I had gotten to myself into a pretty busy weekend. By the time I left work on Friday, I ran home for a quick lunch and a final packing session before I caught the tram to Plaza de Armas-from that point I waited for my Blablacar.

Blablacar is a super popular service that connects you with drivers. You can view a bunch of drivers and their departing locations and times and meet them for a fraction of a bus ticket. Usually the times are better than the buses and you have the added bonus of interacting with a new friend for a couple of hours.

I had a little difficulty locating my fast-talking-Sevillana driver but managed to hop in without too much trouble. Then we were off. I rode with a teacher and a college student returning for the long weekend.

A few minutes before we arrived in Tarifa I saw some mountains in the distance-as we got closer to the shore I realized that I was seeing Africa. I got dropped off a couple miles down the beach and walked along the boardwalk, stopping for a videochat with my dad and then a quick little swim.

I hadn’t booked a hostel so I wandered around until I found a hostel I liked-they were booked up so I walked around for another and checked into a kite surfing hostel where I chatted with some dutch kite surfers and an Italian looking to get certified in his international kite surfing license, and learned some about kite surfing and the other hot spots in the world. Unfortunately, the winds were a bit lackluster that weekend so a lot of the kitesurfing crowd was a little more occupied with boozing than kiting.

I read a couple chapters of my new Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone (Spanish Translation) before going to bed.

I woke up early in the morning so I could get to the beach. I walked down to a couple of surf shops before I could found a boogie board rental (20 euro a day, he said. I walked out.  ‘Oh, I was quoting the surfboard prices!’ he said.) I had a blast boogie boarding that morning (for 10 euros).

I walked back into town and caught a ride for the last 1km with a french lady. I checked out of the hostel and walked down to the bus station. There are 6 buses from Tarifa to Gibraltar a day, but I had missed the 2pm one and the next one wouldn’t leave until 5pm, which would only give me a few moments at the nature reserve before it closed. So I took the bus at 3 to Algeciras instead, knowing that it would get me at least closer to Gibraltar.

I arrived to Algeciras in what I later found out was a rougher part of town. I found a hostel just steps away from the bus stop, talked to a boy who misdirected me to the hostel, and finally made it. I dropped my bag before I went on a walk around town, hitting the Corte Inglés, a ubiquitous Spanish department store, then walking back down one of Spain’s largest ports before stopping at a marina and grabbing some paella and morrocan mint tea. Algeciras is a big spot for Morrocan traffic, both immigration and shipping, and has a huge North African influence.

I went to bed early so I could take the bus from Algeciras to Gibraltar. We went along the whole of the bay, hitting literally every single roundabout along the way. As we pulled up to the bus station in Línea de la Concepción, I could see the border crossing. The border is minimally passport controlled-you show a guy your passport and he grunts at you. From there you walk across an active runway straight into the relatively built up, English speaking town, although most non-tourist inhabitants are bilingual. From there I walked to the northernmost entrance to the Nature Reserve, the main event of the whole situation.

I passed a little control booth that took both Euros and British pounds to pay my fee to get into the national park. Since the entry to the park was 6 euro, and the tram to the top was 12, I elected to hike. On the way I passed an old fort and an old but newer WW2 era bunker. It was almost 2 hours steep hike to the top but I enjoyed the nature and the gradually improving views.

I was given quite the start buy a Macaque chilling on a little rock wall. Not long after I passed a little monkey feeding station where the tour taxis would stop. That’s where I took a lot of these monkey pictures. They were super devious and accustomed to humans, and one jumped on the top of my backpack. I saw another one jump on a backpack, open it, and steal some kleenex.

The babies are super cute, the moms are a little bigger and the most aggressive, and the big papas are about 30 pounds and don’t move, except when you get too close and they bare their teeth.

Just past the monkeys there was an overlook to the other side of the rock-ships, water, and the near vertical rock face made for an incredible view.

I hiked to the point, a WW2 Era Battery, before turning around and taking the stairs to the bottom. On the way down, there were little troupes of monkeys chilling on the stairs, with the big alpha males completely in the way-I literally had to step over them, and it was honestly a little terrifying. They would show their fangs and screech if you got close.

I got to the bottom and walked to the runway, where I witnessed/had to wait for a plane landing on the runway. I hopped on the bus back to Algeciras since I left my swim trunks at the hostel, and as I arrived back at the station near by, I got a call that my Blablacar was ready to leave Algeciras. I raced back up, grabbing the trunks and making it back down to the corner to get picked up by Jose, a Donald Trump supporting Spainard, ‘Que gracioso!’ he would say.

I arrived in Cadiz anticipating accommodation with a Spanish friend who ended up ghosting me and the friend I was meeting in Cadiz. I went for an hour long swim in the pretty strong surf before I gave up on contacting her, and then charged my phone at an heladeria before trying to find a hostel. Every last one was booked solid, so I decided to take the Mid-Distance train back to Sevilla. I grabbed a quick snack before hopping on the train back.

An incredible, whirlwind trip, at the end-and it ended up being almost completely solo, as well, even though I met a few really cool Spaniards along the way, and one Italian kitesurfing instructor.

I am about halfway done with my stay here 59/120ish days and the weather is getting a little colder. Sunday was a near perfect 70 and sunny. This weekend I stay in Seville, the next weekend a day trip, and over Halloween, a flight to the Canary Islands. It’s going fast but slow at the same time, I’m excited to be here but also excited to be home. Life’s a trip.