(no subject)
3.20
We wake up at 6 am and eat omelets. At 7 a bus begins the drive to Tarifa. Towards the end of the drive the bus opts for winding off-roads and by the time we reach the port my stomach is in my throat. We board the 'fast ferry' and I try to concentrate on the horizon. Eventually, I lose it and throw up into the lunch bag from the previous day. It makes a horrible mess and in the search for a more appropriate place to vomit, I don't move. He returns with a bag and I throw up again and am told that the other passengers look just like me. Immediately after the 35 minute ride we board a bus and proceed to drive through the steep and winding hills of Tangier. I break into a sweat, I shiver, I throw up twice more and hardly see the ocean, the French and Spanish districts, old town, etc. We stop at the Cave of Hercules and I hold my weight on a solid stone while watching waves splash below. I don't remember the rest of the ride except that the views were spectacular. We eat lunch in a tent while people smile, dance, and sing around us. To our left is a couple from south London who talk politics. To our right is a family from San Diego who talk about money, or Madrid, or swimming, I'm not sure. I just eat the bread.
From here we go to the old town. We slip through narrow alleys and backways and it pours cold rain. There are so many scents we can't concentrate. Stray cats follow our crooked line as we try to stay under dripping overhangs and entryways. We are led to a warehouse of carpets, scarves, jewelry, and lanterns. We go on to an herbalist who sells us black cumin for headaches and orange blossom for sweet dreams. We walk up and down each connecting street before drinking the best orange juice ever squeezed. The return boat takes hours to unload. I feel better but nervously wait just-in-case. The ride is smooth and restful. The bus returns us through hills of wind turbines. Everything is beautiful, expansive.
When we get back we go to the restaurant on the hill where all of the horses are sleeping. Inside, children are taking the orders of other children. One bikes in circles on a miniature bicycle. We order seafood, go home, watch the Discovery Channel, and sleep.
We wake up at 6 am and eat omelets. At 7 a bus begins the drive to Tarifa. Towards the end of the drive the bus opts for winding off-roads and by the time we reach the port my stomach is in my throat. We board the 'fast ferry' and I try to concentrate on the horizon. Eventually, I lose it and throw up into the lunch bag from the previous day. It makes a horrible mess and in the search for a more appropriate place to vomit, I don't move. He returns with a bag and I throw up again and am told that the other passengers look just like me. Immediately after the 35 minute ride we board a bus and proceed to drive through the steep and winding hills of Tangier. I break into a sweat, I shiver, I throw up twice more and hardly see the ocean, the French and Spanish districts, old town, etc. We stop at the Cave of Hercules and I hold my weight on a solid stone while watching waves splash below. I don't remember the rest of the ride except that the views were spectacular. We eat lunch in a tent while people smile, dance, and sing around us. To our left is a couple from south London who talk politics. To our right is a family from San Diego who talk about money, or Madrid, or swimming, I'm not sure. I just eat the bread.
From here we go to the old town. We slip through narrow alleys and backways and it pours cold rain. There are so many scents we can't concentrate. Stray cats follow our crooked line as we try to stay under dripping overhangs and entryways. We are led to a warehouse of carpets, scarves, jewelry, and lanterns. We go on to an herbalist who sells us black cumin for headaches and orange blossom for sweet dreams. We walk up and down each connecting street before drinking the best orange juice ever squeezed. The return boat takes hours to unload. I feel better but nervously wait just-in-case. The ride is smooth and restful. The bus returns us through hills of wind turbines. Everything is beautiful, expansive.
When we get back we go to the restaurant on the hill where all of the horses are sleeping. Inside, children are taking the orders of other children. One bikes in circles on a miniature bicycle. We order seafood, go home, watch the Discovery Channel, and sleep.