Departing from Malaga, our vessel, the splendid Legato, gracefully navigates toward Gibraltar—the ultimate destination on my Mediterranean odyssey. The time has come to disembark this maritime haven, my abode for a month. A recent addition to our crew, Alessandro, an IT professional hailing from Treviso, north of Venice, mirrors my tech-centric background. Fleeing the monotony of screen-bound toil, Alessandro, armed with an intimate Bavaria sailing boat, envisages conquering the Atlantic, his unfulfilled dream metamorphosing into reality. Today’s anticipated passage spans a mere 9 hours, predominantly propelled by motor power due to the scarcity of winds.
In the morning, a terrestrial sojourn awaits, as I traverse from Gibraltar to Tarifa. From there, a ferry voyage over the Strait of Gibraltar shall transport me to the African expanse, specifically the Moroccan enclave of Tangier. Embarking on a vehicular exploration, the ancient cities of Tangier, Chefchaouen, the erstwhile capital Fes, the gateway to the Sahara—Merzouga, and the historical imperial bastion, Marrakech, lay on my trajectory.
These Moroccan narratives, woven through time, recount the ebb and flow of power between Fes and Marrakech, as they took turns being capitals of independent states or the unified Morocco. This historical tango unfolded over centuries, with the city of Rabat eventually seizing the throne. Culminating my Moroccan escapade, the sprawling metropolis of Casablanca will serve as my launching pad for an oceanic journey to Canada.
Six weeks of expedition have elapsed akin to a fleeting day. A tinge of melancholy permeates the realization that soon I’ll bid adieu to the Legato and its captain, Aristide—a compatriot turned confidant and mentor. The trajectory of his voyage shall remain a narrative I eagerly pursue, holding out hope for our paths to intersect anew.
In the interim, adieu, Spain! I entertain aspirations of a subsequent return, ideally after honing my Spanish linguistic prowess, wherein I shall immerse myself not only within the confines of tourist havens but also amid the bucolic expanse of the countryside. Andalusia, the very crucible of flamenco (derived from the Latin ‘flamma’—fire), beckons. Here, local artisans infuse this art form with an emotional fervor and unrestrained passion so palpable that, even without deciphering the lyrical intricacies, one is inevitably swayed by its evocative ambiance. While the music and dance transcend international boundaries, the lyrical verses are articulated in the distinctive Andalusian dialect, a linguistic tapestry markedly distinct from the broader Spanish tongue.
As we bid adieu to the sun-kissed shores of Andalusia, a symbolic transition unfolds—exchanging the Spanish courtesy flag for its English counterpart (owing to the elusive Gibraltar flag). The dawn witnessed an earnest culinary inquisition, spearheaded by the captain and Alessandro, delving into the nuances of preparing meals for those not particularly adept in the culinary arts. Unexpectedly, over the voyage’s course, I garnered an unexpected reputation as a discerning gastronome. Offering insights into provisioning and the culinary potential therein, I remain optimistic that culinary endeavors will flourish, contingent on their meteorological fortunes. In tempestuous seas, culinary pursuits are, undeniably, the last on one’s agenda.
A propitious breeze, boasting a velocity of 14 knots, gracefully envelops us, prompting the unfurling of sails and the cessation of the engine’s rhythmic hum. A visually resplendent tableau unfolds! The anticipation heightens as we eagerly await the imminent arrival of our aquatic companions, the dolphins.
The captivating sight of Gibraltar looms on the horizon, its colossal rock formation casting a commanding presence. The toponym Gibraltar, an Hispanized rendition of the Arabic “Jabal Ṭāriq” (Mountain of Tariq), reveres the Berber-Arab military commander Tariq ibn Ziyad. This historical figure led the Arab conquest of the Iberian Peninsula from 711 to 718 CE, making landfall at the Rock of Gibraltar—an enduring testament to his legacy.
The day of separation from Captain Aristide, the Legato, and the crew unfolds. A convivial dinner hosted by the captain marked the denouement of my voyage with them. Their trajectory charts a course to Madeira, onward to the Canary Islands, and ultimately, with fellow participants in the ARC regatta, a transatlantic sojourn to the Caribbean. As for me, with the dawn, a bus ride beckons to Algeciras (Al-Jazira in Arabic), where a ferry awaits to ferry me across to Morocco.
In retrospect, Captain Aristide, through the platform that connected us, shall pen a farewell that encapsulates the essence of our shared voyage.
