April 10, 2025

It had to happen, and today was the day. We arrived at our first bona-fide tourist trap. Our initial clue should have been when I opened the curtains this morning expecting to see the Prudential Rock. Instead I saw someone in their stateroom 75 yards across from us on a German cruise ship twice the size of ours. The weather was also not cooperative with heavy clouds, a steady breeze and about 63F.

Because it’s so tiny, about the only tour option in town is to go to the top of the Rock, either by car or tramway. On top live 300 Barbary Macaques (the only monkey colony on the continent of Europe) which can be aggressive, particularly if dumb tourists taunt or eat around them and we could easily miss that. There wouldn’t be a view anyway because of the heavy cloud cover and the other big attraction, tunnels burrowed through the rock that have been used in the last 300+ years of wars held no appeal to us. So, we decided to set off on foot to explore the teeny “British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar”. It’s only 2.6 square miles and that includes the giant Rock in the middle, so just wandering around seemed an easy option.

Before we ventured out, I did some Google research because I was having trouble grasping why it was British here at the very bottom tip of Spain. Apparently it all started with Neanderthals about 50,000 years ago. Because of Gibraltars strategic location at the entrance to the Mediterranean it has been fought for and occupied by everyone and his brother (look it up if you don’t believe me). It finally ended up in British hands some 300 years ago. After their occupation they fought off multiple foes in 5 or 6 more wars and now, after all that conflict, the Territory seems to be solidly British. Well, kind of anyway. The population of 35,000 are happy enough to be a protectorate and they’ve always voted, after multiple elections to leave things as is. The Brits certainly have no desire to give up this strategic stronghold. Their income these days comes primarily from tourism and online gambling companies based here.

English is the official language taught in school, signs are all in English and the currency is the Gibraltar pound which is directly attached to the British pound in that they have the same value. But other than the round red mail boxes, one red phone booth and a few cheesy “pubs” there was nothing we saw to indicate that it’s a British colony. They drive on the right, everyone converses in Spanish and almost all the products in the grocery stores are from Spain (I looked).

I had read that 90% of the tourists are “day trippers” who leave their cars in large lots at the border and walk in from Spain. In addition to them, plenty of cars, the people from our boat, the throngs from the German ship and about 20 busloads of Spanish teenagers on Easter break, we spent the day maneuvering through this obstacle course of humanity. I guess now we know what they are saying when they talk about European “over tourism”. I’m just grateful we didn’t go to the top of the Rock. The thought of hordes of people in addition to 300 monkeys gives me the heebie jeebies.

The restaurants didn’t hold much appeal and were jammed with tourists. We were hoping to get a nice seafood lunch, but offerings were essentially fish and chips, pizza, burgers or curries. So, after bobbing and weaving through the masses for about 3 hours, we headed back to the ship and had pizza, chicken curry and chips for lunch.

On to the big waves tonight which are in an area that is notorious for high seas. I was wrong when I said it was supposed to happen last night. Captain Frank says he’s going to batten down the hatches this evening and close a bunch of decks in preparation. Yikes! On to Cartagena, Spain tomorrow.

Gibraltar, British Overseas Territory

Cartagena, Spain

Sea Day #10 Atlantic Ocean