Here Comes The Sun!!

Good morning from Gibraltar, it is going to be a beautiful day!!

Marabooboo!!!!

These rings can be found all around the Rock of Gibraltar, even on the higher, wilder areas. What do you think they were used for? First person to come up with the correct answer wins a Marabooboo!!

A Different Country!!

We think of our Gibraltar as a totally separate country from Spain, despite their constant claims on our sovereignty. Just to prove it, we produce our own weather!! This is not a photoshopped picture, this is known as The Levanter, a cloud that forms over the rock when there is a strong easterly wind, combined with high humidity. While the rest of Spain is bathed in glorious May sunshine, we have our own little bit of very British greyness!! This was my view as I came back into Gib yesterday. Incidentally, the road you can see in the foreground is the only way into Gib, for pedestrians and cars alike. It crosses our runway, and is closed when the flights land. There is always a slight sense of panic if you are halfway over,and the alarm sounds for an approaching plane!! Amazingly unique place!!

GibGen Day

 

I thought I might do a post about this amazingly unique place where I live. But I don’t want to drown you all in history and facts (and there is a lot of history going on here!). Soooooo!! I thought that on a Saturday, I would share just bits and pieces with you, and maybe create a page, so if you miss a bit, you can go back and have a sneaky catch-up.

I want to show you the stuff you won’t find on Google. The real reason why I fell in love with this lump of rock, and made it my home. So today, a few of the basics. It is really small, only 2.3 square miles (6 square kilometres) and most of that is rock!! The main town area is the part you can see at the front of the picture, and is home to almost 30,000 people. We ran out of space a little while ago, and had to reclaim some land from the sea, so that middle chunk is only 20 years old.

It is a British territory, has been since 1713, and for such a tiny piece of rock, has been fiercely fought over for several hundred years. English is the official language, although Gibraltarians are all bilingual (or bisexual, as one of my ex work colleagues once informed a bemused tourist!) and speak spanish as well. So that’s it for the history lesson for today, I will tell you more next week. For now, I will share with you a few of the photos I have taken, of the places most day trippers don’t see.

This is Catalan Bay, a tiny village on the east side of the rock, that until the last century was unreachable except by sea. It was originally populated by Genoese fishermen, and still retains its independent sense of community. The fishing boats go out daily, and are the main supply for our restaurants. Eating here is an absolute joy.

There are really british aspects that stand out here, like the telephone boxes, which make you feel like you are stepping back in time by about fifty years. There are post boxes here that date back to Victorian times, I will capture those for you.

The original city walls date back to a time when this was a moorish stronghold. In fact the name Gibraltar comes from Gibral Tarik, meaning Tarik’s Seat, the moorish ruler at the time. The bloke on the right? Oh yeah, that’s Nelson. His remains were brought here in a  barrel of rum, onboard H.M.S. Pickle, after he died during the Battle of Trafalgar.

And this is in the Trafalgar Cemetery, which contains the remains of those that lost their life in that battle, and also those who died in an epidemic plague that followed shortly afterwards. Sounds a bit mad, but it is a beautiful cemetery! Ok so that’s the first of many! Not my normal type of post, but I really wanted people to know about this place, because it is really very special for a tiny isthmus! Oh, and for those of you that were expecting apes? Yes, we have them. Yes, they look cute. They are not!! They have teeth!! They steal!! And beat up small dogs!! (Ok, I may have made that last bit up, but they is nasty!!) But just for you, a picture!!

Stairway to Heaven….

 

We have an outside escalator here in Gib. It takes me nowhere near my home, in fact adds an extra ten minutes to my journey. But who could resist a stairway to heaven?!

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge/Leaves and Trees

This gallery contains 8 photos.

Day 23, and we are tasked with taking part in a blogging challenge. I have wanted to do this particular one for a while, and the topic this week of Leaves and Trees really appealed. So I have been out and about, and these are my offerings.

Gibraltar by Night April 2014

This photo was taken by my daughter, Charlotte. I just wanted to share it with you.

Easter Sunset Gibraltar

Just had to post this! Easter Sunset in Gibraltar!!

In The Summertime

Summertime arrives with no warning in my part of the world. We have just two seasons here, A relatively short, very wet, very windy winter, with some of the most spectacular thunderstorms I have ever experienced. The local residents have a strange form of amnesia, which leads them to make the same claim every year that they have never known so much rain. The houses have no heating, and the damp permeates everything, and chills you to the bone. The sheer volume of water, combined as it is with the steep, narrow streets carved into the sides of the Rock, creates fast moving rivers in minutes, and you find yourself struggling knee deep through these torrents, buffeted by gale force winds.

And so we all long for summer. Although there is a part of me that is loathe to leave winter behind. British by birth, with strong celtic genes, my pale skin and red hair is far better suited to winter clothing. A natural tomboy, I also have an enduring love affair with my leather jacket, jeans, and Doc Marten’s, and dread the moment when I have to part company with these in favour of strappy tops and sandals.

Summer started here this week. It is as sudden as that. Just as immediate is the effect on our daily routine. the brisk walk down the Main Street is replaced with a less heat inducing stroll. Linen becomes the material of choice for men and women. The local women appear to tan deeply overnight, and remain effortlessly cool and fragrant despite the intense heat. (I struggle still to achieve anything deeper than off-white, and maintain a permanent glow!) Eating outside becomes the norm, and the cafes and bars throng with families enjoying long leisurely lunches. I love the style of dining here, the table spread with a vast array of dishes for everyone to share. A mouthwatering variety of fish, bowls of salads, olives, fresh breads.The youngest of children, sitting on the adult’s knees, happily devour the most exotic of flavours. All washed down with large jugs of chilled Tinto de Verano, ice cold glasses of beer, and copious amounts of water. The single plate of food, placed in front of me with the admonition to hurry up and eat it while it was still warm, does not exist here. People eat as much or as little as they want.

There is another herald of summer here. The tourists! Gibraltar is a very unique place, a small but imposing piece of  rock attached to the very south of Spain. It is a British enclave, and it is this that sets it apart from the rest of the mediterranean. The Main Street is peppered with british shops, including the ubiquitous Marks & Spencer!! But it also rich in history, and has a marvellous mixture of cultures, and religions. The crime rate is virtually non-existent, and it is incredibly safe. We have no home grown industry, and so rely heavily on the tourist industry for our income. So we welcome their invasion every year. But as an expat myself, I find myself painfully embarrassed at the behaviour of some of my fellow Brits.

The way they dress, for starters. What rogue gene is it that compels them, the minute they set off for foreign climes, to wear THE most inappropriate outfits possible. Should someone suggest they wore the same garb to visit their local supermarket, they would recoil in horror. Yet they think nothing of baring vast amounts of bare white flesh, cropped tops exposing flabby bellies, shorts that are far too tight and ride up the inside of their thighs. The men, topless, proudly displaying their beer bellies. Sunburn is seen as badge of honour, even more so if it can be offset with a stripe of white from a poorly placed bra strap. Do they not have full length mirrors?

While most are happy to avail themselves of the various tours and visits on offer, to experience the rich history that is ours, there is a hardened core who make it their mission to visit the same shops that they have at home, with no other reason than to compare prices. Loudly. With accompanying accusatory stares at the shop assistants. They express huge surprise at the lack of certain stores, come close to weeping when they discover there is no cafe in Marks & Spencer, because they always eat there, and peer closely at their change, to make sure they haven’t been given any of that “foreign stuff” even though our currency is sterling as well.

They laden themselves with enough alcohol to keep a thriving bar stocked for a year, and staunchly refuse to even try the local dishes on offer, seeking out British fish and chips, and full english breakfast. Despite my colouring, and very english accent, they assume I won’t understand a word they are saying, and yes, they really do believe that if they talk loudly, and add an O to the end of each word, they are fluent in a foreign language. I have even witnessed one of my colleagues, on confirming that she was Gibraltarian, get poked like an exhibit in a freak show, with the comment “I’ve never seen one of you before!” It makes me cringe in horror.

 

The trip to the beach here is approached with an almost religious fervour. During the height of the summer, all Government offices close halfway through the day, as do a lot of the smaller local businesses, as the bulk of the population heads for the sea. The beaches here are a territorial minefield for the unsuspecting visitor, as local families will have used the same pitch for several generations, and don’t take kindly to usurpers. A lone member of each will make the dawn visit daily to place their umbrellas and chairs in their exact spot, and the ranks are swelled as the day progresses. Forget a small bag with a single towel, they arrive laden with cold boxes full of food, paddling pools for the smaller children, card tables to keep themselves amused. And there they remain, until the sun has long disappeared, then decamp to prepare their goods for the following day. I realised I had become entrenched in this culture, when I experienced a pang of disappointment that one of my teenagers had decided to use a ‘rival’ beach as his playground of choice. The teenagers are usually the last to leave, partaking as they do of a ‘SLOP’ (stay late order pizza).

As the summer season draws to an end, we celebrate our National Day, which is an almost overwhelming experience. The entire local population, including some unfortunate dogs, dress in the Gibraltar colours of red and white, and take to the streets in a fabulous show of community. They pack in their hundreds into the main square in town for a rally, which is finished with the release of thousands of red and white balloons.

 

And then the party begins!! Culminating in a rock concert, and a spectacular fireworks display!! This, for us, heralds the official end of summer.The children return to school, the beaches empty once more, and despite the lingering heat and clear blue skies, the clothes shops unveil their winter coats and cardigans. And after months of relentless sunshine, there begins a longing for the day that we wake up, and it is suddenly winter once more.And I can be re-united with my beloved jacket, jeans and boots!