The Scary Drive Of Death. . .And Apple To The Rescue (Not!)

After Ronda, it was time to drive down to Gibraltar.  Originally my plan was to spend one night in Ronda and one in Gibraltar, but realized we could spend most of the day in Ronda and still make it to Gibraltar well before sundown.

We had heard the legends of the road out of Ronda to the coast.  I figured that was exaggeration.  It was not.  The roads twisted and turned for a long time, first going up, and then going down, almost all the way to the Mediterranean Sea.  Miles away we could see the Med, but I could not enjoy the view.  With trucks rumbling up, motorcycles going at dangerous rates of speed, it was as exhausting a short drive as I have ever taken.  Finally we hit the coastal road, which runs a few miles above the Sea.

There was still a way to go to get to Gibraltar, but at least the road was not crazed.  For miles away we could see the famed rock rising, although we would lose it at points as hills got in the way.  As we pulled off the highway and headed to Gibraltar, we were stunned by just how blue and inviting the water looked (we knew it was too darn cold).  

Trying to get into Gibraltar was a mess, thanks to Apple maps.  (Pro Tip: Going to Europe? Use Google maps – and no, Waze does not work in Europe, so don’t assume you are smarter than me.)  It had us bypassing the signed way to Gibraltar (I figured it might be another way in).  I follow Apple right to the entrance of a parking lot – so I then pulled over the middle curb (what more damage could be done?  None, as it turns out – pretty low barrier).  Realizing that wouldn’t take me into town, we turned around.  Our next go took us into the parking lot, which cost thirty six pence to get out of.  I felt like damn Chevy Chase in European Vacation – you know, the scene where he keeps going around a Paris traffic circle.  

Finally I decided to listen to Carol and the sign. . .and that took us around the parking lot and into Gibraltar.  Because we were going from Spain (Europe) to Gibraltar (still Europe, at least until Brexit), we finally made it in.

Next, we fought our way to the hotel, as it seemed like half the people were leaving Gibraltar, whilst the others were making their way.  Found the hotel, carried our heavy bags up one flight of stairs to check in, and then had to carry them up another flight to get to the elevator.  So far I was pretty underwhelmed by this British hotel.

It brightened when we had a mini-suite with two balconies.  Both balconies had tremendous views across the water; we could even see Morocco nine plus miles across the Strait.  Carol  went out on the balcony to check out the view, and says, “there’s a monkey.”  She came into to get her phone, I followed her out to see it.  In that short time, the monkey had shown promising closing speed and was just a couple of feet away ON OUR BALCONY!  

Given the number of warning signs about the monkeys being aggressive and willing to bite, what came next should not have surprised me.  Courageously, Carol shoved me out of the way and dashed back into the room, shutting the door with lightning speed.  Moments later, when we peered out, the monkey was gone.  We did not trust the balcony the rest of the night, and we made the easy decision to sleep with the balcony doors closed.

I had some conference calls, and then was too exhausted to go out, so we had dinner at the hotel.  It was a quiet evening, but needed after that drive!