Cadiz

When we picked our apartment here (last night at 11pm) we had two choices; an over the top expensive €135, super stylish apartment in the old quarter of town on a gorgeous mall, or a dog box with a graffitied entrance and reviews that said the rooms were pungent with the smell of stale cigarette. We have only been shelling out about €60 a night, so forking out more than twice this was quite painful, but we eventfully twisted our own arms. 

Cadiz is the oldest continually inhabited civilisation in the world. So, the charming old part has naturally extended down the coast to take advantage of the beautiful beach, but it doesn't have quite the charm of the old, old quarter on the peninsula. As we drove through the outskirts of Cadiz, it felt like nothing more than the bad parts of the Gold Coast, not where Lisa, Rob and Willow live, of course. So we were pleased we had bled euros to get a taste of the true culture and community of Cadiz. This is the big wall that separates the riff raff from the old quarter. It's a bit over the top, but I guess it's necessary.

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Admittedly, it's just the old castle wall, but it does serve an unintentional purpose thesedays. We walked ground the esplanade, taking in views of the Atlantic Ocean. and Karl had a swim at the beach. It was too cold for.. "Matisse"... So I offered to stay on the beach and watch her. Ok. Ok. It was too cold for me. I'm not ashamed to admit it, I've seen Titanic, where Leo freezes to death in the water, I wasn't about to take any risks... Karl is his own human being. 

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It was Robin's birthday.  As my favourite boss of all time , unofficial mentor, all round legend, and in the absence of my biological father, Robin has earned the title "ConocoPhillips Dad." On the other side of the world he was turning 60, so we had sought out a beach so I could make this photo for him. 

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When I returned from doing so, I found Karl in the beach showers with....no less than TWO topless Spanish women. I didn't take a picture of that for obvious reasons. And for the sake of clarity, it was no more than two either. Karl was full of excuses as I ribbed him for it. All I heard was blah blah blah.

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 Beautiful gardens isn't manicured trees line the foreshore.

Beautiful gardens isn't manicured trees line the foreshore.

Dinner was probably our best meal in Spain, with the exception of Bridget's homemade breakfast smorgasbords in San Sebastián. We had duck, dates, fig, lamb, and some other exotic bird for dinner. Complimentary dessert, wonderful service and Matisse amusing herself the entire time were three unexpected miracles that capped the perfection off. 

 Old quarter streets

Old quarter streets

The walk home was full of action. First the sun was kissing these buildings, they were positively glowing. Spain is full of people kissing so it didn't surprise me the sun was getting into the action with a public display of affection for buildings.

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This actually happens to be the "shitty part of town" that I mentioned before. Doesn't look so bad? That's what happens when you are in paradise. Next we stumbled across drumming practise on the beach, people fishing and the sunset. The only thing one cod possibly whinge about is how icy cold that Atlantic wind is in the evening. Brrrrrrr.

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We were almost back at the apartment when a commotion caught my ear. We hunted down the noise to find a marching band following some kind of religious float down the street. I weaved through some side streets to get to the front of the procession and see more. I went to film it to capture how insanely noisy it was, but my camera died. Damn Matisse and all those selfies she was taking at the beach. I still have no idea what it was. 

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Afterwards, Karl and I were trying to figure out what it meant. I don't know if I was so full from dinner that I began hallucinating, but I thought it was a casket, with a Jesus statue holding a rifle on the top, so this had me off on all kinds of tangents. Karl was beside himself with disbelief, and unfortunately we charged up my camera battery and it turns out he was right. It was not a rifle, but a crucifix with Jesus on it. I felt so evil. No wonder I was cold in all those churches. 

 We had to go past this church on the way home from the 'parade' and I felt so cold. Damn that Atlantic breeze. 

We had to go past this church on the way home from the 'parade' and I felt so cold. Damn that Atlantic breeze.