Stormy seas in Cadiz

Cadiz. Photo by Justine Pierre.
Cadiz. Photo by Justine Pierre.
In this week's Reader Postcard Justine Pierre soaks up the storym city of Cadiz

It was a dark and stormy night. The ultimate cliché perhaps, but unfortunately it was true.

It had been a dark and stormy day, too, as well as incredibly windy.

Cadiz, in the south of Spain, is a beautiful city.

Cobbled streets lead to hidden shops, tucked away in mysterious alleyways.

Being on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean means that it gets the full blast of the weather and huge storms are not uncommon.

I was there in just such a storm.

I could see the weather rolling in on the coast: dark ominous clouds and waves full of suspense.

For me, Cadiz was the gateway to Gibraltar.

I was passing through on my way to Portugal and could not resist a stopover so I could "collect" the final, and most crucial, place on my list of places mentioned in The Ballad of John and Yoko.

Unfortunately, the weather meant the bus to Gibraltar was cancelled.

Ever the intrepid traveller, I grabbed my umbrella and went off to explore Cadiz by foot.

By 11am, the sky had darkened sufficiently to let loose the first torrent of rain. Only half-drenched, but with a wind-ruined umbrella, I bought another one and soldiered on.

By 1pm, fully drenched and with a second wind-ruined umbrella, I called it quits and headed back to the hostel.

I thought maybe I was a bit wimpy, but it turned out everyone else had the same idea.

And the afternoon turned out better than I could ever have planned.

There was a whole mixture of people staying there: students on their Erasmus studies, backpackers, Germans, Austrians, Aussies, French and a fellow Kiwi.

We spent the afternoon drinking cups of tea, talking in broken English and German about our different countries, education systems, national history and swapping travel stories.

Around 6pm, the lights spluttered, flickered a couple of times, then went out.

Luckily, the kitchen ran on gas so dinner could be cooked and cups of tea could continue uninterrupted.

Someone found a beat-up old guitar lurking in a back cupboard and the musos let loose.

Every Beatles, Dylan and campfire song we could remember were sung, along with a selection of traditional folk songs from the travellers.

Just like a scene from the Summer of Love ... in the middle of winter. - Justine Pierre

 

 

 

 

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