Spain's Gateway to Morocco : Algeciras.

In my youths, I journeyed to France with my mum, pa and granny for a month of sightseeing with a rental auto. This was especially difficult in France, that has a gazillion things to see. I will have to refer back to my Wayfarer Travel Book , but let's go. As I lay on my bed, I observed the rain come down hard on the windows. I also admired the old, intricate wood structure that was our hotel. I snoozed off and was awaken some hours later by my granny. Like a bad comedy, I put one leg up on the wall and pulled again.

It is not a pretty town, but it is a nearly fiercely individual one with a completely unique and colourful personality. The cafes here have a tendency to be both glorious and cheap, and many have perfect perspectives of the Rock of Gibraltar. And though visiting dignitaries today are likely to fly over than stay in Algeciras, its tourist industry is growing. After being hung up on twice, it occurred to me the pronunciation of my last name means "hat" in French. Intensely cussing up a hurricane, I walked over to the doorway and banged it with my fist. Halfway thru the story, my mum plugged in her hair dryer, flipped it on and blew out the electricity for the complete floor. Rick Chapo is with B&B - makers of travel books.