It’s Thursday, the 24th of May. Since the days and nights are hot the windows are wide open and thus I wake up to the sounds of a busy morning in Granada. I’m staying here with some students, one friend from Poland and another from Italy. At breakfast I meet them, and of course they ask me what I’ll be doing today. I reply that’s it time to leave beautiful Andalucia with it’s palmtrees, lazy Spanish, delicious tapa’s, and great alternative atmosphere in the street. It’s time to go south, make some stops to visit an old friend from meditation in Malaga, see the small English settlement on a rock on the south of Spain, and then hitch a boat to Africa. This continent is so close, how could I ever have waited so long with going there anyway?

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