Rota, Spain

Rota is an ancient city that sits on the Bay of Cadiz, approximately 100km northwest from the Strait of Gibraltar, where Africa looms a mere 7.7 nautical miles from the edge of the European Continent. 

It so happened that we visited during Feria, or Spring Festival—a carnival for the changing of seasons.  Feria is a big deal.  It is where local women wear traditional Spanish dresses and twirl their bodies before spectators of families who eat fried chicken and paella and clink glasses of blood-red Sangria inside rows of themed tents.  Young children chase each other while older ones try to win prizes by knocking over bottles with BB guns.  Above their heads: millions of colored lights are strung between massive yellow archways, which themselves were studded with brilliant multicolored bulbs that made the sunset look like it’d been sprinkled with gemstones.  

What’s impressive about Rota is how it doesn’t try to impress its visitors.  There isn’t any opulence.  There aren’t any resorts with waiters who deliver $14 daiquiris to your beach chair.  Instead, the beaches are lined with humble restaurants and cervecerias that serve local food at local prices.  My favorite dish (which I ate two nights in a row) was garlic fried chicken, and it was undoubtedly the best chicken I’ve ever had.  For eight euro. 

Hope to see you again soon, Rota.