I left Cadiz with the intention of staying at the “delightfully relaxed” town of Tarifa (online recommendation) and then taking the ferry over to Morocco. I got to Tarifa, looked around, found out that one person’s “delightfully relaxed” is my “dreadfully boring” and that the ferry is only for EU passengers, so I got back on the bus for the ferry in Algeciras. On the way I changed my mind and thought I would just go to Gibraltar and take the ferry from there. I stopped in La Linea on the border with Gib because the guide book said it was cheaper and very close. It is good to be flexible.
Hostal Paris, or so the sign said. It was in need of a few more adjectives, but I was too tired to care. The clerk, feeling confident with the rapidly advancing night, put the squeeze on me for more dough. He said that they had no more single rooms and that I would have to fork out for a double. He could have been holding a knife; the effect would have been the same.
It was time to start playing the game:
A double cost too much for me.
He had no choice but to charge me full price.
I would have to find somewhere else.
He might be able to give me a break.
I did not really want to stay here anyway.
He could cut it more.
I needed a few nights and can’t afford much.
He could not do any better.
I started to walk away saying I could only pay one euro more a night.
He said he would sacrifice his future economic well being and let me stay out of generosity.
I said I was very grateful.
I got my key and a bigger room.
In my two days there I only heard two other people in the echoing tile hallways, the place was jammed alright.
I hit the streets for a kebab and the game went on: I ordered a beer and a super kebab—can’t go wrong there, yet I knew I was in trouble when the open bottle of Budweiser hit the table and everyone else had the local swill. When I went to pay he said it was ten euro. Wait a minute. Six for the kebab and three for the fancy imported beer equals ten? He insisted it did and only relented after I did the math for him three times in as many languages. Amazingly, he had the nerve to claim that he did not have one euro in change! He spent a few minutes “looking” and when I did not leave, made a loud, dramatic plea to the customers for change. I left with my euro.
You know right away that Gibraltar is a different kind of place; the only available land for landing planes also happens to be the only land route in. The road goes right through the middle of the airport runway, giving you a weird feeling of being exposed as you walk across the tarmac.
The county is a one big rock stuck out in the sea and was used by the Moors, Spanish, and British. The British did the most tunneling, digging 33 miles of tunnels all the way around and through, creating enough space to shelter 30,000 people. They threw the debris in the sea and ended up with the flat dry land on which the city is built. The culture ended up being a weird mix of half Spanish and half British with Moorish influences.
I took the minibus tour of the rock (cheaper than the tram and a whole lot less walking up and down hills). The first stop was to gaze at the mysterious dark shape of Africa looming across the straight. Second up, or down really, was the natural caves. They are riddled with stalagmites and have enough room for an amphitheater that is used for music performances. And then there were the apes. The only population of non-human primates in Europe lives way up on the rock. Their life consists of begging, eating, sleeping, and biting the occasional stupid tourist. Even though they may be very cute, they are still wild animals. I strayed too close to a group of three young apes and became a human jungle gym and to my great pleasure managed to avoid being smeared with poo.
Last was the great siege tunnels of which you can only see a disappointing 100 yards out of the 33 miles. Cannons, mannequins, and story boards give a tease as to what is deeper without giving any real satisfaction. It was still cool though.
Now I am ready for Morocco. Unfortunately, the ferry in Gib only leaves on Fridays. So it is back to port of Algeciras for me.
