We waited around Ibiza for the better part of a week, waiting for a new anchor to show up and for a weather window. The weather window arrived. The anchor did not.

While we waited, we rented a car and spent the weekend playing tourist. On Saturday, we stopped into a sardine festival, intending to stay an hour or two, but actually ending up making a day of it. While eating, we chatted up a lady who had moved from the US to Ibiza as a baby with expat parents, and she told us where to drive for the big time scenery.

On Sunday, we did that drive, and even a little hike. Heather has come a long way from being wheelchaired through airports a couple of months ago.

The Northern coast of Ibiza is really beautiful. It's got the sheer-cliff awesomeness we saw in Nova Scotia with tropical-looking blue and turquoise water at the end of it all.

Other than the festival, the island was not too lively. Things are not quite open for the tourist season yet.

After dark on Tuesday, we gave up on UPS ever delivering the anchor that they had been holding since the previous Thursday, so we set sail. We had a relatively uneventful passage to Cartegena, on mainland Spain, and now we sit, waiting for another hellacious wind to pass.

I like how we've managed to be in port for weekends. I'd much rather be on work calls and transforming data while rolling through the sea, leaving my weekends to walk and explore old cities.

Parking the dinghy back in its garage.

The coast of continental Spain.

Cartagena