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Published: November 15th 2012
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We started out early this day as we had a 3 hour drive to Gibraltar ahead of us. Thanks to the GPS, a series of roundabouts, and a missed exit that took us about an hour out of the way, we ended up in a little country town named Las Cazebas deSan Juan that is built up on a mountain, with the church situated at the very top.
Back on the autovia and headed in the right direction this time, we drove through vineyards, farmlands, cattle ranches, wind turbine farms, and peaks and valleys of the mountains. We even passed a castle, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We spent the majority of the drive oohing and aahing at the marvelous Spanish countryside. Each time we went through a tunnel, we would come out and be greeted by an incredible view, with each one progressively better. After exiting the final tunnel, we were given our first glimpse of the Rock of Gibraltar, and what an awesome sight it was.
I felt the same giddiness that I get with that first glimpse of Magic Kingdom in Walt Disney World. It doesn't matter that I've been there several times, there's always
something about that first glimpse that touches that inner kid in you. Well, like I said, I got the same feeling when I first saw "Da Rock." We couldn't get there fast enough.
After parking, we began our ardorous walk into the town of Gibraltar. It was then that I really noticed that we were no longer in Spain and that we had literally walked across the border into another country - the United Kingdom. Everything changed - the people, the language, the signage, and most important - the currency.
We finally reached the town square, a wide open plaza area flanked by restaurants, outdoor seating, and souvenir shops. I can't say that I was overly impressed with this area. In fact, I was kind of disappointed. It struck me as dirty and touristy. It was nothing like the first plaza we saw in Cadiz. We grabbed a quick bite to eat and then arranged for a van tour of the rock.
Our tour driver was an interesting fellow - a Spanish native, but a resident/citizen of Gibraltar. He navigated the narrow, and I do mean hold-your-breath-and-don't-look-down-over-the-edge NARROW, winding road around the rock with the finesse and
expertise of a NASCAR driver. I couldn't get to my rosary fast enough so I had to silently pray that we made it off that rock in one piece.
Our first stop was the Pillars of Hercules. This was our first opportunity to look over the town and across the Straits of Gibraltar to see North Africa. Despite the general dreariness of the overcast skies, it was a beautiful site.
We then raced further up the rock to our next stop - the Caves of St. Michael. Our driver told us that we had 15-20 minutes in there so we had to get moving. It was at this stop where we first saw the rock's inhabitants - the monkeys. They were certainly not afraid of humans and had no problem with getting into your personal space. We were told on several occasions, they can and may touch you but you cannot touch them. One person learned the hard way. I didn't see what happened, but I certainly heard her when she exclaimed "that monkey bit the shit out of me!" LOL. About the caves. What can I say? They were fascinating. There was actually an ampitheater and stage
carved/built in there. Talk about a cool place to hold a party or something.
Back in the van, we rocked, and I do mean ROCKED, as in jerked forward and side-to-side, up the rock to our next stop - a narrow flat area about as far to the top as we could go. This provided THE MOST AWESOME 360 degree panoramic view of, what seemed like, the entire world. This was also the point where yours truly decided to stay in the van. There's high, and then there's HIGH! And then there was also the incredibly narrow road that was encompassed by the width of the van. You may have a foot or so between the van and a portion of the rock wall. I cannot stress how narrow it was up there. Anyway, while in the van, I thought to myself - "I didn't come all the way here to be afraid of heights. This opportunity may never come again, and I don't want to spend my life thinking about what I could have or should have done." So with that pep talk, I emerged from the van on my jelly legs into the arms of my dear
husband who held onto me the entire time.
So, now at the top of DA ROCK, there's nowhere to go but back down. The question is HOW? It's not like there was a 2-lane road or anything, and this 1-lane road did not wind around to the other side of the rock. What happened next seemed to defy all laws of physics or whatever, but our driver managed to back that van up and maneuver around down the lane (you really couldn't see where the lane actually turned to go down). I'm still holding breath from that feat.
There were several attractions at the next stop - the Moorish Castle, the WWII tunnels, the Armory, etc. The driver then gave us a choice. We could stay there and visit all of these attractions and walk back down, or we could bypass them and ride back down to the town square with him. Although we were not as high up as before, it was still quite a trek down that rock. Also, I couldn't help but think that we each paid 22 pounds for a white knuckle ride up the rock, and a ride halfway back down. The driver
seemed to be in a rush to get back down so he could get another van of victims...er tourists. Anyway, we chose to stay and visit the attractions, which ended up being just the Moorish Castle.
The driver told us it was a 2-5 minute walk from the Moorish Castle down to the town square. I don't know for whom - maybe an Olympic athlete or a mountain climber, but definitely not for a couple of out-of-shape Americans (my cousin's fit self excluded). Anway, so down this narrow lane we went, stepping off to the side to let the ocassional car or tour van pass by. Somewhere along the way, we turned in the wrong direction and ended up in a residential section of Gibraltar. We walked down to the street in this section only to start walking up the street. I kept thinking, this is wrong...we should be walking down and closer to the rock, not up the street and away from the rock. Plus, there were no other people/tourists walking in this direction. Despite this, we kept going. When we finally got to the level part of the street where it turned to go down, we just
followed the street. This took us even further into the neighborhood. This was definitely not part of the 22 pound tour, but we got to see what the average tourist wouldn't on that tour. We kept walking, and soon realized that the street was taking us up again. Basically we were doubling back, but just on another street. We were tired, cranky and frustrated beyond belief at this point. I suggested that we retrace our steps back to the Moorish Castle and ask for assistance back down.
We started to retrace our steps when a car pulled up next to us. We had walked past this guy while he was unloading his car a ways back. He kindly asked if we were lost and needed help. We told him we were trying to get back to the town square. He then told us exactly how far to walk and where to turn. Ironically, the turn was right at that point where we had given up. Several minutes later, we were finally back in civilization.
This wasn't exactly the town square, but a commerical pedestrian mall, that branched from the town square, filled with souvenir shops and inexpensive clothing
stores. It reminded me of the worst retail shops on New Orleans' Canal Street. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't completely terrible, but it just lacked a certain charm that I had quickly grown accoustomed to while in Spain. Completely worn out from our adventures in the United Kingdom, we headed back to Rota.
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