Tragedy on an english rock.
Gibraltar Travel Blog› entry 15 of 37 › view all entries
We took the bus from Algeciras to Gibraltar early in the morning. It was a beautiful day so we packed our bathers in case we had an opportunity to swim.
A couple of seats ahead of me on the bus a young mother traveled with her small son. They chatted to each other in Spanish and I laughed and laughed when I heard the boy throw a little tantrum over something his mother wouldn't let him do. It wasn't that I had learned Spanish in the days that I'd been here but I did understand him when he cried, "Por Favor; Por Favor; Por Favor!" I guess that sort of behaviour is global but it's much easier in English when it's just, "Please; Please; Please!"
Crossing into the English territory of Gibraltar is by way of driving across a runway so you have to wait if a plane needs to land.
When we got off the bus the first thing I noticed was all the fortifications in the hillside. The signs warning us of prohibited areas were in English as well as Spanish but we had no intention of going into those areas anyway. We made our way to the cable car that would take us to the top of the rock.
The ride up was pretty cool and the view from the path along the top well worth the fee. That is one VERY BIG rock when you're standing up on the narrow top edge. It's inhabited by apes that are well used to tourists. Naturally you can feed them but we just enjoyed watching them as they scampered about the place, climbed the sad looking trees and sat quietly on the wall alongside the pathway.
On the South Eastern side of the rock lays the expanse of the Mediterranean Sea. On the other a very busy harbour is visible. From our vantage point it looked like a little model. Three dry docks were the main focal point but until I saw a large truck moving along a road beside them I had no appreciation of just how massive they were. I was impressed!
After we'd traversed the length of the rock we made our way down into the caves below. Archeologists have discovered evidence that early man had lived in these caves and a display showed how life might have been way back then. I was pleased that I hadn't been around then and felt for them all the more when I realised that they not only had to live in these harsh conditions but even way back at the dawn of time the men had to face male pattern balding.
After leaving the caves we went down to the town centre for lunch at a street side cafe. We sat on the pavement for about an hour enjoying our meal. When we decided to make a move I noticed that my day-pack had been taken from where I'd left it beside my chair. The footpath had been busy as people came and went beside our table but none of us had noticed the snatch as we sat there. My pasport and money was all strapped about my waist so the wasn't an issue but what struck me the most was that my 3 books were in the bag with my bathers and my towel.
I ran around in a bit of a frenzy looking for my gear. I asked inside if anyone had handed it in, I even wondered if I might have left it on the cable car or up on top of the rock. I shot up there but after trotting from one end to the other there was no sign. I returned to the cafe and we went in search of the Police station to make a report. I didn't care at all about my bag but hoped that my journal, address book and my poetry would be found discarded by some disappointed thief hoping for some cash.
After making my report to the police we returned to Algeciras where I moped about, a LOT! I was bummed about the loss of my poetry more than anything but the address book also meant I was going to struggle to post any news of my travels to friends at home or elsewhere.
It was this sense of loss that made the next day's separation from Kate hard going but I doubt she thought I was much fun to travel with now anyway. Seven weeks of scribblings lost! Oh Woe!!!!!
In fact I never heard anything more of my books. Nor have I ever received any royalty payments if in fact any of my works were published. I can only assume that the culprit passed my work off as his own and has retired compfortably on the income they are generating, an income that should rightly be mine. The fact I have never seen anything in print is of no consequence. I'm sure once I return to the region I will find a small collection on every coffee table. Now there is a hard lesson on security of belongings!