Spain, Morocco, Gibraltar
TPAC and back the scenic route
Contains 624 photos, the last of which were added 11 months, 19 days, 16 hours, 54 minutes, and 7 seconds ago.
The journey to TPAC begins. An early train from Edinburgh to London, Eurostar to Paris, then an afternoon of wandering around Paris in the scorching sun. Cake at Cloud Cakes, and dinner and supplies from Land & Monkeys.
I had to walk from Nord to Austerlitz station, but had many hours to do it in. I wandered along the Seine, and found a sculpture park, and platforms by the water with people dancing.
After dark I waited in Austerlitz, for the night train to Toulouse. The night train was way more comfortable than I expected. The bed was comfy, the temperature in the cabin was perfect, my cabinmates were silent, and the train sounds were very soothing. Better night's sleep than I'd have had in a hotel in Toulouse, if I'd taken a fast train earlier. Definitely recommend.
From Toulouse I took a local train to Narbonne, and then from Narbonne the long distance Renfe train to Madrid. I'd hoped to reserve a seat on the next available train from Madrid to Seville and arrive at a reasonable time, but after being passed between three different Renfe ticket offices (after taking a number and waiting in line each time) I was told that the next available train wasn't until 8pm. So I waited for three hours, and arrived after midnight. At least I made it.
Five days in Sevilla for TPAC. Reconnecting with old friends and colleagues, and making new ones. I didn't do much touristing, but did manage to find decent vegan tapas. An exhausting but worthwhile week.
An evening bus from Sevilla to Tarifa; food and a wander around the small old town and onto a pitch black beach. As I approached the sea and heard the crashing of the waves, I almost cried. I can't believe how much I missed the sea after a week inland! The next day I went to see the same places again in daylight, and swam in the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Tarifa is lovely, I'd come here again.
Then I caught a ferry to Tanger.
Arrived in Tanger at lunchtime. Got lost for an hour looking for my hostel in the old town. This got decreasingly fun as it was very hot and I was carrying my backpack, GPS wasn't working and I went around in many circles. Eventually I discovered the hostel was at the end of a street that was in the process of being dug up and I'd walked past it several times already.
Feeling a bit claustrophobic in the old town, I had lunch (tagine) on the promenade, then wandered along to the beach, and into the main part of the city. Tanger is a lot bigger than I expected.
I caught a tour bus outside the train station, and stayed on it for a ride out along the coast in the evening. I saw the sunset near Cap Spartel lighthouse, and stuck my head in Hercules' cave, which was packed full of tourists and junk.
Dinner was couscous at a nice local-feeling-but-actually-had-lots-of-tourists-in restaurant (Ahlan) near the Grande Mosque.
Hostel Riad is lovely.
For a nice change of pace, it rained pretty heavily all day in Tanger. I visited the castle museum (mostly outside, so wet, and very small), wandered around Place 9 Avril between showers.
Stopped for bissara at a place called bissara which only serves bissara after walking round the block several times to work up to it. It was a tiny very local place, so I observed for a while to see what the sitting/ordered etiquette seemed to be, and had to wait for a table to free up as well. Despite initial anxiety, I managed to eat bissara (white bean breakfast soup) and bread and Moroccan tea and that all filled me up for the entire day afterwards. For about £1.
I enjoyed the American Legation Museum, and learnt a lot of history I didn't know. I was very inspired by the Ibn Battouta museum, which is well worth the visit.
I got on the tour bus when I spotted it with the ticket I already had, and rode it for most of the route despite wet seats. Jumped off at Cafe Hafa for coffee and managed not to get rained on too much. Wandered until I found the Roman ruins, which was mostly just a really good viewpoint where lots of people were taking selfies. Managed to catch the bus back into town.
Rain was tapering off by the evening, so I went for a wander in the old town, and decided to have dinner based on where I happened to pop out. This took me to a Syrian place called Abou Tayssir which was incredible, especially the kibbeh. And lovely vibes.
I went to the beach to catch the sunrise, but apparently this is a weird thing to do as lots of people were asking where I was going and I got weird looks when I sat down.
I returned to the hostel for breakfast, and there I met two lovely people who became my friends and travel companions that day. We wandered in the old town, then caught the tour bus to Cap Spartel. This time we went into the grounds and museum which had lots of interesting lighthouse and historical information (albeit all in French). There were lovely gardens, and extremely expensive juice.
We walked to the beach and the rock of Hercules, before hopping on the tour bus back.
Back in town, we went straight to Abou Tayssir and ordered everything vegan on the menu between us and had a fantastic time.
Socialised some more in the hostel with lots of Germans, before the three of us headed out again for tea in the old town, and watched the world go by.
Meeting these two made a huge difference to my trip, and helped me to find a new perspective on Tanger!
A relaxing final morning in Tanger. I had considered leaving much earlier, but my new friends kept me longer. We ate bissara, went to the market, and drank lots of tea in a quiet courtyard. A helped R with Arabic writing, and they both added something to a postcard to my Mum.
I finally boarded the ferry back to Spain. It departed quite late.
The ferry from Tanger to Tarifa arrived quite late. In my wisdom, I decided to get the FRS bus from Tarifa to Algeciras because it's included with the ferry ticket... but that left very late too. Then I got lost in Algeciras (which as a whole did not leave a good impression on me) between the port and the bus station, and missed two buses to La Linea, setting be back even further. The bus I did finally catch from Algeciras was fast, and the walk from the bus station at La Linea to the border is short and straightforward. There were no crowds or lines.
When I got to the hostel I had to wait around for someone to arrive to let me in. So my whole prospective afternoon in Gibraltar was gone, alas.
I went for a wander, and stopped for motivational ice cream. I was trying to work out whether I should take the cable car to the top of the Rock (expensive) and walk down (dark soon?), or if I should just walk up in the morning (is it accessible? How long would it take?). Taxi drivers trying to sell tours to the top insisted that walking up was impossible, which if anything made me more determined to try it. I did agree with them that the cable car pricing is extortionate, however. And then it's another £20 on top of that to get into the nature reserve. Hmm. I approached the botanical gardens, which were open until sunset, but was accosted by a taxi driver trying to fill a car he already had a couple of takers for. In the moment, still undecided about my itinerary and wanting to make best use of my very limited time, I conceded, and joined a French couple on the ride to the top (for 25eur).
I'm glad I did. The taxi driver (Ryan) was lovely and related a little bit of history but more day-to-day life and economics of Gibraltar, all of which is new and interesting to me. He introduced us to some macaque friends, and we talked about Scotland as well. The ride took about an hour, and gave me a good preview of the top and convinced me that it was definitely climbable at sunrise the next day... He also pointed out that going up before 9 means I don't have to pay the entrance fee to the nature reserve.
I had dinner at a slightly fancy place by the water, then ran to Morrisons in time to get supplies for my early morning adventure, before bed. I got back to the hostel to meet an aggressive cat, and find I was sharing my dorm only with one other person.
I woke up early and climbed the Rock before sunrise. It was very doable! I went via the Moorish castle, and was high up on the west side by sunrise, but not over the top. Then I wound my way through the nature reserve, detouring around paths that looked interesting, and avoiding big roads, not that there was any traffic. I found the suspension bridge, but didn't cross it due to intimidating macaques whom I didn't not want to jump on my head over an enormous drop.
The day got hotter and I met a few runners and nature reserve staff.
There are some steep steps running straight down the middle in one area, linking various horizontal tracks together. Generally all of the tracks are very accessible, most are for vehicles.
My route down was via the mediterranean steps, which was absolutely gorgeous. Over the east side of the Rock, it was suddenly quiet. The steps were scrambly and wild, and there were lots of caves.
I got back down later than expected, and couldn't take a bus back to the town center because they didn't take card or give change! So I walked, fast, in time to check out from the hostel.
I wanted brunch and a nice sit down at a tea shop, but decided realistically I needed to march straight back over the border to La Linea bus station. It's a good job I did, because I discovered that the bus I wanted to get to Malaga was full. Somehow not at all panicked, I jumped on the next bus back to Algeciras, and texted K to help me buy a ticket for the next Algeciras-Malaga bus in the meantime, in case that was full by the time I got there. Phew.
Despite the hiccup in Gibraltar, I managed to get to Malaga in time for the 7 hour train to Barcelona. This ran late, quickly eating up 25 of the 31 minutes I had to catch the last train to Cardedeu. Barcelona Sants is huge, and I had no idea where to go; Renfe staff were no help at all. I did a bunch of research on the station to work out where the regional trains were likely to be, and decided I get a taxi to Cardedeu rather than sleep in the station or walk into town for a very expensive hostel. Off the train, dodging slow pullers of suitcases, I saw no signs to the regional trains, and had to pause to ask someone. I sprinted in the direction pointed, to be met by a wall of ticket barriers, too robust to climb over or squeeze through. My interrail pass never opens barriers, and there were no staff in sight. Fortunately a nice lady let me tailgate behind her. I continued to run, unable to see the train I was expecting on a screen, but aware it was an R2 (but there are 3 R2 lines, all going to different places, and I didn't know the end destination). I saw a train that was a candidate, ran down the wrong stairs, back up again, down the right stairs, determined it was my train as it began to pull away.... I kept running in desperation, onto the platform... and it stopped. And opened the doors.
Eternal thanks to that driver, and thank goodness this thing is run by human beings and not computers.
So I made it to Cardedeu to stay with B, very late, and woke up E.
But it was wonderful to see B. The next day we had coffee, walked around the town, and got tasty food from a market stall.
And then I set off again. Back to Sants for a train to Latour de Carol. This train was slow, winding through beautiful mountains. A busker in the carriage made it feel like a dream. The journey reminded me of my 2013 interrail through Austria.
The night train to Paris was waiting, and I found my bunk straight away. Another great train sleep.
Another walk across Paris, this time in torrential rain. My Eurostar was delayed by an hour and a half. Thank goodness for LNER being flexible about interrail passes. I made it to Edinburgh about three quarters of an hour later than expected, which is not too bad in the grand scheme of things.
