Gib tales (2) - Call me

Let's look at public utilities in Gib - gas, electricity, water and telecommunications. No this is not boring, this is very relevant to today's current news post!

First things first. There is no natural gas, the only gas is bottled, ie butane. With the majority of people living in flats, often without lifts, electricity tends to be the most common energy supply used in homes. Restaurants, bars and clubs tend to use gas however.

Electricity is provided by Gibraltar's own power station, and a new one is set to come on stream in 2011. Gibraltar Electricity Authority (Gibelec) is responsible for generation, distribution and supply of electricity. Electricity is one of the products in Gib that is relatively expensive.

Water is perhaps the most interesting of the utilities. Courtesy of the Gib govt web site:

There are no permanent natural water supplies in Gibraltar, main sources used to be the water catchments on the rock face,

Old water catchments...


which collected rainwater and supplied the reservoirs hollowed out inside the Rock, and wells on the sandy plain to the north. The main supply is currently provided by an efficient number of distillers, distilling sea water located at the North Mole.

Water is provided by AquaGib and there are two parallel supplies - one of distilled seawater for drinking water, and one of seawater for such things as toilets, fire hydrants, and various other non-drinking water supplies. The water supply is worth a post in its own right, but not for today.

Call me ....

Telecommunications. The major provider in Gibraltar is Gibtelecom. Yes everything here does include 'Gib' in the name. It's still known locally as Gibtel which was one of its predecessors.

Gibtelecom has a turnover of around £31.5M. It is owned jointly by the government of Gibraltar, and Telekom Slovenije, which bought a 50% shareholding in 2007.

There are almost 90 fixed lines per 100 population, and Gibtelecom also provides mobile and internet services. More than 80% of households have an internet link.

Of course telecommunications has been a source of controversy between Spain and Gibraltar. Although Gib was allocated its own International Direct Dialling (IDD) code back in the 70s Spain refused to acknowledge it.

When IDD was introduced in Spain, Gib was included as part of the Spanish numbering system, with a code of 9567. Even a few years ago, we were ringing this code from Spain.

In a nutshell this meant that only 30,000 numbers could be dialled from Spain and led to a shortage of new numbers that could be allocated to Gib residents. And at the same time, international callers using cheap rates that went via Spain, meant that callers either heard the Gib number didn't exist, or if they were connected - Telefonica (Spanish company) kept the profits.

And as for mobiles. Well, Gibtelecom was prevented from roaming agreements with Spanish operators.

Same old story?

The Cordoba Agreement of 2006 removed these restrictions (and included a whole load of other stuff) and it finally came into force in 2007. So now Gib really really has its own IDD and we can even get roaming in Spain. Note when roaming in Spain, please choose any other operator than grasping Telefonica.

Today's news story.

Well only that Señor Sanchez wants a piece of Gib's arse via the telecoms industry.

According to the Gib Chronicle:

Having watered down his controversial plan to charge visitors to the Rock, Alejandro Sánchez, the mayor of La Linea, has now set his eyes on another element of the Gibraltarian economy in his effort to find revenue streams for his cash-strapped town.

The mayor said he would ask Spain's Ministry for Foreign Affairs and its Finance Ministry for details on the income generated in Gibraltar by online gaming.

 The mayor said this business would not have been possible without the Cordoba agreement, which radically expanded the number of phone lines available to Gibraltar. He also noted that fibre optic lines linking Gibraltar to the world run through La Linea.

With that in mind, the mayor wants a slice of the action.

"La Linea wants to know what it is getting in return, given that without those cables passing through our town, that business would not exist today," the town council said in a statement at the weekend.


No doubt Señor Sánchez has taken into account the income taken by Telefonica, resulting from the restrictions previously placed on Gibraltar by Spain ?

Why on earth is anyone claiming financial compensation for some other country's industry just because something goes through their land/air space/sea space (sore point that one)? Oh. Because they are short of money. And Gib is a profitable on-line gaming centre. So what? Nothing to do with La Linea. At all.

And, regarding yesterday's post about what is anyone in the UK actually doing for Gibraltar? Well it seems William Hague gave a short speech at the Tory Party Conference saying that in his election campaign he had stated he he would not let Gibraltar down, and that now he was in government he intended to defend Gib's interests strongly.
Hmm hope so.

Territorial waters dispute soon. Honest.

Gib tales (1)

Here is the first in a new series of posts about Gibraltar for my friends who may not know much about the place. And anyone else who is interested.

When I first arrived 14 years ago on holiday I knew two things - 1) that it was British, and 2) that my father spent some time here when he was in the Royal Navy. Oh, and that there were wonderful apes/monkeys - correctly speaking, monkeys - Barbary Macaques.

Monkey outside the tax office - don't think they have to pay taxes though...


So the format of these posts (if they ever get past this first one) is that there will be a few facts about Gib, followed by a news story/current event.

Here we go with a few of the basic facts.

Gibraltar is a British Overseas Territory, a former Crown Colony. Here is Wiki's quick summary:

The British Overseas Territories are fourteen territories of the United Kingdom which, although they do not form part of the United Kingdom itself, fall under its jurisdiction.They were acquired during the time of the British Empire and have not become independent or ceded to another country. The name "British Overseas Territory" was introduced by the British Overseas Territories Act 2002, and replaced the name British Dependent Territory, which was introduced by the British Nationality Act 1981. Before 1981, the territories were known as colonies or Crown colonies.

and there is more info about the territories here. Britain retains responsibility for foreign policy and defence (hang onto this point, it is important).

People from Gibraltar are Gibraltarians. English is the official language but locals also speak Spanish and Llanito. Do not expect to find a little colony of Brits here.

The Gibraltar government is elected by Gibraltar residents. The current party in power is the Gibraltar Social Democrats (GSD), led by Peter Caruana, who is the Chief Minister. The next election is due in 2011.

It is NOT an island - a common misconception - but is connected to the Iberian peninsula by a narrow isthmus, with the border town of La Linea. It is about three miles long by 3/4 of a mile wide, so its overall area is approx 2 1/4 square miles. The population is around 30,000 people.

Gibraltar is the nearest airport in the world to its city. Coming across the frontier into Gib currently involves driving, cycling, or walking across the airport runway. When planes are due to land/take off, the route across the airport is closed leading to queues and delays.

Runway - and past that, La Linea, and Spain. (For the pedants I had better quickly add that La Linea is actually past the rather nice MOD properties and Western Beach. Spain begins at the built-up bit).



Thousands of cross-border workers - from Spain - cross the frontier every day for higher wages than they can get in Spain, (assuming they can currently even get a job in Spain), and to take money out of Gib. Figures range from between 4000 workers to 12000. The truth is probably at the lower end for legitimate employees, but just add on all those people working on the black, mmmm, easily near the top figure.

Some important dates in Gib's history are:

711 - conquered by Muslims

1309 - taken by Spanish

1333 - surrendered to a Muslim siege

1462 - recaptured by Spain

1704 - taken by an Anglo-Dutch fleet as part of the Spanish war of succession

1713 - Treaty of Utrecht - Spain cedes Gibraltar to Britain in perpetuity

Onto this post's current news issue, which has been rumbling on for some time now.

The proposed toll

The mayor of La Linea, Alejandro Sanchez, has proposed a €5 toll each way for some people to enter and leave Gibraltar. As the stories change virtually every week, it is difficult to say who would be included and excluded.

Residents of La Linea would almost certainly be excluded. Included? ... Gib residents? Tourists? Spanish residents from San Roque? Algeciras? Sevilla? Madrid?

It seems, according to most local newspapers, that the coffers of the La Linea Ayuntamiento (town council) are rather bare. To the extent that council employees have not been paid for some weeks and have been staging strikes outside the town hall.

Well where better to go than to hit rich Gibraltar? Huh?

1) Is there anywhere in Europe where you have to pay to cross a frontier? Remember the Europe of free movement ?

2) All Gibraltarians are not rich. Jobs are hard to find (often done cheaper by someone who doesn't live in Gib and working on the black) and the cost of living is higher than in Spain. Unless you smoke and drink spirits of course, in which case Gib is paradise. But unemployment benefit in Gib is not a patch on Spanish benefit. What do Spaniards get? Some 70% or so of their last wage? £80 a week here for a married couple. For 13 weeks. Not for a couple of years like the Spanish system (wonders why Spanish coffers are slightly empty?)

3) What is everyone doing about it? Caruana? Our MEPs? Giles Chichester? Trevor Colman, Earl of Dartmouth? Ashley Fox? Julie Girling? Graham Watson?

Well the three Tories - Chichester, Fox and Girling have at least said something. A combined effort of writing to British Foreign Secretary William Hague, EU Commission President José Manuel Barosso (Portuguese), and dear Señor Sanchez.

And the result so far?

The Ayuntamiento de Andalucía and the Spanish government in Madrid have said this proposed toll is illegal. And they can't actually do anything about it as it hasn't happened or words to that effect. Much the same from the EU. Not sure what William Hague has done (his website is rather bare on his Gib efforts, somewhat like his head, oops not fair that one) or whether Señor Sanchez ever responded to Ms Girling.

So where are we? Not knowing what is going on basically. Now Señor Sanchez has come up with a crafty little wheeze. He is considering fiddling with two routes in and out of Gib, one toll-free - and the other - the toll route of course.

Oh and the Mayor of La Linea thinks the entry charge for the Upper Rock national park in Gibraltar is illegal. Hello, Señor Sanchez. This is not a toll to cross the border to a foreign country to go to our homes. This is an entry charge for a nature reserve. Not heard of that before? Nor is it any of your business what the Gib government does within Gibraltar.

Gibraltar is not a nature reserve. Or a theme park. We don't deserve to be charged to go in and out of the place we live. And neither do the people who want to visit Gibraltar, or the cross-border workers who come here every day. Or even the Spaniards who regularly come here to fill up with cheap fuel, tabs and booze - or is that the problem too? Possibly spending money in Gib rather than La Linea? Go fill your coffers elsewhere Señor.

Next post - territorial waters dispute.

And you thought living in Gib was an idyllic peaceful place in the sun?

Grapes - and anis .....

'Catalina, Catalina,' shouted José. Which invariably means there is some free food in the offing. It was grapes from his daughter's finca.

It took me by surprise the first time our Spanish neighbours started giving us food.

Not just fresh food - but even cooked meals, if the family didn't eat it all - we got the leftovers. I felt like I was on the receiving line in a soup kitchen. OK so I haven't done soup kitchens but I have had the free hand-outs at the Krishnas. Fortunately, unlike Krishna food, the Spanish food from next door wasn't the same every day and eventually I got used to it and started to enjoy the novelty of someone providing me with free, fresh and tasty meals.

It's not just our immediate neighbours either. Because we live in a small community people regard each other as neighbours when they live a few streets - or more - away. And when there is a glut of veg, the Spanish don't want it to go to waste so huge bags of food are liberally handed out. Well, only to people they like I suppose. Artichokes, cucumbers, cabbages, courgettes, tomatoes, onions, aubergines, broad beans, runner beans - whatever is the crop at the time.

But like everywhere, the economy is on a downturn and people are struggling. So the freebies don't happen too often these days.

What to do with a few kilos of grapes though? Partner doesn't like fruit, and I eat it for breakfast sometimes - but not that many grapes. Even though they were Moscatel grapes. He came up with a bright idea. At New Year, Spaniards have a custom of trying to eat 12 grapes before the 12 midnight chimes have finished. They also drink the odd few glasses of cava but that part isn't relevant for this.

So grapes matured in anis are a traditional Christmas/New Year thing. Our neighbours usually given us some every Christmas in a glass with the accompanying liquid. They invariably do it early in the morning so it basically blows our heads off for the rest of the day.

Off we went to buy the bottle of anis. Most makes of anis are sweet but there are a couple of dry ones. Anis de Mono is our poison of choice.

i washed the grapes, and filled the jar. A whole bottle of anis went into the grape jar!!!!!!!!

They plumped up in no time, swelling out with the anis. After a couple of days, I had to try one. Yummy. Of course. I decided to spoon a little liquid into my teacup which I was eating them in (run out of bowls - all in the dishwasher).

Wait!!!! Where is that potent incredibly strong grapey anisy liquid? Not there. Just some watery nothing in particular. All the anis had magically transferred itself to the grapes. How could it do that? More to the point, how come when my neighbour dished up grapes and liquid - it tasted like pure alcohol?

Got it. My crafty - and generous - neighbour wasn't really giving us the left over dregs from the fermenting grapes. She had topped up our glasses from a brand new bottle. No wonder we always felt rat-arsed.





The jar got topped up with more grapes on our next visit :) and the left overs were given to the chickens who seemed very happy. No chickens were fed grapes with anis, I add hastily.

The yellow buoy

It was there bobbing in the distance. Not bobbing very much because the sea was so tranquil.

Alluring, enticing, and saying 'Swim to me.'

But I didn't. Apart from anything else it was some time since I had been swimming, and although confident enough in a pool, the sea is another matter. The 'beach' where we live in Spain is shingly and drops sharply as soon as you enter the sea. One meter knee height, two meters thigh, three waist and four shoulders. After that you can't put your foot on the bottom.

Personal survival medals, life-saving bronze medallion, long distance certificates mean nothing if you are caught in the sea. Cramp? Heart attack? Stung by one of the summer shoals of Medusa (large jellyfish) ?

So I looked at it longingly. And swam part way out, further than anyone else had gone that morning so that was good enough.

And then, the German (?) couple started to swim. They went as far as I had gone. They went further. They swam to MY buoy. They turned round and swam to the next one. Then they came back.

It was no good, I had to get there too. But not that day. Not even that week.

The water is well warm in August. The next time we went, I swam lazily around enjoying the wonderful waves swooping me up and down, and being able to float on my back without moving a finger.

That yellow buoy was still there. I needed to get a bit nearer. Improve my distance. I swam leisurely towards it. There were people playing around on an inflatable near to me. Suddenly the buoy was nearer. I put on a spurt, but then, he just remained there, laughing and taunting. And receded.

This wasn't good enough. I could reach him. I wasn't tired, I was enjoying the swim, and I needed to reach him now. I had to achieve the swim. There was no-one around any more. The inflatables had gone. Partner was a million miles away - or might as well have been - still watching me from the shore. I had no idea how deep the water was - but does that matter?

The yellow buoy smiled at me and then he was within reaching distance. I swam up to him, touched him lightly as though it was the other end of the pool, and turned around to head for shore.

Swimming in a straight line was not an option. Even though the sea was relatively calm, there was still a current. I could have gone with the flow, and ended up walking up the beach. Easier to swim slightly against it and keep focussing on my target. The large volleyball posts just behind Partner.

I tried to ensure I emerged out of the water in a suitable Ursula Undress fashion and wandered nonchalantly back to my towel. Not tired, not anything, apart from pleased and having had the best swim for years.

I didn't intend to do it again. I was happy enough I had achieved my goal. But the next time I got in the water, the yellow buoy was enticing me again. 'Come here. Swim to me.' So I did.

And it was much easier, I wasn't worried there was no-one around, I hadn't noticed any jellyfish, and it was such an irresistible experience.

It was a good break and we enjoyed it. As some of you know, the journey back wasn't quite so good. Maybe I will write about that, but later. For today, the nice things in life.

Some pix of fun in the sun....

Theft - Headlong - The White Tiger

Being in Spain - in my internet free zone at home - means lots of time to read.

So, I had a nice Peter Carey book. It was called 'Theft: a love story' (2006) and described variously as a tale about art (and art dealers), scams, relationships - and apparently a story that would make the reader laugh.

Well, although I enjoyed it, as I enjoy all Carey novels, I didn't find it at all funny. Sad and immoral but not funny. Perhaps I've lost my sense of humour.

But having read that, it reminded me of another book I had bought some time ago, one about art history.

I searched through all four bookcases - but could I find it? No. So after repeatedly looking in them all over again, I finally found it hiding at the back of a cupboard - which also has books in it - four bookcases naturally not providing enough space so other furniture has been appropriated for books.

Michael Frayn's Headlong (1999), and short listed for the Booker Prize in that year. I remembered the general plot, but not the detail, so happily sat down to plough through it again.

Plough through it was the word. I enjoyed it the first time around, but was I ever fed up this time with reading about Breughel and iconography and iconology. Or was it iconoclasts? How to ruin a decent plot with really too much academic/intellectual content. Or maybe once bearable maybe enjoyable, yes, but - never again.



Anyway, having finished with art - history and dealers and crazy relationships - onto a totally different book. The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga, (2008) and a Booker prizewinner. Yeah, ok, I do end up reading Booker nominated or winning novels.

It was a good read. Very black humour and totally amoral and utterly enjoyable. Try it. Probably the best of the three.

Round the town and down the coast

No history today - but some urban and coastal walks.

There are quite a few geocaches in the Rincon de la Victoria/La Cala del Moral area. They are all easy to get to and easy to find, and involve a shortish but pleasant walk.

First at Rincon is the Casa Fuerte de Bezmiliana, which dates from the second half of the eighteenth century and was built as part of the coastal defence system in the area. This also included the nearby Torre de El Cantal, which I mention below.

Nowadays it hosts exhibitions, and other cultural activities and provides a pleasant place to wander in the centre of busy Rincon.

Fortress at Rincon



Moving onto another urban area - La Cala del Moral, somewhere we've driven through but never stopped. This was a nice easy multi-cache which started at the church, then visited a tranquil plaza, and ended at the spectacular fountain which marks the entrance to La Cala.

Church


Fountain (trip to the top was FAR too high up!!)


The remaining two caches were posted by the same family, and are within easy walking distance of each other on the limestone promontory of El Cantal. This is between Rincon and La Cala, and underneath are the famous Treasure Caves (visited via Rincon).

We visited the Treasure Caves years ago, and we've been through Rincon and La Cala so many times, but I never knew this promontory existed - it's quite well hidden from the road - and the walkway is an absolute gem.

The short promenade was converted from the old railway line a few years ago and is cut deep into the cliff and has three spectacular tunnels. But there is also a cliff top walk - so you can take the cliffs one way and return on the promenade. The railway line was built in the early 20th century and ran from Málaga to Torre del Mar, and was then extended up into the hills to Ventas de Zafarraya. It seems Spain had their own era of Beeching cuts - it was dismantled in the sixties.

This was such a brilliant walk with wonderful views. Finding pots of tat treasure is fun, but what really makes geocaching worthwhile is getting out to places you wouldn't otherwise visit. El Cantal is definitely one of my favourite cache spots. Thanks to the SanBa family for showing us this absolutely beautiful location.

La Torre de El Cantal


Looking down on the walk


Don't know how I made it over this bridge - looked full of holes from underneath


Gone fishin' ?


The beautiful promenade


... and again ...


Oh for a swim!


Pausing before entering one of the three impressive tunnels


See how the tunnel was carved out of the rock?


And back around down to the beach


Oh, this must have been tea !! Or supper, or dinner or whatever you want to call it. Anyway, a perfect avocado.

Carteia

First - congratulations to Spain on your deserved win and your first World Cup. May you have many more successful tournaments.

No more football. From Spain's glory of today to part of its glorious and spectacular past a few thousand years ago at Carteia - one of the most impressive archaeological sites I have seen for some time.

When a new geocache appeared a few miles away just over the border at an archaeological site, we decided to go and explore. Carteia is only open from Wednesday to Sundays, 10-2pm, so Wednesday morning saw us arrive at the car park shortly after 10am.

I wandered through the gate looking for somewhere to pay. There was no-one around so I walked into a building. 'Hola, buenos dias,' I said to the air. There was a reply and a smiling man came out of the back.

'Hay que pagar?' I asked. No, he said. It's free. Oh goodie. But as I was walking out he called me back. It turned out it was a conducted tour and the next one was at 11am so we would have to wait. Oh well. I asked for a leaflet about the site and took it outside to read.

Sitting on the bench, I realised that if it was a conducted tour, the geocache was obviously outside the site, not inside, so we might as well go and look for it while we waited for the tour.

I went off to find the man to tell him we would be back for 11am but he had disappeared. Then he reappeared just as suddenly - telling me to wait - and off he went again. Back he came and told us to follow him. So we did.

Next, he jumped into one of those golf buggy things, and told us to sit on the back. We did that too. Then he set off at a roaring pace and I nearly fell off. Note to anyone ever getting on the back of one of those - hold on for dear life. They are very bumpy. In comparison they make a Land Rover look like a Rolls Royce. I know what a Rolls Royce is like having been given a lift some 40 miles down the M1 in one.

Our transport


Suddenly we stopped. Our guide turned round to us, and told us that we needed to imagine what the area was like nearly 3000 years ago - without the oil refineries, the electricity station, and all the rest of the modern development.

In the 7th century BC, the Phoenicians settled on the nearby Cerro del Prado. Some three centuries later, their descendants established a new settlement at Carteia, on the promontory next to the river Guadarranque with total strategic control across the Straits of Gibraltar.

Carteia's expansion came when Rome defeated Carthage in the Punic Wars, and the Romans took over the settlement, constructing the typical features of a Roman city - the forum, a temple, the baths, the wide streets, shops and houses.

The Roman soldiers married local women, but neither they nor their children were recognised as Roman citizens. Determined to seek a solution to this problem, Carteia sent an envoy to Rome, and by 171 BC, Carteia was granted the status of free colony, the first one outside Italy.

With the fall of the Roman Empire, Carteia was occupied by the Visigoths (6th century AD), the Arabs (8th century AD) until finally, in the 14th century, it was taken by the troops of Alfonso XI of Castille for Spain.

Approach to the Roman and Punic part of the site


Steps to the forum


The site of the Roman temple surrounded by the later Visigoth necropolis


One of the fresh water wells used by the inhabitants of the settlement


The Roman baths


The 16th century Torre Rocadillo


The location of the WWII gun


The tour round the site goes chronologically, starting with the exterior Carthaginian walls and ending in the 20th century with gun batteries from the Second World War pointing towards Gibraltar.

Our personal tour - just the two of us - was around 40/45 minutes, but normally (not including the buggy ride) you should allow around an hour.

If you are interested in archaeology and are anywhere between Gibraltar and Algeciras, it is well worth the trip.

Getting there

By car
If you are driving from Gibraltar, take the road to San Roque and after Campamento, turn off to Puente Mayorga. Follow the road to the end of the village and then over the narrow hump back bridge that crosses what looks like a Dutch canal. Keep following the road through the oil refinery along the coast until you reach the signs for Carteia.





By bus
Take the Yellow Line bus from San Roque. Bus times that fit in with site opening hours are 10am and 12noon. Return journeys from Carteia are at 12.20 and 18.05. Not sure what you would do until 18.05. Sit on the beach?

Oh and we found the cache easily.

Links

Tourist information from the San Roque council

Bus times between San Roque and Carteia

Perfect Spanish? - habla español? (3)

Spain has been claiming much of my time recently and while I'm there I have no internet access so no blog updates.

As a result, the next few posts will be a mix of photos and anecdotes from Spain.

1 - Español perfecto

First up - I lied. I did actually go to the internet cafe - but only to check on emails.

'Hola, buenos dias,' I say, dropping the 's' as is customary in our area.

'Hola, In-ter-net?' says a smiley woman slowly so that I could understand 'Internet'.

'Si,' I say, and then think, but only depending on the price, so added 'Cuanto valé?'

She started telling me, and then pointed to the board. Actually it's years since I used this place and I went through exactly the same routine at the time.

In Spain it's so customary to ask for what you want that you don't look for the signs first, you open your mouth instead. Presumably a hang-back to when most people didn't read anyway. Some still don't.

'OK,' says me, deciding to spend the princely sum of one euro for half an hour.

'Numero siete, s-e-v-e-n.'

'Si, valé, gracias.'

I sit down and wait for her to authorise my computer.

But I can't access gmail, so I call her over and say something on the lines of 'El gmail no funciona' or 'No puedo accesar gmail.'

She sorted that for me and helpfully told me how to key the @, which I knew anyway but said thank you.

Within the half hour, I got up and went to pay.

'Has terminado?' she asked in very clear accurate Spanish (ter-meen-ah-doh)

'Si,' I replied. 'Terminado.' Except the way I said it, it comes out ter-min-ow.

'Oh,' she said, and I'll drop the baby Spanish now, 'you speak perfect Spanish.' Presumably due to the fact that I sounded like a local.

[Note to would-be Spanish speakers - do not imitate my pronunciation, it only works in the right (countryside) areas of Andalucía, and will not get you accepted into the Madrid dinner party set. It is not the Spanish accent taught in language classes].

I thought 'perfect' was a bit over the top, considering all I had said was - how much, thanks, ok, and, I've finished.

Still I thought I had better say something to acknowledge the kind compliment, so I said thanks, and that it was probably because I had lived in Spain for a while.

'Where are you from?' she asked next.

'The next village down the road,' I replied.

'No, no, originally.'

'Oh, Inglaterra.'

Well at this point she nearly fell over genuflecting at my amazing linguistic abilities. Apparently she has an English friend who doesn't speak a word of Spanish, so me managing to string more than one word together was seriously impressive.

I confess to being rather sucky after that and somewhat unpatriotic and said that if you lived in Spain, you should speak Spanish, but lots of English people didn't want to.

In fact, I have met lots of people who live in Spain and allegedlly can't say any more than hello, goodbye, and give me a beer.

In all seriousness though, I think it is a shame that people move to a beautiful country and are not interested enough to learn the language. To me it's part of the excitement, and something to achieve, and provides a richer life. And you can tell when people are being rude about you too.

My Spanish is NOT perfect, whatever she generously said, and has probably deteriorated since I came to Gib, but at least I still try, and my great neighbours are always around to give us over-the-wall refresher lessons.

2 - El partido

I have to mention the football.

When we arrived in Spain about a week ago we were chatting - over the wall - with the above-mentioned neighbours and naturally we got around to the football. They asked if we would be watching Spain v Germany and we said that sadly the TV no longer worked. (TVs in our part of Spain don't really like all the dust, we've gone through two or three now).

As they'd done in previous years, they immediately invited us round on the Wednesday night. But over the next few days, no more was said.

Come Wednesday night, we were sitting in the patio waiting for the chicken man to arrive (another story in itself) when there was a loud bang on the door. Dressed only in a towel, I squawked like a chicken and ran inside.

I could hear some mumbled Spanish of which one word seemed to be patio. Partner was struggling with it too. Suddenly I twigged. Partido - par-tee-doh - but pronounced pat-ee-oh in our village. The match.

Partner jumped up excitedly and decided to go. I decided Spain would have better luck if I lay on the bed and read a book and waited patiently for the good news.

He trotted next door and the relatives chatting on the terrace were sent home (two doors up the street). Partner was ushered inside to the two chairs that were duly set out for both of us.

Once settled in, he was offered a beer (which he refused), and they all sat back to watch the match - which luckily Spain won.

Of course, my dilemma now is whether to watch tonight or not. Do I read another book hoping that this will give Spain that extra bit of luck?

Either way, good luck Spain. Hope you make it.

A wedding in Gib

It's a long, long time since we have been invited to a wedding, at least 20 years I guess, when all my contemporaries were getting married.

A couple of months ago, our neighbours across the landing on our floor announced they were getting married and told us we would be invited to the reception.

They were good to their word, and the invitation duly followed about a month ago.

"It's casual," she said. And added that the bridegroom would be so fed up of wearing a suit all day that he would be in shorts and T-shirt for the evening reception.

So no fancy frock for me, although I did try on a couple of - er - quirky combinations of froth with leggings, and Partner was all set to wear shorts.

But when the evening arrived - it was quite chilly, so we abandoned what we had planned to wear. I went for boots, trousers and a chenille top. Partner went for trousers, and then he decided on a smart shirt and a tie to go with them.

Just as well really. When we turned up, the so-called casual reception was full of very smart Gibraltarians, with men in suits or smart jackets and trousers, and the women in - frothy frocks - and perilous heels that screamed sprained ankle at me. The bride and bridegroom were beautifully dressed - no shorts at all for him, only immaculate black trousers and highly polished shoes. He had relaxed a little and taken off his tie though.

We arrived just after 7pm and it was already nearly full. The bride welcomed everyone at the entrance, and the bridegroom was at the bar ordering drinks for all the guests.

When I say it was chilly, I mean it wasn't roasty toasties. We grabbed a seat outside and relaxed in the evening sunshine, just inside the city walls - the Landport Gate. Looking round, it seemed that most of the guests were family, or Gibraltarian friends of the couple. We felt honoured to be invited into an intimate circle of friends and family.

It was a lovely way to spend an evening. Our thanks to the newly-weds for their generosity at the reception, and we wish you many happy years together.

The bridegroom circulating round his guests


Landport Tunnel


Just inside the gate


Cake



This little monkey took a photo of me, so I got my revenge


Not something you see at British weddings - one of the local beggars wandered in - but was rapidly escorted out by the bride


Journalistic anecdote of the day

While writing this I couldn't help going back to my early days as a cub reporter on a weekly newspaper. On Friday mornings there was a general groan as the Saturday weddings were dished out for everyone to type up in advance. I thought it was quite fun, but then, I even enjoyed writing up flower show results.

All the wedding forms were duly transformed into copy, to await the arrival of the photos on Monday from the poor old photographers who spent Saturday morning traipsing from wedding to wedding. (This also provided a check in the rare event of a wedding not going ahead).

Although it might have been boring as hell for world-weary reporters, the write-up in the paper meant a lot to the couple concerned, so everything was double-checked. You would hand the form to a colleague, and then read your copy out loud while they checked you had got it right, included the right flowers, the right names - absolutely essential, details of the wedding dress, honeymoon destination etc etc.

And what you never did - was to refer to the bridegroom as a groom - because, grooms worked in stables. Twenty five years later - this still comes to mind whenever I hear people say 'bride and groom.' A little image sneaks into my mind of a beautifully dressed bride accompanied by a stable boy, up to his eyeballs in manure.

Spanish interlude .....

Took some time out to go geocaching at a few places in Spain so here are some photos of some of the places we visited.

Sayalonga

We've been up here before but never stopped (apart from to turn round on our way to Competa as we were low on fuel). The pueblo's main claim to fame is a unique round cemetery - the only one in Spain.

The cache was actually hidden outside the village at a Monument to Peace, commemorating all the people who died in the Spanish Civil War. In fact as it was built relatively recently, I don't think it was there the first time we visited Sayalonga.

The cache owner recommended visiting a few spots in the village, so off we went to see the Fountain of El Cid, and the famous round cemetery. En route to the cemetery, I also found the narrowest street in the Axarquia region, which was disgustingly claustrophobic. All in all, a good excursion though, and we were the first to find the cache, so that was a bonus.

Monumento a la paz, by sculptor Placi de Gaona


Fuente del Cid


The narrowest street in the Axarquia


The round cemetery


Caleta

Next up, Caleta de Velez. A fishing port that we often visit so looking forward to an easy find there. As if. I don't know how long we spent scrambling around on the rocks, but it was hellish hard underfoot. And I scuffed my new boots. Eventually, contorted under a rock somewhere, Partner found a geocaching pen and glancing round - found the cache, without a lid. Looked like it had been dropped or misplaced or whatever. Anyway, another success.

Searching on the rocks


Beautiful boats in the port


El Campo de Gibraltar

Moving down the coast to El Higueron. A quick stop off the dual carriageway with a nice walk and some great views of the bay and of Gibraltar. Round to a beautiful beach at El Burgo, a lovely walk along the track and onto beautiful sandy beaches. What an idyllic spot.

And for something totally different - El Tren. An old train, situated presumably on the site of an old railway station but now turned into a children's playground with a playtrain for kids and a real train for adults to drool over. Nice and unusual place for a cache.

The view from El Higueron


Enjoying the beach at El Burgo


Endless sands


El Tren at Los Barrios