Spain

My trip across the straits of Gibraltar from Tangiers to Algacieras was fun albeit more for the humour value than anything else. One of my true biological curses in life is a weak stomach on large ocean liners. My one cure for this is fresh air. So while many others huddled inside the ferry in warm corners with hot coffee, I sat out on the deck in Mediterranean darkness with a strong wind and lights of distant ships to keep me company. Eventually, I did find a fellow passenger who shared my problem but we kept to opposite sides of the aft observation deck. I huddled in one corner, he calmly sat in the other reading his paper. I thought I was the worse off until the first time he calmly got up and turned around to the rubbish bin behind him and "called to God". I decided shortly thereafter that I wasn't nearly as sick as I thought.

When we docked in Algacieras, I went through customs to find that the bus which 40 people had paid for to go to Madrid was not there. That was at 8:00 pm. By ten, it was still not there. Having forty people on the curb in front of a ferry port does not make for a fun evening in a situation like that, let me tell you. Luckily, I quickly learned that the Spanish are very patient with this and not without humour and tolerance for 'that which runs behind schedule'.

By eleven I was uncomfortably lying on a marble floor in the doorway of the port with several dozen Moroccans and Spaniards all waiting for various buses to arrive. By twelve I wasn't sleeping and wondering if a hotel across the street was not a better idea. Finally, by one thirty the bus had arrived and we were off by two.

Asleep, slumped over a headrest, I was finally on my way to Madrid. This experience would come to punctuate my four days there.

Spain was never an efficient place but no one seemed to mind, and I quickly grew to not mind either. 'Refreshingly laid back' was probably the best way to describe the people and by the time I left, I came to understand why I had loved the Spanish people I knew and worked with so much.

They have got more zest for life than most any culture I have encountered.

While there I got to see a good friend from Malaysia, my Hannah.

We trekked through mountains, went to bars and had tapas, and drank some of the cheapest stinking 'lemonade' that left you more limp and legless than a jellyfish out of water.

Spain was far too short a trip but I can see why the English love it and choose it as their favourite holiday destination.