Shopping Before Scaling
A day of scaling the Rock, because that’s what every guidebook, leaflet, taxi driver and passing pigeon says you should do on your first day in Gibraltar. Although I might as well have called this post Monkey Business. You may detect a theme. If you don’t, you will soon.
I began the day with breakfast in the hotel’s top‑floor restaurant. The view over the bay was calm, which was more than I could say for my preparations. I’d broken my sunglasses the night before, and I hadn’t packed any shorts (because it’s only April, right?). For a day involving sunshine, climbing, and monkeys, this felt like an oversight of near‑biblical proportions. Moses had tablets; I had none of the essentials.
Most shops in Gibraltar don’t open until ten, so I had time to ponder my life choices and consider whether I should be trusted with adult responsibilities. Once the shutters rolled up, I grabbed sunglasses and shorts, and then turned to the main event. I was heading up the Rock. I’d been warned to be wary of the furry little oiks.
Still, if you’re geocaching, you go where the caches are. You can’t duck out of it just because you might encounter a rebellious simian. I wasn’t sure how many I’d see, but the answer turned out to be “quite a lot”, even at lower altitudes where you might expect they wouldn’t come.
Climbing in the Shade
The cable car is closed for a year while they build a bigger and better one. Presumably one that can carry more tourists, more monkeys, and more dashed hopes. That means more taxis, more tours, and more people hoping the monkeys behave. I decided to walk. Much of the lower route is in shade during the morning, which helps when you’re about to sweat like a macaque in a sauna.
Seriously though, if you’re in Gibraltar in April, the sun doesn’t come round to the west side of the Rock until midday or later. The slope is steep enough that you escape the sunshine entirely. For someone who grew up with hair the colour of an Oompa‑Loompa’s skin (1971 edition), you can imagine that strong sunshine and I have a less-than-friendly relationship.
I began by climbing the Union Jack Steps, passed Devil’s Gap Battery, and found Gibraltar’s oldest geocache. Then I joined the Charles V Wall. I went down a section of it on my way to reach the Windsor Suspension Bridge. I assuming from the name “Charles V Wall” that Charleses I thru IV met an unfortunate end very much like Jack, of “Jack and Jill” nursery rhyme fame. It’s kinda steep on that wall.
Bridging the Gap
The bridge was quiet but it took me two crossings to effectively count the number of vertical steel wires required for the virtual cache there. There might have been an occasional rustle in the bushes. Possibly a Russell too, but who knows. Monkey rustles, I assume. I kept moving. No point giving them ideas. They have enough of their own.
As an aside, having said I should have called this post Monkey Business, I did encounter quite a lot of stuff I suspect to have been monkey business on the paths once I left the main roads. Thankfully I avoided the proverbial silent footstep all day. My shoes remain unsullied, as in free of excrement, rather than as in “lacking gonads but good at fighting” – I have a long and chequered history of stepping in things I wish I hadn’t whilst out caching. So not doing that today was a bonus.
Caves, Cliffs and Monkey Central
After the bridge I climbed a steep path onto the road below St Martin’s Cave. The cave is limestone, with stalactites (dangly ones) and stalagmites (sticky‑uppy ones). It was a cool, damp pause in a day otherwise filled with bright sunlight and mild primate paranoia. I’d bought the “Full Monty” Nature Reserve ticket, so I went in. You may as well get your money’s worth when you’ve already paid a monkey or two for the privilege.
Speaking of which, the shop at St Martin’s Cave is notorious for aggressive monkeys. There were a few fairly passive ones when I was there. They were brave enough to actually enter the building. Probably encouraged by the people taking photos with them. Nothing says “natural behaviour” like a macaque posing for Instagram.
From there I climbed up towards the Skywalk, just south of the old cable car station. This is monkey central. You’re not supposed to feed them, but several taxi drivers were doing exactly that. And then people wonder why the monkeys swarm, grab bags, and occasionally go full Planet of the Apes. They left me alone all day, which I took as a sign that I wasn’t on their ape‑tite list. Either that or they’d already had lunch.
Guns, Tunnels and a Runway Show
I headed downhill to the Military Heritage Centre and then back uphill to the Great Siege Tunnel. By now it was half past two. I sat on the viewing platform because I’d seen the BA afternoon flight arrive earlier (from the Heritage Centre). Watching it leave again felt like a good idea. Gibraltar’s runway is always worth a look. It’s aviation with added drama. It looks quite small until you see a vehicle driving on it. Then it suddenly looks quite big.
On the way back down to town there was one more physical cache. It required a scurry under a mucky roadway. Not glamorous, but geocaching rarely is. I found it, dusted myself off, and headed back to the hotel for a shower.
Curry and Football
Dinner was easy. Neha Curry House is about fifty yards from the hotel, and it served up an excellent biryani. The sort of biryani that makes you briefly consider whether you should move to Gibraltar permanently.
After that I had an appointment with some football. Europa League quarter‑finals and my beloved Forest had a showdown against Porto. I tried the iPad, but all my sports subscriptions were blocked outside the UK.
Google suggested The Trafalgar Bar. The hotel concierge recommended The Ship, but that’s all the way up in Ocean Village, maybe half an hour’s walk. I didn’t have the legs for that, so I wandered over to The Trafalgar. It was quiet. The barman found the Forest game for me.
A few minutes later John arrived. He’s a long‑time Gibraltar resident and a committed Forest fan. So the two of us sat in an otherwise empty bar, watching the match and chatting.
Apparently the Trafalgar does a mean Sunday roast. And there’s another Forest game on Sunday, if I fancy going bananas again. Maybe the proverbial stars are aligned.
