While we were booking train tickets to Cadiz, an obnoxious American (who looked hispanic but spoke no Spanish) kept trying to cut people off in line. The woman in front of us yelled at him in Spanish, looking at me after every few lines. I understood most of it, nodded my head in agreement and said "si". Finally he went to the back of the line.

Of course when we got on the train, every other row of seats were facing backward and the obnoxious guy sat across from us. During the entire five hour ride to Cadiz he blasted his iPod at full volume. We could hear the music from his earphones over the noise of the train.

From Cadiz, we took a bus to Tarifa. Thankfully the obnoxious guy wasn't on the bus. I was sure he would be staying in the hotel room next to ours.

Tarifa is a beautiful beach town filled with kite-surfers and pregnant hippies. It is still a bit chilly, but it is warm enough to sit in the sun by the pool or on the beach. It is strange being in such a completely different culture. In Sudan, the women were covered from head to toe; i'm sure you can imagine what the women in Spain wear (or don't wear) on the beach.