The Rock, Gibraltar
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Day Trip To Gibraltar & Other Stories 

Sausage, bacon and egg in a bun, a little dash of brown sauce, a sweetened cappuccino: hangover cure par excellence. It’s needed, last night was a long night and today is going to be a long day. But we can’t be this close to Gibraltar without making a visit – the first visit to an overseas British territory for either of us.

San Luis de Sabinillas on the Costa delSol, Spain
San Luis de Sabinillas

Our base now is the coastal town of San Luis de Sabinillas on the Costa del Sol, for our last taste of the Spanish Mediterranean on this long journey south. We’ve chosen this location not just for one last dip in the blue but for two other reasons as well: firstly to make that trip to Gibraltar, and secondly to meet up with Jo. Jo is an old friend and colleague of Michaela’s who moved out to Spain some fourteen years ago, and it’s a long time since they’ve seen each other.

Emotional reunions soon give way to rounds of drinks and a long night is underway, in fact Jo and her partner Darren keep us up way, way beyond an old man’s bedtime. I can scarcely believe my eyes as I crawl into bed and realise it’s almost 3am – neither of us can even remember the last time a night out lasted until such a naughty hour! In truth we may not remember too much about this one either.

Once the ever reliable hangover cure has done its work we’re off down the coast to a little piece of Britain in the sun. On the advice of Jo and Darren we leave the car on the Spanish side of the border and go through passport control on foot – entering Gibraltar on foot means that the first thing you do on the British side is walk right across the centre of the main runway of Gibraltar airport, which in itself is a bit of an odd feeling, strolling across the runway while the Easyjet aircraft roars its engines and prepares to fly.

Approaching the rock of Gibraltar across the runway
Crossing the runway towards The Rock
Entering Gibraltar
Entering Gibraltar

Approaching the famous rock and its surrounding metropolis is actually quite a sight – a genuinely unusual panorama around a rock which is both instantly recognisable and an awful lot bigger than we had imagined. It’s an imposing mass; little wonder ancient sailors believed that the end of the Earth lay just beyond the Straits of Gibraltar. 

Casemates Square in Gibraltar
Casemates Square, Gibraltar

Coming into the town centre via the main square and into the streets, we are expecting Gibraltar to look and feel like Britain did a couple of decades ago, but in reality it’s not really like that at all. Yes there’s some red double decker buses and some red phone boxes, but otherwise Gibraltar is a mix of British and Spanish, with both languages, both currencies and both cuisines in evidence. In other words, it’s not so different from the Costa del Sol towns the other side of the border.

With just a few hours here we opt for a minibus tour for part of our day – pricey but at least we’ll get to see everything we want to, including the obligatory visit to the top to see the famous macaque monkeys, Europe’s only wild monkey colony. Never mind these little fellas, the views from here are amazing, both out to sea and along the coast in both directions. The macaques are rather well behaved, carefully taking food from the hands of people rather than raiding and stealing like they normally do.

The rock of Gibraltar is one of the two “pillars of Hercules”, the other being Jebel Musa in Morocco, between them forming the gateway between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Beyond here to the west was where early explorers and sailors feared to venture, the end of the flat Earth was out there in the great blue expanse, waiting to claim the lives of those who ventured too far and fell off the end. To this day, the shipping area out in this vast beyond is called “Finisterre”, literally meaning “end of the Earth”.

The Pillars of Hercules, Gibraltar
View from the Rock
View Across to Spain from the tunnels of Gibraltar
Looking back towards Costa del Sol
View Across to Spain from Gibraltar
Gibraltar and beyond

St Michael’s Cave, on the way up to top of the Rock, was once prepared in readiness for war as a military hospital, though was never in fact used for that purpose. Nowadays, the terrific display of stalactites and stalagmites forms the backdrop to a sound and light show every 20 minutes or so – all very touristy but quite cool to witness nonetheless.

Saint Michael’s Cave in Gibraltar
Saint Michael’s Cave

Coming down the tiny one way lane over the rock brings us to the entrance to the World War II tunnels, sections of which are open to the public and form a fascinating subterranean walk. As a front line at the edge of the continent and a base for the British Army, Gibraltar was a target for Hitler and a strategic part of the Allies’ defence. The interior of the rock is a positive honeycomb, with 34 miles of tunnels capable of housing 16,000 troops and holding out against invasion for 16 months.

Remarkably the aggregate length of the tunnels is almost double the total length of Gibraltar’s roadways. Although the first tunnels were excavated in the 18th century, most of them were completed over two years of WW2: several of these underground streets and interchanges are named after places back home, mostly in London. Maida Vale, Baker Street, Clapham Junction.

WWII tunnels in Gibraltar
WWII tunnels

WWII tunnels in Gibraltar
WWII tunnels

We opt to walk back down to town from the tunnels, via the castle. Even though we took the minibus option we end up walking more than 11 miles over the course of the day, not bad after a 3am bedtime. In town, preparations are underway for tomorrow, Gibraltar’s National Day, and it’s clear that it’s going to be one BIG party. We’ll stay out of it, we’ve partied enough for one weekend.

Gibraltar National day Celebrations

The fish’n’chip signs are out, vying for position with albondigas and Spanish omelette, or pizza, or curry. Gibraltar is a marriage of cultures rather than a distinctive culture of its own, though apparently true Gibraltarians speak in a dialect which is difficult for both Brits and Spaniards alike to understand, and is, amusingly, the origin of our word “gibberish”.

With Gibraltar done, we make one last visit to a beautiful mountain village, Casares, which has possibly even more steep hills than the daft inclines we’ve seen elsewhere. It’s a beautiful little village though, with Moorish architecture as evident here as it was in Granada.

Casares Pueblo, Spain
Casares Pueblo
Casares Pueblo
Casares Pueblo
View from Casares Pueblo, Spain
View from Casares Pueblo

Casares is a quiet little place where we are amongst just a handful of visitors, unlike Mijas where we called in en route to the coast from Granada. Mijas was alive, not just with day trippers from the likes of Fuengirola, but with its own fiesta in full swing – turns out today is their patron Saint’s day. As we’ve seen many times on this trip, any excuse for a fiesta will do, so a special Saint’s Day is a given. 

Casares Pueblo, Spain
Casares Pueblo

Casares Pueblo, Spain
Casares Pueblo

White bunting adorns the streets which are full of ladies in traditional Spanish dress, temporary bars fill the squares and the beer and sangria is flowing. We seem to have seen similar scenes several times over the last few weeks.

Mijas, Spain
Mijas

Mijas, Spain
Mijas

And so to our last day in San Luis de Sabinillas. One last swim in the Mediterranean – a colder dip here with the Atlantic waters mixing in – and a farewell drink with Jo and Darren, and we move on to our last destination on this long journey through Spain. 

It’s Seville next.

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