Across the oceans, from a small lighthouse

I walked to the edge of the cliff, the furious winds pushing me. I reached the white stunted wall running along the cliff edge, enclosing the short white and red lighthouse and obligatory congested gift shop, and leaned forward onto my elbows.
Vaguely aware that I was looking out to sea from the very beginning of an entire continent, the almost vertical 75 metre-high cliffs of Sagres forming the most south-westerly point of Europe, my surroundings suddenly became infinitesimal.
Gazing out over the turbulent but crystal sea, I pondered the historical importance of Cape St Vincent and the treacherous journeys sea men such as Christopher Columbus and Horatio Nelson must have endured during their various battles and explorations. I wondered whether they would have been guided by the lighthouse standing not 10 metres from me. I could picture late-medieval ships boisterously powered by their majestic sails, crashing into the waves.
I looked up at the solitary lighthouse gleaming against the cloudless sky. I noticed a child enthusiastically pointing out towards an unspecific area of the sea whilst looking through a coin-operated viewfinder. “I can see our house!” he shouted. His parents, wearing baseball caps and jumpers tied loosely around their shoulders, laughed. “That thing must be good if you can see Florida from it!”
That made me contemplate the lands which lay beyond this sea. I imagined what continent the current would take me to if I was stranded at sea. I pondered all the possibilities, all the people of each country, what each person was doing at that exact moment in time. Numerous cultures, languages, religions altering due to geographical location. Cities, jungles, deserts, mountains, grasslands. From westerners continuously demonstrating the wastefulness of wealthy post industrial society, to the ancient tribes existing in the most primitive ways, preserving the true essence of humanity. I wanted to know – were they gazing out over the sea from their part of the world, contemplating the meaning of their lives, wondering if there was something else better out there?
I dragged myself back across the ocean to the here and now, and passed by the lighthouse, haunted by memories of historical fatal naval battles. Walking slowly along the gravel area, as I passed wind-ravaged stall owners selling thick colourful jumpers and blankets, I got back into my hired car and drove along the isolated dust track to the next historical monument.