Barely

Buzzel seemed offended by our decision to leave and wouldn't give us a lift into town. So we had to wait around all day for one of the Swiss women. 

I was beginning to wonder if we would be allowed to go - maybe Buzzel was concocting some nefarious scheme to enslave us and force us to clean his infested barns and caravans for the rest of our lives. 

I was cleaning up cow dung when he appeared on the path in front of his house and stood laughing at me with hands on hips. 

He was completely naked. 

I mustered a horrified failure of a smile before quickly scurrying away, attempting not to look terrified. My mind was filled with nightmares.

Thankfully, none of them came true and to my immense relief, we escaped. The journey with the Swiss woman was a little edgy - she seemed guarded and mistrustful. As she was one of Buzzel's subjects, I answered her probing questions with careful, measured responses. She dropped us off in Tarifa and I revelled in an invigorating wave of relief.

We met up with our German friends Julius and Katja, who were also wwoofing, and agreed to share an apartamento for a few days.