Hiya, we ahve filled this blog up and have to move to a new site... the link is below, please add it to your favourites
Click here to go to our new blog
We will no longer post here as we cannot upload pics.
(please make sure youve read all the previous posts here :) )
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Day 5 - Headin' for the hills; make the most of our last day
Having travelled past the incredible mountains on our way to Gibraltar, and, having looked at them our of the back of our hotel every day, Glenn decided we had to find a way to go up there.
He asked the desk assistant and after quite a bit of arm waving, managed to explain what it was we waanted to do. He was told to turn left at Lidl and get the bus to Mijas outside McDonalds. Ahh the usefulness of universal chain stores. Problem was, by the time we got the the bus stop, we had forgotten the name of the place we had to go. Glenn tried in vain to explain mountains by waving his arms appropriately at the ticket man who to be fair to Glenn, was less interested in helping us and more in watching the little telly in his box. After saying a few Spanish words that he thought might be right, like 'Sinca', we realised a visit to the nearby info. centre was essential. The lovely, helpful lady inside quickly told us Mijas and we purchased tickets and got on the bus just 10min later. Through the lovely streets we went on another comfy, new bus. Beautiful buildings and flowers with the sun shining down.
It was a winding, steep climb up the low grassland hills and the views were spectacular. Several times we had to stop for other vehicles to slowly pass as the roads were quite thin.
We were in the area called Andalucia and had heard that the 'White villages' were spectacular. We passed through one where a lot of people got off and I was a bit nervous that we were still on the bus, not really knowing where we were going but, hubby wanted to be spontaneous, wanted to go all the way to the top, so we kept climbing.
Eventually we saw the entrance sign to Mijas and the bus pulled in to a wonderful market street of a 'White village'. Up the hill was a new tourist info centre with the most incredible viewing point.
We briefly considered a trip in the burra rickshaw but decided that not only are we too scabby to pay for it, the poor things looked like they would really rather be in a field somewhere.
Then into a church which was inside a natural rock grotto and again had amazing views.
Up the next hill was the local botanic gardens which was lovely and apart from more views, also had a waterfall.
Through the classically Spanish streets we wandered, the sights and the sounds everything we had expected from Spain and had not quite seen until now. It was so traditional and timeless.
We had lunch at a cafe where a busker playing the piano accordian serenaded us for a few coins and then we strolled back down the hill to find our return bus waiting at the stop. It was a wonderful trip, a spectacular way to spend most of our last day and, see the traditional Spain we had hoped for. Well done Mr B.
Another few hours to pass before our night flight to Birmingham so we bit the bullet and paid to hire the hotel sunbeds for the afternoon. It wasn't as hot as the previous few days but the sun was warm enough to relax and enjoy before heading back to 7degrees and a few more layers of clothes. Our flight departure was delayed by about 35mins due, we were told, to an aggressive passenger who had to removed from the plane by police before we could board. But another smooth flight and although James managed to get us lost again on our way home, we arrived back safe and ready for a rest.
He asked the desk assistant and after quite a bit of arm waving, managed to explain what it was we waanted to do. He was told to turn left at Lidl and get the bus to Mijas outside McDonalds. Ahh the usefulness of universal chain stores. Problem was, by the time we got the the bus stop, we had forgotten the name of the place we had to go. Glenn tried in vain to explain mountains by waving his arms appropriately at the ticket man who to be fair to Glenn, was less interested in helping us and more in watching the little telly in his box. After saying a few Spanish words that he thought might be right, like 'Sinca', we realised a visit to the nearby info. centre was essential. The lovely, helpful lady inside quickly told us Mijas and we purchased tickets and got on the bus just 10min later. Through the lovely streets we went on another comfy, new bus. Beautiful buildings and flowers with the sun shining down.
It was a winding, steep climb up the low grassland hills and the views were spectacular. Several times we had to stop for other vehicles to slowly pass as the roads were quite thin.
We were in the area called Andalucia and had heard that the 'White villages' were spectacular. We passed through one where a lot of people got off and I was a bit nervous that we were still on the bus, not really knowing where we were going but, hubby wanted to be spontaneous, wanted to go all the way to the top, so we kept climbing.
Eventually we saw the entrance sign to Mijas and the bus pulled in to a wonderful market street of a 'White village'. Up the hill was a new tourist info centre with the most incredible viewing point.
We briefly considered a trip in the burra rickshaw but decided that not only are we too scabby to pay for it, the poor things looked like they would really rather be in a field somewhere.
Then into a church which was inside a natural rock grotto and again had amazing views.
OK folks.... its seems that i have used up all of my free space on this blog site. I have created a new site which hopefully will work more easily and have space to play with. The new address is....
THIS IS OUR NEW WEBSITE.. PLEASE BOOKMARK IT
http://glennandnicinengland.wordpress.com/
THIS IS OUR NEW WEBSITE.. PLEASE BOOKMARK IT
http://glennandnicinengland.wordpress.com/
Up the next hill was the local botanic gardens which was lovely and apart from more views, also had a waterfall.
Through the classically Spanish streets we wandered, the sights and the sounds everything we had expected from Spain and had not quite seen until now. It was so traditional and timeless.
We had lunch at a cafe where a busker playing the piano accordian serenaded us for a few coins and then we strolled back down the hill to find our return bus waiting at the stop. It was a wonderful trip, a spectacular way to spend most of our last day and, see the traditional Spain we had hoped for. Well done Mr B.
Another few hours to pass before our night flight to Birmingham so we bit the bullet and paid to hire the hotel sunbeds for the afternoon. It wasn't as hot as the previous few days but the sun was warm enough to relax and enjoy before heading back to 7degrees and a few more layers of clothes. Our flight departure was delayed by about 35mins due, we were told, to an aggressive passenger who had to removed from the plane by police before we could board. But another smooth flight and although James managed to get us lost again on our way home, we arrived back safe and ready for a rest.
Day 4 - Malaga- part 2
Alcazaba was the first castle built in the area in the 700s, but with the advent of canons in the 1300s they decided to extend up the hill to build Gilbrafaro and the 2 are connected by a series of walkways and ducts that would allow the royals to escape when attack occurred. However, the walkways are not open to the public in the ruins now and so we have to head down the hill following a lovely pathway... but, it was a lonnng way down... it was verrrry hot.... and Nic's ability to pretend the pain in the ankle wasnt there was beginning to fade, this meant the 10 minute walk... took us closer to 40 minutes, but we arrived at the entrance which was in a small traditional square. after a short rest in the shade we wandered into the Alcazabar, once again gobsmacked by the beauty and longevity of the designs and buildings, it was huge and built up the side of this very steep hill, through every archway was another area or building of beauty with gardens, water features and beuatiful flowers. I think you could easily spend days in both of them...they are simply amazing.
These are some views from the walk down the hill...
Bullring
Side of Alcazabar
We headed off to the bus stop to go home, the bus stop that... if the city had not been closed off (which was because they were trimming trees on the main street for gods sake!!) would have been where we got off.. 5 minutes from where we wanted to be... not the 35+ we walked from where it dropped us.
Back in the hotel, we tossed up if we were going to go to tonights hotel show... it had been advertised as "International Singer MIGUEL", in my mind i saw a cross between Dean Martin and a Matador. We were tired but we decided we mustn miss this chance to see an international singer of such repute so... battling heat exhaustion and ankle explosion.. we made our way down once again. Previous shows had crowds as high as 20...or 8... so imagine our surprise as we walked into the room to see.... TWO other people... and they were at least 1000 years old... and im pretty sure they had been in the same seats for both of the other shows... actually, im not entirley sure they have moved, they could either be Dummys, just put there to look like a crowd, or they have died there during the Grease show... and no-one has noticed.
We took a seat away from the stage for 3 reasons..
1) There was a guy onstage with a little casio keyboard playing some background music.
2) If we needed to make a quiet exit, we could do so without being obvious
3) There was a football match on the TV screen to the right of stage, so i could watch that if "International Singer MIGUEL" didnt live up to expectations.
We sat listening to the casio belting out a couple of tunes... 2 or 3 other people popped their heads in.. and left just as quickly... it slowwly dawned on us, that, the man on stage with the Casio... was in fact "International singer MIGUEL"... some muffled laughter from my wife distracted me from the FC Braga Vs Porto match and we discussed how we would leave.... we gave Miguel another chance as he mumbled his way through Blue Moon... then followed it up with a rather uptempo version of Im Still Standing... it was half time in the match... so we quietly edged past the two "dead" people who seemed to be enjoying all that Miguel had to offer.
Much laughter in the lift on the way back to the room.
These are some views from the walk down the hill...
We headed off to the bus stop to go home, the bus stop that... if the city had not been closed off (which was because they were trimming trees on the main street for gods sake!!) would have been where we got off.. 5 minutes from where we wanted to be... not the 35+ we walked from where it dropped us.
Back in the hotel, we tossed up if we were going to go to tonights hotel show... it had been advertised as "International Singer MIGUEL", in my mind i saw a cross between Dean Martin and a Matador. We were tired but we decided we mustn miss this chance to see an international singer of such repute so... battling heat exhaustion and ankle explosion.. we made our way down once again. Previous shows had crowds as high as 20...or 8... so imagine our surprise as we walked into the room to see.... TWO other people... and they were at least 1000 years old... and im pretty sure they had been in the same seats for both of the other shows... actually, im not entirley sure they have moved, they could either be Dummys, just put there to look like a crowd, or they have died there during the Grease show... and no-one has noticed.
We took a seat away from the stage for 3 reasons..
1) There was a guy onstage with a little casio keyboard playing some background music.
2) If we needed to make a quiet exit, we could do so without being obvious
3) There was a football match on the TV screen to the right of stage, so i could watch that if "International Singer MIGUEL" didnt live up to expectations.
We sat listening to the casio belting out a couple of tunes... 2 or 3 other people popped their heads in.. and left just as quickly... it slowwly dawned on us, that, the man on stage with the Casio... was in fact "International singer MIGUEL"... some muffled laughter from my wife distracted me from the FC Braga Vs Porto match and we discussed how we would leave.... we gave Miguel another chance as he mumbled his way through Blue Moon... then followed it up with a rather uptempo version of Im Still Standing... it was half time in the match... so we quietly edged past the two "dead" people who seemed to be enjoying all that Miguel had to offer.
Much laughter in the lift on the way back to the room.
Day 4 - Malaga... part 1 (apparently im using too many pics)
Do these look like the faces of people who know where they are going and what they are doing?
Of course not, they are the faces of two people who work on the theory of.... "shes with me", so it will all be fine, no worries.
We had looked online before we left (ahh tripadvisor, the greatest website ever) and found out a couple of things we wanted to do, what would they be?... well, im glad you asked.. its... wait for it... yes... we are going to see....... a CASTLE.... coz i know that no one gets sick of castles and a spanish castle is an altogether different kettle of fish.
The ever efficient reception at the hotel said.. just up the road and to the right.. is a bus that will take you into Malaga (we guessed about a 40 minute trip). Just a 15 minute wait and the bus arrives, apparently we werent the only people planning a trip to Malaga, as the bus is full and its standing room only..not helpful given Nics ankle, fortunately a few get off at the next town and we score a seat. At this point we realise... we dont actually know where we are going.. or more importantly ..where to get off. I am confident (of course) that the bus will stop in the centre of town and all will be fine... Nic has a slightly less sure feeling.
As we reach the edge of the city the driver pulls over and shouts something in spanish, there is much mumbling and confusion amongst the other foriegners and some people begin getting off, the driver continues shouting and adds some arm waving for effect. My highly developed spanish skills now came to the fore, after listening and watching for a few moments, i come to the conclusion that.. the city is blocked off and this bus will go no further... so.. GET OUT AND WALK!.
Nic approaches the driver and tries to get some idea of where we are, where to go... or how far away we are... her spanish.... his english.. and both of their arm waving informs us.. we shoudl walk.. "that way, then left"... phew, glad weve got that cleared up :)
So, we are standing on a rundown street in Malaga with no map, no idea where we are and only my rudimentary (read "non existent" ) spanish to help us. We head off in the direction the driver pointed thinking that with Nics high speed hobbling and our cluelessness this could be an interesting day...by the way.. it was about 11am and already 27 degrees.
one of the great benefits of just seeing what happens was, just across a bridge we happened to come across the Malaga Gallery of Contempary Art. What a bonus, our fave art and it has just opened.. and its FREE!!... in we go... and it was superb, some terrific pieces, some simple, some mind boggling. Some that just looked pretty and others that opened your mind... all you could want from art. we left thinking, well no matter what happens now.. it has already been a worthwhile day out.
We continuewalking hobbling... weve now been hobbling for about 20 minutes (not including time in the gallery) and we still dont seem to be near the centre... Nic asks a nice Polizia man if he can guide us, he sadly speak no english however there is one international word that everyone recognises... he makes arm movements suggesting the we should turn right at.. "McDonalds".. another 15 minutes and we find ourselves in the Malaga Square the centre of town.
Its time for lunch and that famous restaurant McDonalds beckons however we fight the urge and instead sit down at the terrace table of a traditional Spanish Cafe', We are delighted with our food and the service by Manuel the waiter is just brilliant.
We have a chat to the tourist office which guides us to a bus stop that will take us to the top of the Hill where the Alcazabar and Gilbrafaro castles are located... a wonderful bus ride at a cost of 1.40 euros each take 20 mins and drops us at the door of Gilbarfaro Castle, this is the younger of the 2 castles.. being only 700 or so years old.
I am almost unable to describe this building, but even more the views from it, it quite simply left us speechless, sitting high above Malaga the views take your breath away, a huge surrounding wall with walk ways all along it mean that every second step seems to open another different sight, from city, to sea, to mountains and a million kilometres in between, at times we just stood, mouths agape and said wow. It of course had the super thick walls, beautiful gateways and buildings, trees, gardens... everything and all of it under the brightest, hottest sun weve experienced for nine long months, it had now reached over 30 degrees.
Next it was to Alcazabar, the name alone is enough to create images in our minds.
apparently i am using too much space, so will have to go to another post... see you on the next page..
Of course not, they are the faces of two people who work on the theory of.... "shes with me", so it will all be fine, no worries.
We had looked online before we left (ahh tripadvisor, the greatest website ever) and found out a couple of things we wanted to do, what would they be?... well, im glad you asked.. its... wait for it... yes... we are going to see....... a CASTLE.... coz i know that no one gets sick of castles and a spanish castle is an altogether different kettle of fish.
The ever efficient reception at the hotel said.. just up the road and to the right.. is a bus that will take you into Malaga (we guessed about a 40 minute trip). Just a 15 minute wait and the bus arrives, apparently we werent the only people planning a trip to Malaga, as the bus is full and its standing room only..not helpful given Nics ankle, fortunately a few get off at the next town and we score a seat. At this point we realise... we dont actually know where we are going.. or more importantly ..where to get off. I am confident (of course) that the bus will stop in the centre of town and all will be fine... Nic has a slightly less sure feeling.
As we reach the edge of the city the driver pulls over and shouts something in spanish, there is much mumbling and confusion amongst the other foriegners and some people begin getting off, the driver continues shouting and adds some arm waving for effect. My highly developed spanish skills now came to the fore, after listening and watching for a few moments, i come to the conclusion that.. the city is blocked off and this bus will go no further... so.. GET OUT AND WALK!.
Nic approaches the driver and tries to get some idea of where we are, where to go... or how far away we are... her spanish.... his english.. and both of their arm waving informs us.. we shoudl walk.. "that way, then left"... phew, glad weve got that cleared up :)
So, we are standing on a rundown street in Malaga with no map, no idea where we are and only my rudimentary (read "non existent" ) spanish to help us. We head off in the direction the driver pointed thinking that with Nics high speed hobbling and our cluelessness this could be an interesting day...by the way.. it was about 11am and already 27 degrees.
one of the great benefits of just seeing what happens was, just across a bridge we happened to come across the Malaga Gallery of Contempary Art. What a bonus, our fave art and it has just opened.. and its FREE!!... in we go... and it was superb, some terrific pieces, some simple, some mind boggling. Some that just looked pretty and others that opened your mind... all you could want from art. we left thinking, well no matter what happens now.. it has already been a worthwhile day out.
We continue
Its time for lunch and that famous restaurant McDonalds beckons however we fight the urge and instead sit down at the terrace table of a traditional Spanish Cafe', We are delighted with our food and the service by Manuel the waiter is just brilliant.
We have a chat to the tourist office which guides us to a bus stop that will take us to the top of the Hill where the Alcazabar and Gilbrafaro castles are located... a wonderful bus ride at a cost of 1.40 euros each take 20 mins and drops us at the door of Gilbarfaro Castle, this is the younger of the 2 castles.. being only 700 or so years old.
I am almost unable to describe this building, but even more the views from it, it quite simply left us speechless, sitting high above Malaga the views take your breath away, a huge surrounding wall with walk ways all along it mean that every second step seems to open another different sight, from city, to sea, to mountains and a million kilometres in between, at times we just stood, mouths agape and said wow. It of course had the super thick walls, beautiful gateways and buildings, trees, gardens... everything and all of it under the brightest, hottest sun weve experienced for nine long months, it had now reached over 30 degrees.
Next it was to Alcazabar, the name alone is enough to create images in our minds.
apparently i am using too much space, so will have to go to another post... see you on the next page..
Friday, April 15, 2011
Spain day 3 .... Lazzzzyyyyyyyyyyyyyy day
Its such a strain being on holidays, what we need is a rest. With Nic's twisted ankle and the opportunity of sunshine and warmth it was decided that a lazy day on the beach was required.
The hotel is just ideal for us, ok it hasnt been updted since the 80s and its pretty simple in terms of a room etc, but its clean, has a functioning kitchen, has an onsite supermaket, lovely swimming pool, and is right on the beach. It also has a restaurant (which is of no use to us) which has shows every evening, Nic mentioned the stunning performance of "Grease" already. One of the strange things about the hotel which we had read about on trip advisor before we left was the 2.50 euro per day charge for sun beds around the pool... an absurdity but one we were ready for, therefore i assumed there would be a charge for the beach sunbeds also.
The beach is very nice, not golden sands but somewhere between Adelaides gold.. and Bali's brown. We left the room at about 10am ish... arrived at the beach about 3.30 pm... (no not really it jus seemed that long due to Nic's hobbling speed,) selected our sunbeds and laid back awaiting the sunbed guy to come around and take our money... eventually he wandered up... 4.50 euros.... FOUR FIFTY EUROS... i mean seriously... come on... a euro is about 95p... so effectively the sunbeds are going to cost us a total of $15 for the day... but the sun and warmth and comfort is too much to turn down so i "cheerfully" hand over the cash and lay back to enjoy my headphones and the beautiful sunny Mediteranean.
we stayed a couple of hours..went back to the room, had some lunch then headed back down for another couple of hours, Nic plastered in 50+ sunscreen and me hiding in the shade of our rattan umbrella (see its not just a sunbed for 4.50.. you also get the umbrella, what a bargain). I made one attempt at going for a swim in the Med.. but, by crikey that was well cold.... so, we spent another couple of hours doing nothinggggggggggzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
In previous holidays to Bali and Kuala Lumpur, we had been to shows that have the local/native dances being performed and we had planned to try to see some Flamenco dancing on this trip, how lucky we were that the hotels show for tonight was infact flamenco dancing... mind you given the "quality" of the Grease show... we didnt expect too much. The sign announcing " show profesional " didnt fill us with confidence.
For the Grease show, we arrived a tad late and missed the first half... the room/restaurant had seating for perhaps 150 people... and there were..... hmmm maybe 20 there. So for the Flamenco we arrived early and grabbed the table front and centre... as the start time drew closer the room began to pulsate with the expectation and excitement of the ever growing crowd... which had now reached perhaps as many as .... wow...umm... yes id say at least 7... or even 8 people.
Interesting to note that generally, we find ourselves at clubs or art shows or theatre shows in which we appear a little old and out of place... this was not the case tonight... i looked around the room to be thrilled by the fact that my hair was NOT the whitest in the room.
Eventually the show began... the appreciate crowd were infact treated to a terrific and very very skilled and professional example of Flamenco. the dancers were terrific and wow it is such a high tempo and strong dance... im guessing its all about the bullfighting etc, but it really was a fabulous show and very well done... AND... it was FREE... the perfect evening in my opinion. :)
Eventually we hobbled back to the room ready for tomorrows trip to Malaga.
The hotel is just ideal for us, ok it hasnt been updted since the 80s and its pretty simple in terms of a room etc, but its clean, has a functioning kitchen, has an onsite supermaket, lovely swimming pool, and is right on the beach. It also has a restaurant (which is of no use to us) which has shows every evening, Nic mentioned the stunning performance of "Grease" already. One of the strange things about the hotel which we had read about on trip advisor before we left was the 2.50 euro per day charge for sun beds around the pool... an absurdity but one we were ready for, therefore i assumed there would be a charge for the beach sunbeds also.
The beach is very nice, not golden sands but somewhere between Adelaides gold.. and Bali's brown. We left the room at about 10am ish... arrived at the beach about 3.30 pm... (no not really it jus seemed that long due to Nic's hobbling speed,) selected our sunbeds and laid back awaiting the sunbed guy to come around and take our money... eventually he wandered up... 4.50 euros.... FOUR FIFTY EUROS... i mean seriously... come on... a euro is about 95p... so effectively the sunbeds are going to cost us a total of $15 for the day... but the sun and warmth and comfort is too much to turn down so i "cheerfully" hand over the cash and lay back to enjoy my headphones and the beautiful sunny Mediteranean.
we stayed a couple of hours..went back to the room, had some lunch then headed back down for another couple of hours, Nic plastered in 50+ sunscreen and me hiding in the shade of our rattan umbrella (see its not just a sunbed for 4.50.. you also get the umbrella, what a bargain). I made one attempt at going for a swim in the Med.. but, by crikey that was well cold.... so, we spent another couple of hours doing nothinggggggggggzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
In previous holidays to Bali and Kuala Lumpur, we had been to shows that have the local/native dances being performed and we had planned to try to see some Flamenco dancing on this trip, how lucky we were that the hotels show for tonight was infact flamenco dancing... mind you given the "quality" of the Grease show... we didnt expect too much. The sign announcing " show profesional " didnt fill us with confidence.
For the Grease show, we arrived a tad late and missed the first half... the room/restaurant had seating for perhaps 150 people... and there were..... hmmm maybe 20 there. So for the Flamenco we arrived early and grabbed the table front and centre... as the start time drew closer the room began to pulsate with the expectation and excitement of the ever growing crowd... which had now reached perhaps as many as .... wow...umm... yes id say at least 7... or even 8 people.
Interesting to note that generally, we find ourselves at clubs or art shows or theatre shows in which we appear a little old and out of place... this was not the case tonight... i looked around the room to be thrilled by the fact that my hair was NOT the whitest in the room.
Eventually the show began... the appreciate crowd were infact treated to a terrific and very very skilled and professional example of Flamenco. the dancers were terrific and wow it is such a high tempo and strong dance... im guessing its all about the bullfighting etc, but it really was a fabulous show and very well done... AND... it was FREE... the perfect evening in my opinion. :)
Eventually we hobbled back to the room ready for tomorrows trip to Malaga.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
day 2 part 2
For some reason the blog is forcing us to make another post..so, here is the rest of Gibraltar...
We stopped at the entrance to St Michaels cave. This is a limestone cave, which most of you will be familiar with, but what was different is that there was no guide leading you throught and constantly telling you not to touch, and they didn't give naff names to the stalactites and stalagmites, they let them speak for themselves. When we walked into the first cavern we were awestruck by the sheer size of it but then we went down some stairs where no-one else was going and the place opened up into the most enormous space with giant formations at every turn.
This is the cross section of a stalactite which had fallen many years ago and you can see that it has ageing rings just like a tree. We walked around with our mouths gaping and I missed a step through staring at the ceiling; luckily it was a small stumble, no harm done.
At the exit of the cave we found our blanket badge souvenir and headed back to our bus. As we climbed still higher, the view became more and more fantastic and I couldn't get over the fact that Africa was just a stones throw away.
Next stop, the area where the monkeys reside. Some were sitting on the wall picking fleas and such out of others and some wandered warily past all the people hoping for food. It is illegal to feed them for their own health but I can attest after my Bali experience that it is not a good idea for human health either. There were steps going up to another level with a concrete bannister and we were lucky enough to see a juvenile do a face first slide to the bottom; it was adorable. Thankfully my nerves about the monkeys had gone although on the way back to the bus a lone rogue started jumping on heads and I made a fast exit.
Down the hill we went gaping at the view all the way with a 8thC castle turned prison, an award winning development of the Scottish barracks, the spot where John Lennon and Sean Connery got married (not to each other), and finally to the square where the hangings took place.
The bus dropped us at the square, where the main gates still stand. Inside the gates we went into a glass blowing shop where a guy had just finished blowing a beautiful jar. Glenn went through a doorway into the sales part of the shop and I followed him, well, I meant to follow him, somehow I managed, as I often do, to fail to see a step down and my body crumpled to the floor. There was serious pain. I sat up on the step for a few minutes, all the while being completely ignored by the staff, until I felt I could hobble out to a seat in the square. It was 2 hours until we had to be back at our coach so we sat in the lovely hot sun and I kept my foot up on a chair. With 40mins to go, we set off and it was pretty slow going, after 10mins I didn't think I could make it so Glenn went in a pharmacy and bought an ankle strap. Putting it on was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced! Glenn tried valiantly to piggy back me to the bus, but without viable stomach muscles, I couldn't keep myself up. I must say though, with my shortish skirt on, we must have looked a sight. The bus was open so we sat on the back seat until setting off home at 3.30. Once again we saw the passport man and the woman's friend communicating, even though they sat well apart on the bus. Over the border we went, wishing that we had had another couple of days to explore this amazing place.
As we dropped different people off at their hotels along the way, Glenn spotted the passport man, the friend and the original woman, who had obviously been either detained for the day or had spent it at the shops outside the border, get off the bus together, yes, whether or not he was her husband we will never know, but he was certainly with her and Glenn said they walked along in single file quite a distance apart....sparks were going to fly there we think.
Back at the room, Glenn gets a big bag of ice which he puts on my very raised ankle and there I stayed under house arrest for about 5 hours. All his years of football injuries stood him in good stead though because after all that ice, and, with the ankle strap on, I was able to to do all the things we had planned without too much pain. In case you think I have learnt my lesson and this will be my last sprained ankle, think again, I have poor spatial awareness and there are always going to lapses in my concentration; whether there is a step, how close to the door frame I am, how near to my finger that knife is, how quickly I can get my hand out the way before the hot oven door falls in on it etcetera. The best I can hope for is that my guardian husband is around to clean up the aftermath.
We stopped at the entrance to St Michaels cave. This is a limestone cave, which most of you will be familiar with, but what was different is that there was no guide leading you throught and constantly telling you not to touch, and they didn't give naff names to the stalactites and stalagmites, they let them speak for themselves. When we walked into the first cavern we were awestruck by the sheer size of it but then we went down some stairs where no-one else was going and the place opened up into the most enormous space with giant formations at every turn.
This is the cross section of a stalactite which had fallen many years ago and you can see that it has ageing rings just like a tree. We walked around with our mouths gaping and I missed a step through staring at the ceiling; luckily it was a small stumble, no harm done.
At the exit of the cave we found our blanket badge souvenir and headed back to our bus. As we climbed still higher, the view became more and more fantastic and I couldn't get over the fact that Africa was just a stones throw away.
Next stop, the area where the monkeys reside. Some were sitting on the wall picking fleas and such out of others and some wandered warily past all the people hoping for food. It is illegal to feed them for their own health but I can attest after my Bali experience that it is not a good idea for human health either. There were steps going up to another level with a concrete bannister and we were lucky enough to see a juvenile do a face first slide to the bottom; it was adorable. Thankfully my nerves about the monkeys had gone although on the way back to the bus a lone rogue started jumping on heads and I made a fast exit.
Down the hill we went gaping at the view all the way with a 8thC castle turned prison, an award winning development of the Scottish barracks, the spot where John Lennon and Sean Connery got married (not to each other), and finally to the square where the hangings took place.
The bus dropped us at the square, where the main gates still stand. Inside the gates we went into a glass blowing shop where a guy had just finished blowing a beautiful jar. Glenn went through a doorway into the sales part of the shop and I followed him, well, I meant to follow him, somehow I managed, as I often do, to fail to see a step down and my body crumpled to the floor. There was serious pain. I sat up on the step for a few minutes, all the while being completely ignored by the staff, until I felt I could hobble out to a seat in the square. It was 2 hours until we had to be back at our coach so we sat in the lovely hot sun and I kept my foot up on a chair. With 40mins to go, we set off and it was pretty slow going, after 10mins I didn't think I could make it so Glenn went in a pharmacy and bought an ankle strap. Putting it on was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced! Glenn tried valiantly to piggy back me to the bus, but without viable stomach muscles, I couldn't keep myself up. I must say though, with my shortish skirt on, we must have looked a sight. The bus was open so we sat on the back seat until setting off home at 3.30. Once again we saw the passport man and the woman's friend communicating, even though they sat well apart on the bus. Over the border we went, wishing that we had had another couple of days to explore this amazing place.
As we dropped different people off at their hotels along the way, Glenn spotted the passport man, the friend and the original woman, who had obviously been either detained for the day or had spent it at the shops outside the border, get off the bus together, yes, whether or not he was her husband we will never know, but he was certainly with her and Glenn said they walked along in single file quite a distance apart....sparks were going to fly there we think.
Back at the room, Glenn gets a big bag of ice which he puts on my very raised ankle and there I stayed under house arrest for about 5 hours. All his years of football injuries stood him in good stead though because after all that ice, and, with the ankle strap on, I was able to to do all the things we had planned without too much pain. In case you think I have learnt my lesson and this will be my last sprained ankle, think again, I have poor spatial awareness and there are always going to lapses in my concentration; whether there is a step, how close to the door frame I am, how near to my finger that knife is, how quickly I can get my hand out the way before the hot oven door falls in on it etcetera. The best I can hope for is that my guardian husband is around to clean up the aftermath.
Strap yourself in, this is going to be a long one; Gibraltar. Day 2
It's a slightly cool morning as we wait outside our hotel at 8.20 to be collected for our day trip. Along comes the coach just 10mins late (Glenn has been inside to ask if they can be phoned and they think he is mad...'it's only 10mins late' they say), the tour guide checks we have our passports and we are off. A lovely comfy coach about two thirds full so we had ample choice of seats and great views as we travelled along the Spanish coast.
Antonia gives information about the provinces and population and such as we go, in English, French and Spanish. Sadly English seemed to be her worst one although, if we understood French we might have found it was that. Anyway, we caught snatches of interesting information but generally we just enjoyed the landscape and the calm, open roads that we have missed for the last 9months.
As 'The Rock' gets closer we become more and more awestruck, it is magnificent and we are pretty excited at the prospect of ascending it. For your information, the rock is on the Iberian peninsular and covers 6.843 square kilometres. It ceded to Britain in 1713 under a Spanish treaty. There has been continual pressure to return Gibraltar to Spain but referendums have consistetly voted against. In 2006 an agreement was reached that it would more or less govern itself and public buildings are gradually being given to 'the people' for redevelopment. However, defence and foreign relations remain the responsibility of the UK.
We arrive at the border/checkpoint where we are asked to show our passports. The official takes one from a gentleman near us, looks at it suspiciously and then says 'That lady up there says she is your wife.' The man shakes his head and the official walks back toward the front, with his passport, picking up the woman as he goes. They disappear and we all sit there for about 10mins. A woman accompanying the 'illegal' woman got off and came back, and eventually the man gets off to see what is happening to his passport and comes back satisfied. Finally the official reappears and returns the man's passport, but the woman does not reappear; she clearly does not have a UK visa. An exciting interlude for a while but then we just wanted to get on.
What a surprise to get to the rock across the causeway we drove across the city's runway for the airport...look left, look right, completed this year...when a plane lands they just stop the traffic till its parked.
Gibraltar has a population of 35 thousand people of many nationalities. Much of where they live is high rise apartments on reclaimed land outside the defence wall which is still quite intact and there are still a couple of cannons mounted in their original positions. Our coach parked at 11 am and told us to meet back at 12 for our minibus tour up the rock. This was just enough time to sit and have lunch.
Our mini bus holds about 22 people and the driver plays a French audio guide after he has talked in VERY fast English with a Spanish accent....pay attention if you want to hear the info. No buildings are ever demolished on Gibraltar, if they are in need of repair then that is what they get. Lots of wartime buildings such as army barracks have been turned into apartments. The rock has been continually expanded by reclaiming land , the wall you see in the pics is the sea wall for the original rock..however they have (i guess) nearly doubled the size through reclamtion. Our mini bus driver told us that having been born on 'The Rock', his Dad had taken him fishing in a particular spot and then at 18, his Dad had taken him back to that same spot to teach him how to drive, not as I first thought a boat, but a car. I did wonder how much sea you are allowed to reclaim.
We stopped at this lighthouse as Africa came into view and had 15mins to look around and take pics. At this point, Glenn notices that the questionable passport man is communicating with the evicted woman's friend...hmmm something fishy here.
We breathed in as we went through some really thin tunnels and held on as the climb got steeper and the road got closer to the edge of a sheer drop. We spotted our first monkey and felt my pulse rate increase slightly....if you remember the incident in Bali when a large male thought I might like to give him a piggy back ride.
hmm... go to next page
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