I’m leaning into the wind as grains of sand blast my face. We made it! Rolled into town, literally, on the M-550 intercity bus and were greeted by the winds that make Tarifa one of the foremost kitesurfing destinations in the world. Hundreds of kitesurfers in their church paying homage to the wind by riding wildly across unruly waves, thier kites parasols dotting the sky. It’s good to be here, it smells like salt and sea. The wind is roaring, waves are crashing, Mike and I have to shout to hear each other on the beach.

Our arrival was bitter sweet. Our intercity chariot a savior for my battered feet. What brought joy to my feet caused sadness in my heart. Missing the last two days of the trek feels akin to missing the last two pieces of a puzzel. The trek was a little incomplete, but that doesn’t tarnish the experience. We have made it here… to the straight of Gibraltar and the tip of Spain. Cause to celebrate!

A geography lesson: (mom and dad – I’m using my college education!) The Straight of Gibraltar lies between Spain and Morocco. The distance is 7.8 miles (14.4 km) across. Looking out over the straight you lay eyes on another contintent! People swim across it, there are seven species of whales to be seen in it (including Orcas!) and it’s one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. Most notably… the Straight of Gibraltar is where the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea meet. This is a place of legend, myth and history.

The land in the far distance is Africa!

Tarifa is by all means a diverse town with a young hip vibe and high concentration of expats and retirees. Many languages heard in the street, kitesurfers living in their cars, people with babies and surfboards, ocean die hards of the babyboomer generation wearing flipflops no matter the temperature. Hip healthy eateries, lots of tattoos and souvenier shops side by side with the old town of white walls, quaint cafes and cobble streets. This mix produces a vibrant city.

We spent only 1 night in Tarifa. I want to tell you we went out and raised a glass to our success, that we laughed and relived moments from the trek, talked about our favorite spots, sights and sounds. But I think it was less glamourus than that. I don’t recall a toast, in fact I don’t think we had a drink at all. I recall a stomach ache from a lousy lunch, walking slowly due to blisters and getting rained on while standing in line at the pastry shop only to make it to the counter and have the dessert I had my eye on gone!

The trek has been one of the biggest highlights for me of our time in Spain. I am often at my best when in sync with the mountains, moving through the landscape, present to my body and the moment. I appreciate the time walking through this part of Andalucia. Like the grains of sand in my face, it has shaped my Spain experience.