I can’t believe we are up to our last day in this lovely little Spanish beach town. 

We spent the day quietly. The other swimmers have gone so it’s just the 7 in our group. 

The only downside was my card being eaten by the bank last night. It’s my Qantas Club debit card which I loaded with euros before we left. So this morning I went to the bank where a non English looking rock star , doubling as a bank teller, told me in hand signs and a ‘I couldn’t give a {%££#>!!!! About your card. I pleaded for them to look in the machine but he wasn’t interested! So on returning to our riad,  Pia our landlady who happened to be here,  said she would go to the bank and talk in Spanish to find out what happened. Senior ‘I couldn’t give a %}>>€%> ‘ gave a practised shrug and rattled off in Spanish the explanation. All left cards get dropped into a locked box even the bank can’t open It’s collected once a week and cards are shredded. Nice! 

Meanwhile John Donati whose card was swallowed at another bank got his back no trouble. So I have suspended the card and have my cash sitting unable to be used! At least I’ll have money on my return. 

So the rest of the day was peaceful with strolling the streets, a little shopping, a swim, a Sangria at our lovely white cafe at the beach, ice cream – my first! Packing and drinks on the roof terrace eating John Donati’s mothers’ fudge. Goes great with red wine. 

 Then our last dinner as a group at a very crowded tapas bar. Here you have to be prepared to wait for a table -even when you book. You stand in the narrow street drinking wine and trying to blend into the mostly young crowd. I love it. 

So our week has been fantastic: 

Swims to Africa, tension over weather and the team combinations, group dinners, sangria, hot days, cool breezes, red wine, churros and hot chocolate, late nights, later morning starts, more sangria, ice cream, laughter, friendship, swimming, walking, eating, drinking, day trips to interesting places, watching sunsets and swooning, fresh tuna, market visits, cocktails and fudge on the terrace, group photos, flag waving, newspaper photos, the morning parade of revellers past our riad sounding like the end of a football match, more laughter and stories, pink pigs, sun hats and everlasting memories. 

 Oh what a week. 

  
Farewell Tarifa