Leaving Early
I set off from Measham at 5:30 on my much awaited (well, for at least 4 weeks, anyway) trip to Gibraltar. Google had promised me a journey of just over two hours to Heathrow, which sounded fine. The sat nav disagreed. It claimed the drive would take three and a half hours. That put me straight into panic mode before I’d even left the village. I trusted Google more than the car, but doubt crept in as the miles ticked by.
By the time I reached the M40–M25 junction, the numbers still made no sense. Heathrow is not 25 miles from there, and it certainly doesn’t take 90 minutes. A quick check revealed the problem. The sat nav had missed the first letter of the postcode. It was taking me to London W6 instead of Heathrow TW6. That explained everything. And I immediately relaxed. I mean, it’s feasible that you can lose an hour in queues when driving to Heathrow on a weekday morning. It’s happened to me before. So it took a while to conclude it was an error rather than bad traffic.
Parking and the Airport
Once I’d corrected the destination, the rest was easy. I parked up and waited for the shuttle bus. One arrived within five minutes. I was at Terminal 3 before you could say Jack Robinson. I think he was on the plane with me, but that’s another story.
Check‑in took no time. Security took no time. I’d parked just after eight and was eating breakfast airside by half past. The only problem was that my flight wasn’t until eleven. Still, a slow breakfast and a bit of reading never hurt anyone.
Waiting to Board
I was called to the gate just after ten. Then we waited, because the inbound flight was late and the ground crew weren’t ready. Boarding was by “groups”, but it was a bus transfer. Several groups ended up on the same bus. Because they called the groups in order, the non‑priority passengers boarded last and got off first. I’m sure there’s logic somewhere.
We took off about fifteen minutes late. The flight itself was dull, but I discovered the joy of noise‑cancelling headphones. I’d downloaded enough music to last the journey, and the headphones shut out the engine noise. Bliss.
Arriving in Gibraltar
Gibraltar Airport is small but charming. It’s modern, clean, and compact. There’s only one baggage carousel. I doubt they can fit more than two planes on the apron at once, so I don’t think the single carousel is ever problemmatic. Passport control was quick. UK passports still get the fast treatment here.
I wasn’t sure how to reach the hotel. Well, I knew the route ‘cos, you know, Google and that. But I wasn’t sure how I wanted to get there. A taxi felt extravagant. The first bus I tried wasn’t going the right way. Apparently there other places that buses go to apart from “the bus station in the middle” – who’dda thunk it.
So I walked. Walking added, of course, the extra delight of walking across a live runway. The best feature of Gibraltar Airport is that the building is north of the runway and everything else is south of it. Until they built the new tunnel, all vehicles would have to wait for up to 20 minutes whenever a plane was due to land or take off. The tunnel means that vehicles are now forced to go a different route, but pedestrians and cyclists can still cross the runway. So that’s what I did. Except I’d spent so long thinking about how to travel (and failing to find a geocache) that the plane I’d arrived on was going home again. I had to stand for 15 minutes before I could cross. I like to consider it as an essential part of the Gibraltar experience.
The walk to the hotel took about twenty‑five minutes. Gibraltar isn’t big. By the time I reached The Eliott, I had my basic orientation sorted. Airport north. Town south. Sea everywhere else.
Settling In
The hotel was ready for me. It’s a level above what I usually book. The room is large enough for several extra people, though I’m not planning to invite any. After a shower and a change of clothes, I headed back up to Casemates Square. I stopped at the cathedral for a quick cache on the way. It’s not a Church Micro, but it frankly should be. And then also on the way the first of what is going to be very many earthcaches here. This one was a war memorial made of Carrara Marble.
Those got my geocaching off to a start, which was good after failing with a letterbox cache outside the airport. More of that on another day, most likely.
Dinner O’Clock
Casemates Square is Tommy Tourist Central, but you have to try it once. I found a sports bar that served me half a chicken with chips, coleslaw, and sweetcorn naccompanied by a not insignificant quantity of Cruzcampo. When the bill arrived, I had a “we’re not in Kansas any more” moment. £3 a pint in tourist central. Other places have been pricier, but still well below UK averages. Maybe there’s less tax.
Evening Wind‑Down
After dinner I wandered back to the hotel and had a whisky before bed. It had been a long day, but I was here. I’d found my first couple of Gibraltese caches.
I’d also discovered (last week) that, due to an unfortunate incident involving Mo Farah and a charity run, Gibraltar parkrun is cancelled on the Saturday I’m here.
That cancellation gains me a half day, so I’ve decided on a new mission. I’m going to try to find every cache in Gibraltar. There are only sixty‑four on my list. Twenty are adventure labs and one is an event. A good number are EarthCaches or virtuals, which are hard to fail unless you simply don’t go there. There are also two caches where the icon is in Gibraltar, but the actual cacxhe is in Gibraltar, rather than in Gibraltar.
