During our 2018 Moroccan trip, we took the train from London to Paris and then to Barcelona. But when we arrived at Gibraltar, an English-speaking British territory, I had to reveal my talons for the first time. It’s a bit of a story, so sit back and enjoy the read.

After visiting Barcelona, we realized our timeline would force us to zip through the rest of Spain with one short overnight stop in Madrid. Again, our hotel booking source let us down with photos and descriptions that didn’t match reality. I admit, I failed to read the traveler comments. I should not have dismissed them, and that’s my advice to you. Don’t. I still believe that travelers’ comments are usually made by high-maintenance folks who expect champagne on a beer budget. However, spending time reading the reviews can be helpful. I didn’t do that. The hotel we reserved in Madrid turned out to be a hostel. We were the oldest folks in the place, and I think the host took pity on us and gave us a nice room with a private bath. We were grateful, indeed. However, if one was late getting back after a “night on the town”, or just dinner out in our case, one had to wrestle with a tricky lockup system to get back inside. After a few frustrating minutes, we finally succeeded and all was well.

When we arrived in Madrid, our taxi driver was not able to go down the street to our “hotel”, but had to drop us about a block away because of construction. That wasn’t too bad and we were able to scope out the shops and restaurants that we may want to explore later on. The next morning, we walked in the opposite direction, dragging our luggage through a small town square where folks were having coffee and reading the news. Sadly, we had no time to stop and chat, but trudged on to a taxi stand nearby. Before long, we were on the train to Algeciras at the southern edge of Spain on the Mediterranean. From there, we took a bus to the Gibraltar border. We did a lot of walking to the bus and from the bus to the border (Larry remembers the bus driver as especially rude), where we walked some more to the customs station, and finally arrived on a street overlooking the Rock of Gibraltar. We assumed (you know what ‘assume’ means ) that taxis would be available once we went through customs. No, they weren’t. We walked some more. I don’t remember why I didn’t retrieve our hotel reservation and call them for a pickup. But I didn’t. Or maybe I did with negative results. We finally stumbled (really stumbling by now) onto a sign that had the numbers of various taxi companies. We called a few with no answers, but finally succeeded. We waited for what seemed a very long time before the guy showed up. We heaved a sigh of relief as we fell into the back seat. We told him where we wanted to go, and what do you think he said? “That hotel? It’s pretty old. I rarely take anyone there.” We shook our heads and confirmed that’s where we wanted to go.

The first thing we saw upon arrival? STAIRS from the street to the main entrance. I looked for a ramp, but there wasn’t one. (We silly entitled Americans) Because of Larry’s injured knees, stairs were anathema. But we managed to get into the lobby, and our host seemed none too happy to see Americans in her establishment. We stood there for probably two minutes or more, her only customers, while she and her husband had a spat around the corner from the check-in counter. Very uncool. When she handed over our key, I asked if the bath had a shower or a tub. “Of course, there is a shower in all our rooms, inside the tub.” Arguing would mean finding another hotel, and we weren’t up to it. Then I asked how to find the elevator for the second floor. “There is no elevator to that floor. You’ll have to take the stairs.” (This is where the talons came out.) I glared at her. She seemed unfazed that Larry was standing behind a walker. “The stairs aren’t that steep.” After a firm discussion, we were given a third-floor room which was accessible by elevator. Finally, in the room, I checked out the bathroom. The tub rim was the highest I’d ever seen. I could barely get into it with two good knees! Oh well. The unexpected joys of travel. It’s all an adventure, right?*** By the way, the following pictures are from my exploration of the caverns carved inside The Rock, from where Brits guarded the Straits of Gibraltar during WWII. The people you see are mannequins. It was muggy, musty, and incredibly fascinating.

Later that afternoon, we went exploring and found a small shopping district close by. Larry was hoping to find the music store where he and his mother found his first drum kit back when they were living in Morocco. He was sure the store was called “The Red Room” and that it was on that street. Larry vaguely remembered the area, but the store was gone. He asked a guide later about the store, and the man remembered there had been such a music store in Gibraltar. We stopped for a snack at an outdoor cafe before returning to our luxurious accommodations. We passed a shaded square where workmen were taking a break under a large tree. I can’t remember what they were working on, but Larry stopped and talked to them a while. All of them were from Spain and appeared to be happy working in Gibraltar. They said the money was good.

The next day, we found a bus tour that took us all over the 2.6 square mile territory. On one side was a huge white mosque with a tall minaret, where the bus stopped for about 15 minutes for a rest stop. I’ve included some pictures of our 2022 visit, too, which add to the sites to be seen in this small, intriguing place. I have to say that our overall experience in Gibraltar was not that friendly, which was unexpected and surprising. Most locals we met were abrupt and unsmiling. Our experience on this particular journey had been the opposite. I have no explanation for it. The bus took us around the back and up the twisting road to the top of Gibraltar, where the views were spectacular. Many tourists were winding their way up, too, and when we were held up in traffic, the notorious Gibraltar Barbary Macques, wild, free-ranging, and tailless monkeys, playfully jumped to open windows, chattering away and holding out their little hands. One tried his best to crawl past the bus driver and into the bus, searching for any treats the tourists might have handy. But the driver managed to prevent him from getting very far. These monkeys have been part of Gibraltar for centuries.

When we stopped for the tour inside the Rock, Larry said he’d wait for me outside. The only problem, unknown to us, was that the tour group exited at a different place, far from where we entered. Our group had no guide, but were allowed to freely zig-zag throughout the many rooms that were used by the troops garrisoned there during WWII. We exited at a spot overlooking the Atlantic where big guns, still in place, guarded the Straits between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Not knowing what to do, our small group of about six or seven followed a dirt road down a steep hill to where we thought the bus would pick us up. All the while, I’m worrying about my husband, sitting and wondering where the heck we are. The bus finally showed up and, again, the talons came out to ensure the driver drove back to pick up Larry, patiently waiting all alone, for our return. The whole thing wasn’t very well organized. Come to think of it, this kind of thing has happened too many times in our travels. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.

These are pictures from our 2022 cruise. Larry and I were talking about why our first experience in Gibraltar was so unfriendly. He thinks that because so many of these places are overwhelmed with tourists, especially from cruise ships, they have become somewhat intolerant, even though income from tourism is huge. I’m sure you may have read that some popular European destinations have begun to limit the number of cruise ships allowed. I can understand that. In our travels, we’ve been astounded at the number of tourists, especially Americans, clogging the streets of beautiful, historic places.

I’ll finish with pictures of the only place in the world where a major highway intersects an international airport runway. The one on the left is a photo I took as our bus drove over the runway. Pretty incredible! Despite having to get tough a couple of times, I’m not sorry we visited this fascinating, historical corner of this marvelous world we live in. Learning and exploring are always good. I hope you enjoyed my travel memories. Like and comment below or visit my website at: https://vcwilliamsauthor.com/ I’ll see you next time!