Despite my desire to see the election results, I very quickly disagreed, "Anthony, there is no way we are going to get internet in this po-dunk location - we are surrounded by a gas station, empty kite-surfing shops and the sea. There is no possible way I get internet out here." Still, I turned on my Mac, and lo and behold, Tarifa Wireless was coming in with a strong signal. Frantically, I got onto the web and went to nytimes.com - the results were in - a strong Obama victory. I think that high fives were heard in Africa, emanating from across the water. Miraculously, we had tuned in only a few minutes after the start of Barack's Grant Park victory speech - we streamed nearly the entire thing. I usually hate being up before the sun, but on that day, well, I enjoyed it very much.