It was hot.  The heat too intense, so I motioned him away, wandering now into the surf.   "Follow me, darling," I called to him.  Follow me out to the edge of the world, into the watery depths, this origin of exploration and empire.   This place, marked by waves alone, where Asia, Africa and Europe meet, the heat of the Mediterranean crashing into the icy waters of the Atlantic.  And so it was here I heard them, too.  The Gypsy Kings playing ashore, their rhythm pounding out the current, the power of three continents, washing me up to my waste, now splashing near my shoulders.