Published in Magill, June/July 2008
Sunday comes. There was talk of the weather turning, but it hasn’t. The wind blows cold and low, the Levante, south east across Spain, finding its way between the buildings and down the narrow streets of Tarifa, and blowing the kite surfers out to sea. We have promised ourselves an escape. The rhythm of life in this pueblo changes little, and we’re bored of walking round and round inside the old town walls.
