You know how pretentious people use the word "summer" as a verb, as in "I summer in the south of Spain"? Weird vocabulary aside, it makes sense why they would, because it's really pretty here. Our bus passed through a lot of idyllic countryside and beach roads before arriving in Tarifa. This small town has a unique claim to fame as being the origin of the word "tariff", so given the current political news, I thought now was a good time to ask the experts what's going on. Turns out I only know enough Spanish to rap "Donde esta la bibliotheca?", and they're too busy chilling on the beach to care. We didn't stay long, just enough time to get some dinner and one night's sleep. We'd pass through here again in a few days, but for now it was off to Morocco.

Morocco, or specifically Tangier, is surprisingly close to Spain. In fact you can easily see it across the Straits of Gibraltar, but it's still about a 1 hour ferry ride. This is only the second time I've "entered" a country by boat, if you count Macau - so I guess the first country proper. I don't really remember what the conditions were then, but it was very rough this time around. I suppose through genetic luck the waves didn't bother me at all, but Ashley and Ella could not say the same. They were pretty green-gilled, and even though Ashley had dimenhydrinate, it was a bit too late for it to do much good.

But with breakfast surprisingly still in Ella's belly, we made it to Africa, a first for all of us. And I'm just going to say I love Tangier. Like, really love Tangier. It's on the very short list of places I could see myself living, because it's just so different. We stayed in the old town, or medina. It's a network of small alleys somehow housing everything you'd ever need. And there is zero rhyme or reason to their layout, twisting and turning into who knows where. Fortunately Google has done a good job, because oh wow, I'd get lost instantly. The buildings are tall and people build out, so you sometimes can't even see the sky. But all the locals move about effortlessly, and I thought how cool it would be to grow up here, and have an internal GPS of where to go. Actually, in the off chance if you played an old DOS adventure game called Quest for Glory II, it's pretty accurate - except the alleys are even narrower.

But I would be remiss if I didn't talk about the other residents of Tangier - the cats. I saw more cats in the 72 hours I was there than I've seen in my life, I think. The locals take care of them, putting out food and water, even saying hello and petting them like they're old friends. I get the feeling they don't "belong" to anybody, but there's a really endearing level of mutual trust between everyone. We said hello to so, so many, but given our/my history with stray cats, we didn't do much petting - except the hostel cat, he was cool. Mostly they were pretty unfazed by people, you could walk right past them without them giving a single care. But they added a lot of character to the street, because you never knew which kind of cat you'd run into or where.

Narrow alleys full of coffee shops and cats is enough by itself, but I have had little exposure to Moroccan food. I've eaten tajine before, but as expected, it's on a whole different level here. Essentially just braised vegetables and/or meat, it comes in a still boiling kind of bowl with a hat on top. It's full of spices, and every one we ate was 10/10. And at every meal, you get an appetizer of olives a kind of Moroccan bread called khobz. Certainly I love olives, but I'm not usually much of a bread guy - it's just a vehicle to deliver other food. But not this bread. It's really good, and has a rough, semolina-like exterior. It's perfect for mopping up the tajine, and is the first bread I've ever eaten that makes me want to try and make it myself.

I think we didn't do too many notable things while there, mostly going to pretty spots and taking pretty photos. We saw the tomb of Ibn Battuta, a great explorer from ~800 years ago who went to even more places than Marco Polo. We also visited the former American Embassy, which was surprisingly lovely and kind of the highlight? Fun facts that I didn't know, Morocco was the very first country to recognize the US's independence. Also, this embassy is the one and only US federal landmark outside of the United States. It was basically just a colonial-era kind of home, but especially beautiful given its location in the narrow alleys. Nowadays the US embassy is somewhere else, as I'm sure it outgrew this place. But they still do American stuff, and now it's a kind of cultural center that puts on plays, has free classes, and lots of other stuff. Also their furniture is in amazingly good shape, and they don't care if you use it. It was pretty cool to sit at the ambassador's desk for that once-in-a-lifetime photo. I'll put Ella's here, but you can bet we all took turns.

But after days of olives, photos, and coffee (a majority Muslim country, no alcohol), Ashley moved onto another place in Morocco, while we took a much needed half day rest to make plans and figure out our life. In the short term, we really enjoyed our time in Spain, so we wanted to see more of it. So the next day we took the morning boat back to Tarifa, this time with Ella taking the dimenhydrinate before getting on the ferry. I'm glad we had a bit more time in Tarfia on this return trip, because although it doesn't have a lot, what it does have is surprisingly cool. The castle there has a long history, but what I like about it is it's not really "touristified". They pretty much just added some lights and said "Off you go", so it's more like a castle playground. One of the best 4 euros I ever spent, I loved it here.

After the castle we took a walk around this very beautiful beach town, just seeing what's around. It has a very cool "lazy seaside" kind of vibe, full of white and blue buildings, and people just taking it easy. We stopped by a few kitchy, local art shops, got lunch, and just took it all in. We've learned the bakeries in Spain are quite pretty, so we made the time to visit one in order to see the beautiful pastries. They were indeed quite beautiful, but I also figured we could get a snack for the bus. Ella spotted this massive piece of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, which somehow was only 1.5 euros. I was thinking, is that per 100 grams or something? Nope, it was for about 1/4 of a cake. I mean, if the price wasn't a good enough deal, it was also one of the best cakes I've ever had, carrot cake or not. Certainly didn't expect that from a small seaside town. Regardless, after a full lunch plus giant cake, we were nice and full for the 3 hour bus ride to Malaga, a place I know nothing about. I'm going to judge them based on their pastries, so no matter who loses, I win.

Whew, there's a lot to talk about, and some really big news to start with - to rip off the band-aid, Ella and I are no longer going to live in Portugal. I know this is a bit of a shock, given that we upended our whole lives to make it there. Believe me, it was a shock to us too. Because of this messed up situation, we basically had half a week to completely pack up and move our lives again, right after we had just gotten settled. It sucked. There was a lot of crying. It's too long of a story to put here, so instead I put it as an entry right before this one. I don’t know how exciting it would be for me to harp on about endless paperwork procedures, but it is there if you want to try a new sleep aid.

However, now we are homeless, in the most flattering and literal sense of that word. Which means there is nothing holding us anywhere, and we have no idea where we will be living or what we will be doing weeks or months from now. Which is a somewhat liberating yet uneasy feeling. For the time being though, Ella has a shiny European visa, so we might as well use it. We had a good friend who had previously arranged to visit us in Lisbon, but because of our crazy uncertainty, she wisely changed her plans to travel around Spain instead. With no place to go, and no direction in life, she was kind enough to let us tag along - so we put our stuff in storage, and off we went to meet Ashley while we figured out where our life was taking us. Within 48 hours, we had completely tucked away our entire lives, and were on 7-hour bus trip from Lisbon to Seville.

The timing was somewhat complicated, because it was actually Holy Week/Easter. To be honest I didn’t know much about Seville before coming here, but I do remember Easter is kind of a big deal there. And oh boy, was it. The most immediately apparent thing was that hotel prices were sky high. Fortunately, we found one that wasn’t too bad, and what’s more, the 3 of us could share it, making the price more approachable. But, being a tourist on Easter in Seville is a combination of interesting/complicated. Their big thing is that the monks do regular processions through the streets, wearing their super pointy hats, carrying candles, and displaying a giant effigy (is that the right word?) of the crucifixion. Is that cool? Yes. The first time. The hundredth time? Not so much. There are a lot of churches, and they do this all day, well into the evening up until 1 or 2 am. And they are not short processions either, they can be half a kilometer long, moving at a shuffling pace. There were many times we needed to cross the line, but we were surrounded on all sides. And wow, the crowds really went wild for these processions, for reasons unbeknownst to me. Again, first time, cool. But they, the locals, would run from one group to the other. Like, they’re really all the same guys. But regardless, we were often stuck in pointy hat jail. Maybe other people like us started to get a bit annoyed, and after a few days, started to push through the crowds and sneakily cross the lines whenever they stopped for a moment. I am sure Spanish people muttered “stupid tourists” under their breath, but eventually we threw decorum out the window and started to do the same.

Trying not to let this less-than-ideal situation of Seville cloud my judgement, overall I would say that the city is okay. It sort of reminds me of Venice, in that it is an “old people Disneyland” designed to extract as much money out of people as possible. And while it is a nice looking city, I do think Venice has the edge up. I mean, Venice, everywhere you look could be on a postcard. Seville’s old town certainly has some of that, and can be quite beautiful at times. But the thing that really sits wrong with me is that they charge for entry into churches. Seville isn’t unique in doing this, but I also think it kind of goes against what churches are. Why not make it a donation? Anyway, the big sight of the city, the cathedral, was booked for months in advance. However, they did have midnight mass on Easter, so Ella and our friend went, while I had to work. Christopher Columbus is buried there, and she got a photo of his tomb for me. It’s hard to think of someone less deserving to be buried in a place of worship, but given his history in the US, I’m glad at least one of us got to see it. The rest of the church, well, you'd have to ask Ella. She quite enjoyed it.

Oddly enough, the sight I found most interesting in Seville was the Art Museum. First of all, it was only 1.5 euros, which is my kind of price. But also, it was just really beautiful? Not just the art, the building itself was like a Spanish villa. I’d put it above the really famous one in Madrid (The Prado?), both in the museum experience and the quality of the art. The part of the city around there also was really nice, full of little cafes and alleys that felt really special, like something out of a fairy tale, in a good way. We had planned to go to another palace nearby, but looking at photos online and peeking through the windows, it actually didn’t look as good as the art museum we just were. Plus, the 12 euro price tag seemed a bit high, so that was a pass. We walked so far we eventually ended up by the river, and climbed a tower to get a better view. Add on a 1 euro coffee and a grocery store pasta salad, I think it’s one of the best trips I’ve had for under 5 bucks.

 

The other sight we made an effort to see was the Plaza de Espana, which is really just a park. However, it’s a park with a very beautiful… structure? Pavilion? I’m not really sure what to call it, it’s a large covered walkway with some towers you can go up. This was absolutely the highlight of the trip, and one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. There was so much going on there, from people hanging out, taking rowboats through the canal, horse carriage rides, and everything in-between. It was really idyllic, and I think we each wound up taking a hundred photos or more. In fact, you could say I took two very special photos there. The first is that this place was the filming location for a scene in Star Wars, and while not my favorite of the movies, it was really cool to recreate that shot - as best we could, as it has been remodeled a bit since. Probably the more special photo though, was a surprise. While walking near a particularly scenic part, a Spanish couple approached and asked me to take a photo of them. Of course I agreed, and while I was, the guy pulled out a ring and proposed! I was so shocked I just kept snapping away and hoped that at least one of the photos turned out well. Crazy to think that one of those are going to be a big part of the rest of their lives! To top it off, Ella and friend were walking a few meters ahead of me, and missed everything. I caught up with them to let them know, and we ran back to catch up with the couple again. They have a daughter/niece/something (language barrier) from Guangdong, China, so we got to bond a bit over that.

That evening we hung out at the hotel with some wine, because it boggles my mind how you can make a profit selling a bottle for 1 euro. But the next day it was onto the next destination - a place that has sort of been in the news a lot lately, for all the wrong reasons.