Day 17 Tangier to Granada

It dawned a fine day, after a very noisy night - the windows were useless at screening out noise and there was a sudden and sustained outburst of car horns between 4am and 5am that woke me up. Joan had had a case of sudden onset squits at bed time, but that was now much better, thanks be to Allah.

After breakfast we made our way to the port and that journey went smoothly. Avoiding the touts for this and that we made our way to the Acciona office to confirm that our e-tickets were valid, but more importantly, that the ferry was running. The tickets were valid, but to our dismay the 9am  sailing was cancelled. We were shocked because sea conditions seemed very good. We deduced that it was cancelled due to lack of custom, as the 1pm sailing was still on. We had prepaid on the net and of course it was non-transferrable and non-refundable - Bastards.

This being Morocco, a helpful local sprang to our assistance and after eliciting our destination and departure time, guided us to another company's office - they are all in a row - where we were happy to pay €60 to get on another (hopefully fast) ferry, also at 9am. What's not apparent on the web is that there are a few actual ferry companies and many booking companies, and it's not easy to tell the difference. The whole passenger terminal is a shambles - totally uncoordinated with a lack of clear signs in multiple languages, and no official staff to give directions. Americans would go completely nuts at this lack of efficiency. Fortunately Aussie pensioners are more philosophic.

All angst and weariness aside, we did make it onto the boat, but had to leave our luggage in an unsecured area, aargh. There is no access to the deck area for photographic purposes so I feel cheated. Naturally the windows are a little less than clean. It's 9:25 and we have still not moved. Whingeing Aussies, enough! The passenger deck is less than 10% full, so that helps to explain the Acciona cancellation. They're still unethical bastards.  

Under way at 9:50 Morocco time. The journey was a little nausea-inducing but we did not have to resort to the barf bags. The trip took exactly one hour, accompanied by a two hour time zone shift. After disembarkation we got a taxi, the only one waiting, next to a bus, which seemed strange. And the fare of €28  seemed excessive for a distance of no more than a few kilometres. Then Joan's sensitive perceptors began to suspect that we were not in Algeciras. On querying the driver it transpired that we were in fact in Tarifa, a port about 20 Km west of Algeciras. In that context the fare was more reasonable. The trip was through a very scenic coastal area - lots of hills and many wind turbines.
 
On arriving at the train station we had our first win: we were able to get the Tarjeta Dorada, a seniors card. This reduced the train fare to Granada from €40 to €24. The man at the ticket counter was quite helpful and polite, even speaking a little English. However, rather than train all the way as expected, track work dictates that we take a bus to Ronda, perhaps 100 Km away, where we catch the train. Early on in our planning we had contemplated an overnight in Ronda. Apparently the post office is a distance away so we will forgo sending our stuff from here. There is a station cafeteria so sat down to some very nice ham rolls. After this snack I went out f    or a walk around the neighborhood and took a few photos.

On arriving back at the station, a young man previously inside having beer was also outside and came up and asked me if I spoke English. We started started a lively conversation which lasted for about half an hour. He was a PhD student in Archeology fromStanford University outsidce San Francisco, over here for a conference in Granada. He had spent a few weeks in Tunisia And Morocco. He said he eventhought he had seen us before, possibly at Volubilis. When he went insode for his bite to eat I invited him over to our table and we continued our conversation until it was time for the bus to go. It was a great way to kill time in an enjoyable manner and you don't have to be concerned about what confidences or opinions you let slip because you are unlikely to see them again. This is one aspect of travel that I really like. Rob, the PhD student, who was on the same ferry mentioned that he went from Tarifa to Algeciras on the bus that we had seen outside terminal. Gallingly, it was free, i.e. included in the ferry price. There had been no signs and no people advising about this. Grrrrr.

The bus drove along very good roads. The initial bit was uninteresting except for a glimpse of the mist-shrouded Rock of Gibraltar. Of course, while we were in the Café Hafa yesterday, what we thought was the unexpectedly close shore of Spain was in fact another part of Africa. The sky wasn't clear enough to see Spain. The bus continued along the hintercost through hilly country with loads of holiday apartment blocks. Very attractive scenery. Further inland the hills were bigger and eventually turned into mountains. This is really beautiful country and the holiday villas unfortunately do not improve it. This is near Malaga, btw. The road turned inland and started to climb up the side of a mountain along a new but very twisty road. We almost regretted not taking the barf bags from the ferry. The pass was at about 1065 m and the road then gently slid down to Ronda, where the train was waiting for us.

Ronda is an attractive place and it's a shame our itinerary couldn't fit a night in there as we had first planned. The train, in reality a motor-rail, with us in a wagon containing the diesel engine which emitted unpleasant fumes, then continued for a long distance through the mountains through very wide and pleasant valleys, with lots of little villages, some stuck high on hillsides or mountains. Although the area would be classified as rural it was definitely well-populated. There was grazing, a gazzilion plantations of olive trees and some other tree we could not identify. They covered whole hills in a very pretty manner. and their geometric spacing appealed to my Germanic sense of order. At one point there was a prominent rock outcrop on the plain and tried to get good shots of it. When we were past it for some distance and thr train changed direction, Joan called out for me to have a look. From the other side the hill had an uncanny resemblance to a face in profile, pointing skyward. This image had a powerful effect. After that I started seeing faces in all the hill rides.

The train coasted a large part of the way. We could terll this by the tempo of the diesel under our feet. Very noisy it was. The mountains and their outlier hills lasted almost all the way to Granada. I had no idea Spain was such a mountainous country. Note to self: do more research of your own.

We taxi-ed from the Granada station, on arriving at 20:35 pm, only 15 min late, to our hotel for a reasonable €5. Checkin with a rather sullen desk clerk proceeded smoothly until we discovered that the room had two beds. Phone call the reception - hotel full, no big beds.

We went out again immediately to get something to eat. We took a stroll down the main drag - Avenida de Colon and checked a few places out,chosing what looked to be the cheapest alternative.