Friday – Gibraltar

The weather was so horrible, I had to muster all the enthusiasm I could to get my stuff together and venture outside. I had briefly been on deck, only to retreat back inside as quickly as I could; I’d missed breakfast by getting up late, and we were only here until 4:30pm, so it was now or never.

For the first time in weeks, I opted for socks and trainers instead of sandals, and I also put on a warm fleece and my lightweight cagoule. Once past the main cruise terminal buildings (sadly, no free wi-fi), it’s a long, straight road into the town. It isn’t far; only 15 or 20 minutes or so, but with the rain pouring down, and many sporting umbrellas, it was all quite unpleasant.

As I walked, though, the rain finally started to ease off a bit, so it looked like things were probably looking up after all. Gibraltar is a British Crown colony, so, once in the town centre, it really did feel like home. Despite a heavy Spanish influence, and the fact that cars drive on the wrong side of the road, there were pubs here, and cafes offering all-day breakfast and good old British fish and chips. There’s a large Morrisons here, and familiar shops such as BHS, Marks and Spencer, Next and Peacocks. It’s not an unattractive town, and I’m sure for any passengers who wanted to indulge in one last shopping spree, it has much to tempt those itching to spend their last few euros. Actually, Gibraltar takes English Pounds, but we were advised to make sure and ask for your change in the same currency, and not be lumbered with Gibraltar Pounds, which are not legal tender back in the UK.

Anyway; I wasn’t here to spend my money (no change there then); I had my eye on that rock. The Rock of Gibraltar is composed of Jurassic limestone more than 200 million years old, and at its highest point rises to 300 metres above sea-level in an area measuring less than three and a half square miles. My first objective was to navigate my way through the side streets of the town, and up long flights of steps, reminiscent of Lisbon, to the Moorish Castle, which overlooks the bay. Up close, it isn’t really much to look at, but the views across the bay, and towards mainland Spain are awesome. By now, the rain had stopped completely, and I was starting to enjoy myself. The road continued to rise, and as I continued walking, I noticed a kiosk which said ‘Tickets’ across the door. Assuming it was just for entry to the Moorish Castle, I started to walk past it, as the road continued to rise, which was where I wanted to go. As I passed, though, a man in a uniform emerged and asked me if I wished to purchase a ticket. I explained that I didn’t want to go inside the castle, and that I just wanted to follow the road up the hill. What I hadn’t realised was that this was the entrance to the Upper Rock Nature Reserve. The man showed me the scale of charges, which varied according to what attractions I might want to avail myself of. Hello, thought I; here we go…. they were going to fleece me for just going for a walk…. Walker’s rate?….. 50p. Cool!!!! I was relieved, and happy to turn over a 50 pence piece to enable me to carry on walking. There are several visitor attractions dotted across the reserve, including Great Siege Tunnels, from the Great Siege of 1779-83, St. Michael’s Cave and a Military Heritage Centre – an all-in-one ticket, including entrance to all of these, would have cost me £10. I had only one objective, though…… to see the apes!

Referring to the map that my 50p had bought me, I followed one of the roads that criss-cross the side of the rock, heading in the general direction of the Apes Den. Along the way, I was able to look round a ‘City Under Siege’ exhibition, and a couple of ancient Lime Kilns. At all times, the views across the bay were stunning, and I stopped often to film video and take photographs.

Finally, I reached the Apes Den. This is where the famous Barbary Apes of Gibraltar live and roam freely; the only place in Europe. Actually, they are tailless monkeys, properly known as Barbary macaques, and beautiful creatures they are too. As I approached the area where they are most concentrated, I could see them, sat on walls and jumping about in the undergrowth. Signs are dotted everywhere asking visitors not to feed them, and reminding them that they are wild animals and are advised to show caution when in their company (they’re prone to rippping your head off and making off with your bags, apparently).

The first one I saw was sat on a low wall quite noncholantly digging into a bag of crisps and taking the occasional sup from a can of coke. Then there were the babies; tiny little bundles of energy that looked like they’d only just learnt to walk; clinging to their mothers, then bouncing off to do humourous little-monkey-things. Others were just sat relaxing, or engaged in the art of picking fleas off each other, which seemed more like more of a social-bonding exercise than a practical one. It was quiet today; I hadn’t met a single other person on my travels, and I had the apes to myself for several minutes, before any coaches appeared. When one did pull up alongside, and passengers disembarked, the apes would suddenly become extremely interested in their visitors, and got quite animated; a couple of them would dutifully pose while people took photos of each other standing beside them. The humans would whoop and holler in delight at seeing the monkeys and their antics; one kept climbing onto the bus and clinging to the windows. Then when the coaches went, the apes slipped back to their somnambulent state…. curious.

My way back down to the town was via an old, rough track, parts of which would have been a road at one time, but were now in a state of serious disrepair, and had suffered from rock falls and erosion. It was steep in places, but a path nonetheless. Curiously; it brought me down into what’s known as the Upper Town, without any signs of a ticket kiosk – worth remembering for when we come back this way again…. I could have saved meself 50p!

After lunch, I spent most of the afternoon working in the cabin. My trainers were still sopping wet from the rain this morning, and I didn’t really fancy a repeat walk into town just to see if I could find free wi-fi – a leisurely afternoon seemed more appropriate.

At 4:30pm, it was all-aboard for the last time. Ice cream was being served on the back deck, along with the ice-carving demonstration, postponed from yesterday. At 5pm, the captain fired up the engines, and we said farewell to our last port of call.

We now have three sea days, taking us back through the Bay of Biscay towards our final destination… Dover.