Algeciras is a ferry gateway between Europe and Africa and a recurring point of reference in the novel’s geography of migration. It is not where Driss comes ashore: his crossing begins near Sotogrande, a few miles north of the city. But the ferry, roads, and onward journeys associated with Algeciras make it a hinge between arrival, concealment, and the hope of moving farther north.

A ferry gateway between continents

The opening account places Algeciras on a ferry route from Europe toward Africa. As the land comes into view, Moroccan migrants aboard begin gathering their bags, their anxiety easing at the prospect of home. Their children carry oranges, and secondhand cars stored in the ferry’s hold are ready to be driven ashore. The same approach looks different to the Europeans on deck: their confidence stiffens as Africa appears. The crossing therefore presents Algeciras not just as a transport point but as a threshold where travelers’ unequal expectations meet.

The surrounding coast is described as a passage between bodies of water and worlds. Near the Pillars of Hercules, the Atlantic runs into the Mediterranean; the approaching land feels like a gate through which travelers are drawn. Against that sense of transition, Algeciras is both a recognizable port and part of a larger border crossing.

Driss’s arrival in Spain

Driss recounts his migration to Ismael while they sit in a quarry. He says he jumped from a ship and swam ashore one mile south of the Sotogrande marina. He then walked through the marina and its arcades; the account places it a few miles north of Algeciras. The city marks the nearby coastal geography of his entry, although his landing and first steps on Spanish soil take place elsewhere.

The story first gives Driss’s passage the shape of an apparently easy escape: he moves through the night without being seen and reaches the road beyond the marina. That ease proves temporary. Angela Bloodworth offers him a place to stay at the bed and breakfast she runs with Roger Bloodworth, and Roger later hires him as a gardener for board, lodging, and three hundred euros a month. Because the Spanish police are looking for undocumented workers, the couple restricts Driss to their property. Algeciras thus belongs to the beginning of a journey that quickly turns from clandestine movement into constrained residence.

Routes onward and the limits of mobility

When the tourist season ends and the Bloodworths’ property grows quieter, Driss becomes preoccupied with Paris. He asks Roger about the roads leading there, learning that they cross the mountains into France and cost a great deal to use. He considers seeking a ride with Moroccans traveling north from Algeciras, but he lacks the money to establish himself in Paris. His plan depends on routes that exist in principle yet remain difficult to access for someone without papers, money, or freedom to leave the property.

The novel also invokes Algeciras in connection with movement in the opposite direction. On the road toward Merzouga, Anouar explains that Aït Atta prospect for aquifers and crinoids in the desert. The men of Tafal’aalt, by contrast, deal in trilobites, which attract foreign buyers and can sell for hundreds of euros. This route links Algeciras to a landscape of travel and trade extending inland, where mobility and economic opportunity are unevenly distributed. Across these references, the city is less a destination than a junction in a wider geography of departure, border control, and livelihood.