Got up and went to the tourist bureau to find out about the fare to Centa, Spanish Morocco. The boat wasn't leaving until 7pm so we went to Gibraltar and then back to Algeciras to pack and back again to Gibraltar to leave our luggage with the American Express correspondent and Pat’s watch to be cleaned. When we went back to the border at Algeciras, we discovered that we were allowed only three crossings in three months and we were on our third and last one in two days. That was terrible news because our luggage was still on the Rock. Fortunately we discovered a very inconvenient way out. We had to take the ferry from Algeciras to Gibraltar and, if you take the ferry, you can cross as many times as you wish. Rather stupid, but that’s the way it is. By 7pm we had everything together and drove Louie [the car] on to the ferry to Centa. We decided to remain in him with our stuff since there were so many people wandering around. Got to Centa around 8:30 or 8:45. Had one hell of a time finding a place to stay and what we found was awful
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