On the southernmost tip of Europe is the wee town of Tarifa. From here you can stand in view of both the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, or if you look over the Straits of Gibraltar the coast of Africa is clearly visible (it's only a 35 minute ferry ride away). Maybe it is something to do with all those ocean currents meeting, but it is pretty windy here and large numbers of kite surfers zip about on the choppy water.

We had the option of catching the ferry to Tangier for dinner. However, Dale and I were feeling all Morroco-d out, so passed in preference for a relaxing afternoon exploring Tarifa. Although I had hopes we would be able to bus to nearby Gibraltar - still a British territory - the bus schedule did not cooperate. I was loudly disappointed. Dale was quietly relieved. He was still recovering from his big day of surfing and so suggested that after lunch (seafood paella for me and pork loin with goats cheese gratin for Dale, as well as a delicious complementary tapa of chorizo on toast) we head to the beach for some r & r. The golden sandy beach on the Mediterranean side was sheltered from the brunt of the wind, so we sat and people watched - always a fascinating pastime - making quiet observations to each other about unusual tattoos, oddly matched couples, and the variety of topless sunbathers (from skinny young women with chests like a 12 year old, to women in their 60s with boobs down to their belts).

Not brave enough to enter the chilly water, as the afternoon got hotter we decided to take a walk through the old town. Remnants of the city walls reminded us of the city's strategic significance. At various times in history the town had belonged to the French, the Moors and of course Spain. Our guide told us about Guzman the Good - a Christian leader of Tarifa who during a war with the Moors watched his son be executed rather than surrender his city to Muslims.

We ended up at a pub near the waterfront watching the Czech - Greece Euro cup match over a beer. Unlike at home, if you order a beer they assume you want a small one (rather than a pint), and once you finish, they don't come back and offer a refill unless you can somehow attract a waitress's attention. This was actually fortunate for us as we didn't have to order any more of the horrible tap beer and got to watch the game undisturbed and unhurried.

Not feeling terribly hungry after our satisfying lunch, we decided on a light dinner at a cheap vegetarian restaurant just inside one of the city walls. The place was tiny, with four tables and eastern themed decor. The felafel was the best I have ever had and came with a generous serving of homemade hummus, salad, tzatzeki (hmm spellcheck is struggling with that one) and wholemeal pita bread - all for 4.60Euro. Dale's samosa was tasty - filled with indian style vegetables and served with chutney and salad- but a little dry, so he scored about half of my felafel (so good that he reckons it's woth coming back to Tarifa for!)