Backpacking through Europe in 1994

Day 86 • December 1, 1994
Rota, Spain

The days in Rota were starting to blur together in the best way. There was no itinerary, no train to catch, and no rush to be anywhere else. For the first time since I left Nebraska, I wasn’t measuring time in departures and arrivals. It felt almost like I was hanging out at Jeff’s home back in Kearney.

We spent most of the day moving without much purpose. A walk here, a drink there, long stretches of conversation that jumped from old high school stories to whatever we were feeling in the moment. Jeff had changed in some ways since I last saw him, but in the important ones he was still the same guy I used to cruise around Kearney with on Friday nights. The same dry humor, the same way of cutting through bullshit when I needed it.

That night we went out again. Nothing wild, just the two of us moving through the small bars and late-night spots near the base. The alcohol loosened things up, and at some point the conversation turned heavier — the kind of talk that only happens when you’ve known someone long enough to not have to perform. We didn’t solve anything, but we didn’t need to. It was enough to say the things out loud that had been sitting in both of us for years.

My Photographs from today in Rota, Spain

Rota from the Dunes Rota has a long history as a Spanish naval town on the Bay of Cádiz. Since 1953 it has also been home to a major U.S. Naval Station, where Jeff was stationed. From the dunes t

Rota from the Dunes

Rota has a long history as a Spanish naval town on the Bay of Cádiz. Since 1953 it has also been home to a major U.S. Naval Station. From the dunes the white buildings of the town stretched along the Mediterranean coast, the sea meeting the hills in a quiet, beautiful stretch of southern Spain.

Strategic Shores

The long beach and dunes of Rota stretched out under the gray sky. The U.S. established a major naval station here in 1953 as part of the Cold War alliance with Spain, giving American forces a strategic base on the Bay of Cádiz for submarines, aircraft, and logistics in the Mediterranean and Atlantic.

Rota

The town of Rota sits on the Atlantic coast of southern Spain, with around 29,000 residents. Its economy has long been shaped by fishing, tourism, and the large U.S. Naval Station established here in 1953. The white buildings climbed the hillside above the beach, a quiet resort town that also served as a strategic military outpost on the Bay of Cádiz.

The Promenade

The long promenade ran along the beach with palm trees swaying and the town stretching out in the distance. A perfect place to walk and watch the Mediterranean roll in.

Moorish Influence

Rota’s architecture shows the deep imprint of its Moorish past — whitewashed walls, flat roofs, arched doorways, and simple, elegant lines that have survived centuries. Located just across the Strait of Gibraltar from North Africa, the town was under Muslim rule for hundreds of years before the Christian reconquest. Even today you can see that North African influence in the light-colored buildings, narrow streets, and overall Mediterranean character of the town.

A Church in Rota

The bell tower of one of Rota’s old churches stood in the foreground while the hill rose behind it, topped with a statue overlooking the town. A classic view of the whitewashed Andalusian architecture that defines this corner of southern Spain.

Hilltop Statue

A prominent statue stood on the rocky hill above Rota, keeping watch over the town and the coast. These kinds of hilltop monuments are common in Andalusia, often dedicated to religious figures or local heroes, visible from miles around.

Andalusian Countryside

The rolling hills and open fields surrounding Rota, typical of the Andalusian landscape. This quiet countryside offered peaceful views during my stay in southern Spain.

Spanish Payphone

A classic Telefónica payphone from the 1990s.

DAY 86 / 12-1-94
Rota, Spain

Two more weeks & I’ll be home. Wow, that seems so unreal. Fuck, it seems so unreal that I was walking along the beaches of Southern Spain today! And that I’ve walked through Ireland, Northern Ireland, England, France, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Norway, Germany & Italy!!!

Wow. I fucking amaze myself! I can’t believe I pulled this off! A year ago it was just a dream, and here it is today, almost over. It’s so hard to describe this feeling of jubilation and exaltation I have, especially compared to my feelings of depression and disillusionment 15 months ago.

And unlike Australia or ASU, I’m ready for it to be over & ready to be home. I’m ready to wrap it up & put a bow on it & set it on my mantlepiece, then go sit down, take a deep breath, and admire it.

And I don’t feel the least bit pangs of egotism as I say “Damn, it’s worth admiring. Todd, You did it, and no one, ever, can take that away from you.”

I’ve always been so insecure about myself, probably always will be. But this experience will go a long way in easing those feelings, and it has changed the course of my life.

Well, enough philosophizing. These last 2 weeks should be very relaxing and vacation-like. Today sure was.

Woke up at 11 [am]. After playing some football, I went for a bike ride. I rode along the beach, through the town, & along another beach for an hour or so.

Then I read the newspaper, played golf with Eric until Jeff got home. We took their dog, Harley the boxer, down to the beach, and watched “Mr. Baseball” when we came back.

Their landlady, Salvadora, whom I met last night, brought me a plate of pieta, a Spanish dish of rice, meat, shrimp & calamari – squid. It was very good & extremely nice of her.

Jeff & I played 1 more game of football before he & Vic went to bed. I’ve been writing in this & listening to Rush. Now I’m going to watch “Breaking the Rules” before going to sleep.

Mr. Baseball is a 1992 American sports comedy film directed by Fred Schepisi, starring Tom Selleck, Ken Takakura, Dennis Haysbert, and Aya Takanashi. It depicts a tumultuous season in the career of veteran New York Yankees first baseman Jack Elliot (Selleck), who is traded to the Chunichi Dragons of the Japanese Central League during Spring Training, and forced to contend with overwhelming expectations and cultural differences during the Dragons' run at the pennant.

Breaking the Rules is a 1992 American drama film starring Jason Bateman, C. Thomas Howell, Jonathan Silverman and Annie Potts.

Phil (Bateman) is a cancer-stricken man who tricks his two best friends, Gene (Howell) and Rob (Silverman), whom he hasn't seen in a long time, to go on a road trip, by inviting them to a fake engagement party. This has the potential for problems because Gene once stole Rob's girlfriend. Phil gets them to be friends again. He tells them of his illness and all three decide to go to Los Angeles for Phil's dying wish: to be a contestant on Jeopardy! On the way there they meet an attractive wild woman with a heart of gold (Potts).

Looking Back from 2026

These slower days in Rota with Jeff were some of the most important of the entire trip, even if they didn’t feel dramatic at the time.

After months of constant movement, missed connections, and the low-level stress of not knowing where I’d sleep or how I’d get to the next place, being able to simply exist with my best friend felt like a gift. We didn’t have to perform or explain ourselves. We could just talk — sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything — and it didn’t need to lead anywhere. That kind of easy, deep friendship is rare, and I was lucky to have it waiting for me at the end of the hardest stretch of the journey.

I think part of what made these days hit so hard was how much they showed me what I had been missing. Not just the comfort of familiar things or speaking English without thinking, but the feeling of being known. Jeff had seen me at my worst back in Kearney and still showed up for me without hesitation. That mattered more than I could fully understand at twenty-three.

Looking back now, I can see how these final weeks in Spain were quietly doing work on me. The tattoo I got during this stretch wasn’t just a souvenir — it was a marker. A small, permanent reminder that I had made it through something difficult and was still standing. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of the version of myself who kept going when it would have been easier to quit.

These days with Jeff didn’t change the fact that the trip was almost over. But they gave me something I didn’t know I needed: a soft landing before I had to face whatever came next. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

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