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.