A birthday in Gibraltar

Text and photos by Piero Cogoni. A short three-day trip to celebrate a birthday away from home. The only flight available for those dates landed in Valencia, Spain. With a Hertz rental car (always up to the occasion), about 850 km were enough, and by evening I was able to admire the rock that forms "Gibraltar" before the sun went down. The evening can be spent in Tarifa, a little further south on Spanish soil, a town that comes alive on summer evenings cooled by the constant wind. The old town teems with young people moving in swarms through the narrow lanes between little shops offering a bit of everything, from swimwear to nautical goods, snacks and drinks. I had dinner at an open-air place on the main square while the entertainment show was being set up, drawing in the residents and the more sedentary tourists.

At 2 a.m., while the crew was dismantling the stage equipment and the more alert youngsters were working out how to finish the night, I went to rest: for today, it had been enough. Early on we pack the bags and leave the hotel, a short stop to see something else in the centre, breakfast, and off towards Gibraltar, with a few stops near some wind-energy plants. Leaving the car in the public car park on Spanish soil, I decide to continue on foot. Crossing the border between Spain and Gibraltar is simple and quick. You have to cross the runway where a few planes land each day, and walk along the well-marked pedestrian lane, bordered by the cycle lane and the car lane, kept under watch by diligent English bobbies. The visit to the area at the foot of the rock is quick along a pedestrian street lined with many shops, mostly closed apart from those run by Asians, up to the cable-car station.

Ticket, and then off towards the summit. For those with little time or who don't want to spend too long visiting the rock and its forest, you can wander near the station, because you'll certainly be approached by motorised tour guides offering their services with a full tour of the most interesting spots for the modest sum of €12.00, about two hours spent uncomfortably seated in the white minibuses, certainly cramped and in the company of portly tourists on the steep climbs. The little man who approached me telling me that visiting on foot would tire me out already had plenty of people packed in, and when I told him, peering inside, that I preferred to take a stroll, he didn't take it well.

The most interesting part is certainly the view stretching all the way to the Moroccan coast and the encounter with the monkeys (the only ones in all of Europe), moving with great ease among the rocks, the plants and the roofs of the minibuses. In some areas the forest rangers, who ask you not to feed the animals, set out frugal communal meals, leaving fruit and chopped vegetables available to them to round off their diet. In these places, though, the rudeness of the motorised guides comes to the fore: they honk to announce their arrival, unload their human cargo which, amid laughter, poses for souvenir photos, shouts and showers of peanuts (the guides are also peanut dealers), violates the calm and the peace of the spot. Just as they arrived, they leave with a few manoeuvres through the narrow lanes, and only then did I congratulate myself for not having taken up their offer.

I continue my visit through the lanes, meeting other walkers and other primates that rarely turn dangerous or try to snatch something from you (unfortunately they've grown used, thanks to the guides, to the idea that man brings food in whatever object he holds, so... watch your camera). I continue the visit among the ruins of the military posts, stopping at various points to admire the view and the movement of ships passing or anchored in the bay, then begin the route back, cable car and down to the lower area. For lunch I stopped at a typical restaurant, "Lord Nelson", with traditional English cooking at reasonable prices. In the afternoon, after watching a plane from Barcelona land, I was able to cross the border and pick up the car to continue the journey home, next stop "The Alhambra in Granada", but that's already another trip. See you soon