An Iberian Experience - Gibraltar

I think it might be impossible to express in words just how much I loved Gibraltar. Perhaps it was to do with coming from Tangier the day before, or perhaps it was due to the fact that everywhere looked like Cornwall (it even had pasty shops), but whatever it was, I felt an immediate affinity with the place and I'm smiling just now thinking about it!

The first thing I was greeted by were good-old English policemen, Marks & Spencer, red double-decker buses and familiar road markings (but on the wrong side of the road), oh, and a rather English parade (no child soldiers here).



The main street was weird. It was just like any other English highstreet, but it was populated by people speaking Spanish and the whole thing about being on the Meditterean and being towered over by a whacking great block of limestone made it all feel completely surreal.


After having a thoroughly disappointing cream tea - whipped cream I ask you, I decided to climb the Rock and see what it had to offer. The climb up was steep, but the views offered were fantastic, and the monkeys that populate the Rock were worth the climb alone. They're so human in their mannerisms, and they're so placid. I didn't see any evidence of them being aggressive or steeling people's lunches.





After I'd clambered back down, I had an oddly life-affirming experience walking around their Safeways! There must have been something about the nostalgia of them still having a Safeways alongside seeing all the familiar products again that triggered some sort of British pride inside me. I don't often say it, but I really did feel proud to be British walking around. I even took it so far as visiting the oldest pub on the Rock for a drink that evening.

The next day I decided to circumnavigate the peninsular, something that I only discovered was impossible when I got about half way around to be stopped in my tracks by a rather inconveniently placed military installation. It's quite odd, the Rock is so huge, that for half the day, one half of the peninsular is in shadow while the other seems to be covered by an almost semi-permanent dark cloud which I guess is caused by the air coming in off the sea suddenly being forced up and over the Rock. It looks like its wearing a hat from a distance, but it means if you're walking to the other side, you may well need to add (or remove) several layers of clothing!

The most southerly point couldn't have been any less like Tarifa, and was deserted aside from a solitary ice-cream van (there's that British feeling again).



I did though realise there how bad English food generally is. The multitude of signs offering fish & chips, fry ups, curries, burgers etc was such a contrast to what was available in Spain and Portugal (although I think Spanish churros run the fry up close for the lest healthy breakfast award). I had hoped to sample some fish & chips while there, but at the end of the day, it just didn't appeal at all. Could it really be that I'm going off English food having been away for seven months?!

I almost considered cancelling my stopover in Malaga and staying an extra night in Gibraltar, but in the end seeing as Malaga was actually quite nice, I'm glad I didn't. But Gibraltar was that sort of place, it was small, but I felt like I could stay for ages. I even met a lawyer over breakfast who'd moved there from practising in London - so perhaps I might go back eventually after all!

It feels rather like a cop-out to declare that Gibraltar was my favourite place out of those that I visited, but I can't deny that it was. The people, the atmosphere, the place, everything was just great and I guess it all felt rather snug and comfy!

Long live Gibraltar, as they don't say in Spain.