Tarifa

The wind hits you first. Not a gentle coastal breeze, but the levante – a proper wind that whips through the narrow streets of Tarifa's old town with enough force to send café napkins spinning into the air like white butterflies. It's this wind, blowing steady from the east, that has transformed what was once a sleepy fishing village at Spain's southernmost tip into Europe's undisputed capital of kitesurfing and windsurfing.

Stand at the Punta de Tarifa, where the Mediterranean officially meets the Atlantic, and Morocco appears close enough to touch. On clear days – and there are many – the Rif Mountains loom just 14 kilometres across the Strait of Gibraltar, their brown slopes a stark contrast to Tarifa's whitewashed buildings. This proximity to Africa isn't just geographical; it's woven into the town's fabric, from the Moorish battlements of the Castillo de Guzmán el Bueno to the tagines appearing alongside traditional tapas on restaurant menus.

The castle itself, built in the 10th century and expanded after the Christian reconquest, tells the story of Tarifa's strategic importance. Alonso Pérez de Guzmán earned his epithet "el Bueno" here in 1294 when, defending the fortress against Moorish forces, he threw down his own dagger to facilitate the execution of his captured son rather than surrender. Today, the castle's ramparts offer views across the strait where container ships queue to enter the Mediterranean, their progress slow and stately against the churning waters.

Down in the old town, the morning fish market operates much as it has for centuries. Local wives arrive early to claim the best catches before restaurants descend, and the air fills with rapid-fire Andalusian Spanish, the accents as strong as the coffee served in the nearby bars. The tuna here isn't just any tuna – it's atún rojo de almadraba, caught using an ancient Phoenician technique that channels the fish into a maze of nets during their spring migration. The resulting meat, deep red and almost buttery, appears on every menu worth its salt during the April to June season.

But Tarifa's relationship with the sea extends far beyond fishing. The consistent winds that frustrate sunbathers have created a multi-million-euro watersports industry. Los Lances beach stretches for ten kilometres northwest of town, its golden sand dotted with hundreds of kites on windy days. The sight resembles a colourful invasion, each kite tethered to a wetsuit-clad enthusiast dancing across the water. Beginners flail in the shallows while professionals launch themselves 20 metres into the air, their aerial acrobatics drawing applause from beachfront cafés.

This transformation from fishing village to watersports mecca hasn't been entirely smooth. Property prices have risen sharply, pushing many young locals north to cheaper towns like Algeciras. The seasonal nature of the industry means Tarifa still struggles in winter, when strong winds and Atlantic storms drive away all but the most dedicated kitesurfers. Visitors arriving in January might find half the restaurants shuttered and streets deserted after 10 pm.

Yet when conditions align – and they often do between May and October – Tarifa feels electric. The town hums with languages: German, Dutch, French and English mingle with Spanish in the bars along Calle Santísima Trinidad. Here, dinner starts late, as per Andalusian custom, but the food rewards the wait. At El Francés, a simple bar on a narrow street, aubergines arrive layered with local goat's cheese and drizzled with honey that cuts through the richness. The grilled octopus, tender rather than rubbery, speaks of a kitchen that understands timing.

Vegetarians won't starve, but they'll need to be strategic. Many dishes that sound meat-free arrive sprinkled with jamón, and the concept of vegetarianism can still draw puzzled looks from older waiters. However, newer restaurants along the pedestrianised Calle Independencia offer proper plant-based options alongside traditional fare, reflecting Tarifa's evolving tourist demographic.

The wind isn't merely an inconvenience – it's a force that shapes daily life. When the levante blows hard, typically three days out of seven in summer, locals develop headaches and irritability they attribute to the pressure. Restaurants rush to weight down menus and napkins. Beach walkers lean into gusts that sandblast exposed skin. Yet without it, Tarifa would be just another Costa del Sol resort, indistinguishable from the concrete developments further east.

Instead, the wind has preserved something essential. The beaches remain largely unspoiled, backed by dunes rather than high-rises. The old town's medieval street plan survives intact, its whitewashed houses decorated with flowerpots that somehow flourish despite the salt air. Even the modern watersports centres, sprawling complexes of neoprene and fibreglass, are concentrated on the town's periphery, leaving the centre to its maze of narrow streets and sudden glimpses of sea.

For those seeking culture over adrenaline, the Roman ruins at Baelo Claudia, twenty minutes northwest, provide context to Tarifa's long relationship with the sea. This former fish-salting factory, active from the 2nd century BC, once exported garum – fermented fish sauce – across the Roman Empire. The ruins, dramatically positioned beside the beach at Bolonia, include a complete street grid, temples and the outlines of fish-salting vats. Entry costs €1.50, and the on-site museum explains how this remote outpost connected to imperial trade networks.

Back in town, the evening paseo sees locals emerge as winds drop and temperatures moderate. Families stroll the battlements, grandparents walking hand-in-hand with toddlers while teenagers gather in groups, checking phones and each other with equal interest. The atmosphere feels authentically Spanish in a way that coastal resorts further north lost decades ago. Here, at Europe's southern edge, Tarifa maintains its identity despite the winds of change – or perhaps because of them.