More British Than Britain

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Unlike our last short break to New York (see Failing to Find Something Between Fortnum & Mason and Weatherspoons), it was early morning flight, which meant being at Heathrow at 5.00am. Strangely for a British Airways flight, it was leaving from Terminal 3. I had a massive moan again about the self-service baggage drop. The tag on my daughter's case went horribly wrong and was all creased and out of line. I am going to be in so much trouble if that bag does not turn up in Gibraltar.

Most of the airside area seemed to be one, huge, sprawling duty free shop, although I had thought that the Tory's had stopped duty free in the wake of Brexit.

By this point we were hungry. Where Terminal 5 had Weatherspoon's on one extreme, Fortnum and Mason on the other extreme and not much in between, Terminal 3 seemed to have that middle-ground covered. I resisted the temptation to order a beer with my breakfast, although I was one of the few who didn't. It seems to be perfectly acceptable to have a beer at 6.30 in the morning when you are in an airport - who am I to argue?

The flight was a civilised two and a half hours, through which almost everyone (us included) slept.

Given that Gibraltar is only about three miles from one end to the other, there is minimal room for an airport, so the runway is on reclaimed land and is almost completely surrounded by the sea. It is also not very long, meaning that the pilot had to really slam the breaks on before we ended up in the sea. Apparently, it is close to the top of the list of the world's scariest airports to land and take off from.

Passport control was a breeze (we were flying from Britain to a British Territory after all). All they wanted to know was whether we were staying in Gibraltar of transiting into Spain, although I am not sure what would have happened when you are transiting into Spain. Relief all round when all our bags turned up and I was saved my daughter's wrath.

The border between Gibraltar and Spain is literally outside the terminal. It might be fun to pop across and then come straight back again for the hell of it later. On the other side of the airport, the main road from Spain and from the airport to Gibraltar literally crosses the runway, so all the traffic had to wait for 15 minutes whilst an EasyJet plane taxied and then took off.

We got a taxi to the hotel. The driver was very chatty to put it mildly. He was born in Gibraltar, but he had lived in the north of England for 40 year before coming back. He bought us up to speed on Gibraltar - for example be careful with any property when near the monkeys (they'll take anything they can), use Pounds rather than Euros (quite right) and negotiate the prices in the shops (not very British). The latter is with the possible exception of the Marks and Spencer and the Morrisons supermarket. I might give it a go though and see what they say at the Morrisons checkout when I tell them that "The taxi driver said that I can expect a discount on these groceries!"

It is tax free here though, so there's 20% saved with no negotiation required.

His other advice was that if we were wanted to go to the top of the rock then to not do it on Tuesday. That is the day that the cruise ships arrive and, apparently, it is absolutely rammed up there. He also recommended getting a taxi tour, although we did see that the cable car is very close to our hotel.

We asked about popping across to Spain, although his view was "why on earth would you want to do that?"

We left our bags at the hotel and went for a walk to Main Street. There were a number of British brands represented, including the forementioned M&S, but most of them were closed as it was Sunday. It seems that Gibraltar has taken the best of both Spain and Britain. From Spain there is the relaxed atmosphere, the café culture, the work-life balance and, of course, the weather. From Britain, there is, well, M&S. There were lots of red phone boxes and red post boxes though, but I suppose they are more of a cliché than the best of the UK. There was also lots of union jack bunting everywhere, given that the platinum jubilee is just a week away now. They also use the pound, so no currency worries, although they do have their own notes.

We wondered which side of the road they would drive here. Surprisingly, it's the right, so that one victory for Spain there then

I left my wife and daughter to it by the pool and I went for a walk in the opposite direction to Europa Point, which is the southernmost point of Gibraltar. The lighthouse and rocks would be a great place to indulge my photography at sunrise. Africa is also clearly visible not so far in the distance across the Strait of Gibraltar.

Walking back, I somehow ended up going through a dark road tunnel, which was a bit disconcerting, but I did see some other people ahead of me. That led to some beaches on the west side of Gibraltar and, eventually, I came to the point where I was going to have to face the climb back up to the hotel, which is a lot higher up the side of The Rock than I realised. Several torturous flights of stairs later, I needed a beer.

We walked back to Main Street for the evening and found an excellent steak restaurant. It ended with a complementary liqueur. It wasn't just a small measure though, but a jar full. I was steaming when we left.

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Photos

Patriotic Main Street
The main shopping street through the centre of the old part of town.

Main Street Building
Old building in Main Street.

Towards Africa
The Europa Lighthouse and that's Africa in the background.

Red Phone Box
One of the many traditional red phone boxes around Gibraltar (along with the red post boxes).

Flags
The Gibraltar and British flags.

Lord Nelson
Loyal to British history.

Spooky Tunnel
I'm really not sure if I should be walking through there?

Five Pound Note
The Gibraltar five pound note (they take the British ones also).