El puente de septiembre

They had planned the September long weekend in Cádiz since the summer began, with the idea of lying in the sun and swimming all weekend. They arrived at the hostel on Friday afternoon and the owner, a woman about sixty, gave them the keys with a smile and wished them a good weekend. Saturday dawned cloudy and the wind was blowing hard. 'This doesn't look good,' said Marcos while looking at the sky. Mid-morning it started to rain and they had to take shelter in a bar near the promenade. There, an elderly local man heard them talking about the beach and told them: 'If you want to see something truly beautiful, go to the Birds' Cove. It's hidden, but it's worth it.' Marcos and Carla looked at each other. They didn't have a Plan B and the rain didn't seem like it was going to stop. 'We could try,' said Carla shrugging. They went back to the hostel to ask the owner how to get there. She smiled and drew a map on a napkin. The trail was narrow and slippery from the rain. Sometimes they had to hold onto the rocks to keep from falling, but the landscape was stunning. When they reached the cove, it stopped raining and the sun broke through the clouds. The water was turquoise and the rocks formed a natural pool. 'Good thing we didn't stay at the beach,' said Marcos. Carla nodded. Sometimes a failed plan is the best plan of all.