Barbary apes of Gibraltar

How many times can you say that you’ve crossed borders between countries 3 times in one day, or that you’ve used 3 currencies in one day, or that you’ve spoken 5 different languages in one day? That was us today.

After getting off the ferry that brought us from Tangier (Morocco) to Tarifa (Spain), we beelined it for Gibraltar. I remember the photos my dad showed me of his time in Gibraltar from when he was in the navy, and so I really wanted to visit the Rock.

Wow, what a sight! Not the Rock (that was impressive), but the line-up of cars to get in! There was an actual border checkpoint with passport control and everything! And we were the stereotypical Canadians, waiting patiently in the queue like everyone else. Until we saw the locals on their bikes, lane splitting their way up between the parallel rows of stopped traffic. How hard can it be, we thought. We’re only 6 feet wide, I’m sure these aluminum panniers won’t do any real damage. And so we were off as well. I can still hear Angela’s voice in my helmet saying, “you’ve got four inches on each side, I think you’ll fit!”

We probably shaved a good 30 minutes off the queue time, and arrived at passport control. When I was asked for my passport, as I handed it over I queried whether Britain had in fact exited the EU already, but that didn’t seem to be well received.

Nonetheless, there we were driving into Gibraltar, which is so small the runway for the airport is bisected by the main road in/out.

We parked by the cable car and waited for over an hour to ride the Swiss-built system six minutes to the top of the Rock. Once on top, we took shelter from an approaching storm in the overpriced restaurant and grabbed a quick bite as we watched the movements of the ships below.

After the storm passed and the bill was paid, we wandered along the top of the Rock of Gibraltar, admiring the view and observing the Barbary Apes. They’re sneaky little critters! Having heard the tales from a Greer from the previous generation, I was better prepared than some, and watched with amusement as a few people had items pilfered from their possession.

The views and the walk were amazing, but all things must come to an end, so we descended from the lofty heights back to our bikes, and made our way back into Spain and on to our Airbnb.

Our Airbnb host, by the way, drives truck and works as a roadie for some of the biggest acts in music. I’m sure he has some stories to tell.

Happy Sabbath all!