Friday, 14 August 2015

Rock n Roll

The story so far: three in van heading to Malaga, where I know someone who has a house, decide to detour via Gibraltar where there is a rock. 

Prior to that and after Foz do A we had a couple of days trekking across the Spanish countryside I'll be honest, they weren't the best days we'd had...you know those days when everything just seems to go wrong?  So henceforth we shall call them 'days of darkness' and gloss over that part of the trip.

Gibraltar: I won't bore you with the history, mostly because I don't know it but also because you can discover it yourself ont tinternet. In fact, the time it would take you to Google 'Gibraltar' and read a hefty paragraph is approximately the amount of time we spent on our entire visit. Here's how it went:

1. Followed sat nav to Gibraltar.
2. Drove through passport control and customs 'do you have any animals to declare?'
3. Followed the reduced version of the M25* round Gibraltar town. 
4. Couldn't find Morrison's - three hours free parking, we were advised - despite directions.
5. Drove off and out.

Actually, it was the Lady R who kindly took pity on me,  under the onslaught of mopeds, bikes, taxis, small vehicles and lack of space she said, 'if you want to leave, let's just go, it's chaos'. So we did. We're applying to the Guinness Book of Records for the quickest ever visit to Gibraltar by two women and a dog in a camper van. We're bound to nail it. 

We were hot, we were sweaty,  we'd had enough so we drove along the coast for five minutes and came to La Linea. Parked up and swam in the sea. Bliss. 

In fairness to Gibraltar, she was a place of interest. Take one really big rock put it on a flat bit next to the coast. Build as much as you can fit in the flat bit. Add an M & S, a Natwest Bank and some tapas, throw in 'afternoon tea' signs. Find a couple of bobbies and get them to wear the high, tall hats like beat officers do in London, but with short sleeves, give them an old fashioned truncheon (no use for getaway vehicles here, you'll be running). Make the entrance look like Heathrow and put some posh boats in the water. Ensure the Spanish sun is beating down. Da daaaaaa, you just made Gibraltar.

We found a place to park (which was great until 2am-4am when the disco was in full swing) and made full use of the beach. Now, when you travel with a Betty you have to be aware that you are not really allowed on the beach, so you have to be sensitive about where you go. We decided to walk right to the end of the sand and swim next to Gibraltar. It was perfect, no one minded, no one bothered us. We all chilled, perfect. As B and I swam and the Lady R collected shells we noticed a puzzling phenomenon...people, either alone or in little groups, would walk past us, right to the end of the beach, they would wade out to chest level where the barbed-wire topped wall separated Spain from the land of British sovereignty and they would peep around the corner. How bizarre. 

We watched and puzzled as they pointed, examined, exclaimed, discussed and evaluated. Were they trying to break in? We asked ourselves. Actually, it was the Lady R who solved the mystery (give her a pipe n call her Sherlock) they were looking at the airport.

Having had a thoroughly lovely afternoon, we finished it off with fishy tea and cocktails. Perfect. 

A rock
A cock-tail
 A rockery
A menu
 A view
A viewer
Diggin!
Sunrise view from my bed

*complete with traffic jam

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