As you might have noticed, the title of this blog entry is an homage to Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days' chapter headings. And that's important solely because I finally finished F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise and was thus able to move onto a new book in Gibraltar! Whoo-hoo!!
But before I get into reading/writing/drinking and all that, there are a few things you should know about Gibraltar, because most people I've talked to have no idea exactly what it is. Gibraltar is an extremely well fortified (via a natural rock formation) peninsula in southern Spain... that happens to be a British territory. How is that you ask? Well, in 1704 the "Rock" was seized by British forces and ultimately ceded to the UK in "perpetuity" by Spain in the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713. Subsequent to the British occupation, the Rock came under siege by Spanish attempts to reclaim it many times, culminating with the Great Siege which lasted from 1779-1783. In fact, the Rock has been under siege over 20 times during its history as a strategic point of access & trade for the Mediterranean. After the Great Siege, however, the Rock more or less became accepted British territory- though Spain to this day attempts to reassert claims to it.
Wow Mike, that's friggin' fascinating, but why do I give a shit? Ok, fair point. So I'll tell you. The British control of Gibraltar creates two items of notable importance: (1) there, accordingly, exists a very passport-lax English speaking British provincial enclave in southern Spain for all those native English speakers traveling Spain whose heads are spinning with ceaseless rounds of "por favor" and "gracias;" and (2) for travelers weary of the relatively merit-less Cruz Campo or Mahou beers, or expensive Spanish liquor, Gibraltar is a much appreciated oasis of proper English draft beers, cheap cheap booze, and of course, all associated British food accompaniments. To the former, I must note that via this experience I think I have developed a nearly foolproof system of living in Spain full time and returning to the US periodically without needing a visa (email me privately to discuss), and to the latter, while I'll never be tired of Spanish food, I was ready to kneel down in worship for a proper English beer!
So now- let's get to it. Gibraltar. I've always wanted to go there ever since I was a little kid and I had this children's book that listed some of the tallest things on earth. At the time the "Sears" Tower was the tallest, I think ESB was second and on down the line. But towards the end was the Rock of Gibraltar. And since that tender age, I've always destined to set foot on that soil, climb the rock and see first-hand what all the fuss was about. Well, ladies and gentlemen, mission accomplished. But before you can climb the rock, or dare even set foot in Gib (the nickname for Gibraltar), you must first get there.
And to do that, you must walk. Yes, walk. From Spain. You can take a bus to La Línea de la Concepción, which is about a 5 minute walk from the border. Ok, seems reasonable. And it is. Here is the unreasonable portion: to get into Gibraltar you have to walk from the bus station down the street and then across a LIVE Royal Air Force (RAF) taxiway. No, I'm dead serious. Apparently when planes are due to arrive, the guards block off the street running across the runway, but in all other times you merely march yourself across the runway and right on into Gib. I've never quite seen anything like it.
Once in Gib, I proceeded to the hostel, deposited my belongings, and then started on my walk to conquer the Rock. The only problem was, at first I went the wrong way. I started down main street, which is lovely, and just kept going.
About an hour later I reached the lighthouse at the far southern end of the island. Well, ok, now what?
So then I attempted to hike up through the eastern trails but was foiled by a non-pedestrian friendly tunnel. So I had to back track all the way to the lighthouse/mosque then start up the trail to the Upper Rock Park. It wasn't a total loss, I strutted around in my tank for a bit, simply soaking in the sun. That's a mosque there in the background.
Finally, from up at the entrance, provided you pay the entry fee, you can get a great view of the port- dare I say it nearly rivals that of Istanbul (Kev)?
From there you enter the park and I proceeded to the St. Michael's Caves, which are an extremely impressive series of grottoes winding through the south end of the rock. They even hollowed out part to build an underground amphitheater.
Next, you head north through the Den of the Apes. And yes, there are wild monkeys on the Rock, and yes, if you have food they will attack you. Thankfully, the ones I came across were either hungover or were merely docilely hiding from the sun; existing in a sense of general malaise.
From there you can walk up to the Siege Tunnels, blasted out of the rock during the Great Siege by the Royal Corp of Engineers to provide additional cannon berths to defend the Rock's weaker northeastern side. The tunnels themselves are extremely impressive, culminating in St. George's Hall in the "Notch" where a natural outcropping provided a perfect battery.
After that, you can walk down the trail to the old Moorish Castle which formed the high point of fortification for the Moorish medina that once dominated the hillside of the Rock. In fact, there is evidence that Gibraltar has been inhabited since the era of the Neanderthals (something that is consistently apparent on the "dual-heads" 1 pound coins they mint, featuring the Queen on one side and the Neanderthal skull on the opposite). In any event, my favorite part of the Moorish Castle was the monkeys lounging about on the old ramparts.
Who said there wasn't stuff to see in Gibraltar?!? But to be fair, I toured all of the above in less than five hours, at which point I was in a desperate need of something to eat and a proper English beer which I had sorely neglected thus far in the great outpost. Strolling back down Main Street, I glanced down an alley and happened to notice the Star Bar, which I immediately recognized from watching an episode of Three Sheets many years back. I seemed to recall Zane having a good time there (and then having a good English breakfast), so I decided to check it out.
Well, suffice it to say, the Star Bar became my permanent inhabitance in Gib for the remainder of my time there- much to the general chagrin of the surly barkeep Ray. To be fair, Ray isn't really a surly fellow, he's actually a very kind man who took the time to speak to my mom via Skype on Mother's Day and generally looked after me during my time in Gib. An ex-military man and ex-police, Ray is not a man to suffer fools, and he's very quick to make it clear that his appearance behind the legendary Star Tavern's wooden bar is simply for the service of his own needs and not of those of beer longing tourists such a persistent American patron.
So, with Ray at the helm, at times the Star Bar befuddles you with its apparent desire to be the most difficult bar in the world to actually give your money to. That said, one can only proffer the deepest respect for a man and an establishment that, despite the rate at which today's world moves, insists on progressing along at their own pace. Ray reminds me a bit of some of the great food and drink personalities in NYC, such as Dom DeMarco at the legendary DiFara Pizza in Brooklyn; stately taking his time in crafting each pie according to his own internal preferences, oblivious to the hand-wringing of the starving patrons behind the counter scrutinizing his every move. That said, I absolutely LOVED my time at the Star Bar in Gib. I turned out some great writing there, and despite my good friend Ray's best efforts to rid himself of "The Yank," I returned day after day for fresh Old Speckled Hen's and the incredible atmosphere of the staff and bar itself.
On day two, I even tried my first true English breakfast, 2 fried eggs, 2 sausage, 2 bacon, beans, grilled tomato, grilled mushrooms, black pudding, toast, and chips! You need 3 stomachs to eat all of this!
I have to admit, a funny memory came to my mind when this gigantic plate was sat down in front of me, as I imagined my ex gleefully plowing through a breakfast of this magnitude. Despite her faults one thing I can never deny her- the woman could eat! And she would have surely appreciated this morning culinary feast.
On my last night there, Ray let me check out the view from behind the bar and then was gracious enough to pose in a picture with me. I'm certainly going to miss Gib, my new friends, and especially Ray and the wonderful folks and other patrons of the Star Bar. You can bet when my family comes through southern Spain, they will be making a mandatory stop in Gib, and the now-requisite pilgrimage to the Star Bar. Gib, I shall miss you immensely!
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