What a crying shame.
Position: 36:32.503N 004:36.973W – Fuengirola, Spain
At midnight there were the annual fireworks for the Festival of San Juan. We're on the end pontoon nearest the breakwater where the fireworks were placed so DecaDance's beanbags had prime position for the display.
I phoned Aunty Christine at about midday to let her know that we'd decided to move on tomorrow and amongst other things she asked if it was misty where we were (only several miles away), as they'd just watched fog roll down the mountains. I'd just nearly blinded myself by not wearing my sunglasses to and from the shower block, so I said no. No more than two minutes after getting off the phone, Chris shouted down to me, "Cripes, you can't see a thing up here."
The San Juan festival is so important locally that many restaurants and bars close early for the one and only night out of 365. Bonfires are lit along the beach and there's a tradition for children to go paddling in the sea at midnight. By then visibility had reduced to about 50-75m according to Chris (these mariner types know this sort of thing), and according to me, pea soup.
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