Tarifa. You come halfway across the world to be in a place that reminds you of home.
I arrive in the last week of winter.
The town is still sleepy and it immediately feels like home. A couple of main streets, a tuna fishing town, looking across the sea to land (I'm thinking Boston Island, just go with me on this one), surfers, surf shops; located on a peninsula on the south of the country, beaches and a just a few more people with the population coming in at 17,000. You get my drift perhaps?
So I have travelled to the other side of the world to find home. I knew I would get along well with Tarifa. And of course, I'm in Spain, so there is much added allure.
So...The main street, it winds its way through the old town, which is about 1000 years old. The tuna boats are about one tenth of those in Port Lincoln and rather cute.
! Looking across the sea it is not a small island that houses the mayor but, alas, it is Morocco, Africa.........Africa!
The surfers are mostly kitesurfers and as the wind whirls past at speeds up to 40 knots the beach fills with hundreds.
And the peninsula, it looks over the Mediterranean Sea on the left, take a stroll around the corner and dip your feet in the Atlantic Ocean.
Tarifa is stylishly simple. It is refreshing and relaxed and the first day of spring the cafes open their doors and we sit at Café Del Mar with a freshly squeezed orange juice after a morning of sunshine.
Did I mention – the best patisserie I have ever been to in my life - 'la Tarifina'. Handmade chocolates and a chocolate donut that oozed chocolate sauce upon the first bite… I was in heaven as I wandered the old town with chocolate smothered hands and most probably face.
But even after this… this gushing you could say… there is still a dash of Lincoln; here and there at least.
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