I did sleep last night just a little, but most of the time was spent listening to the pitter patter of raindrops on the tent. Grumbles of thunder in the distance were a sign of things to come and the downpour coincided with my departure time. Over the years I’ve mastered the art of packing up everything apart from the tent itself while actually sitting in the tent. I’m delighted to see that it’s a skill that I haven’t lost (although I’m a tad disappointed that I’ve had to prove my skill at such an early stage of the trip). I gave the tent a good shake; it’s still sodden but I’ll worry about that later. I have other more exciting things to look forward to first…
The cycle back in the direction of Tarifa from the campsite was against the wind but it was only a short ride and I’m now sitting about to have breakfast in the smart Café Central. I was actually here last Friday when my uncle picked me up in Tarifa (see previous posts) and it will provide the healthy energy required for the first part of the day:
In a few minutes I’ll head down to Europe’s most southerly point clutching my Guardia Civil authorisation to access the Isla de las Palomas. Here’s hoping they haven’t changed their minds. Then it’s the 80km cycle to Conil. At that point I’ll worry about the wet tent, but not until.