monkeying around in gibraltar

As our Spanish adventure continues, yesterday we opted out of a day at the 'Costa del Windsurf' and instead crossed the border into Gibraltar. For all our enthusiasm to experience new cultures, we were sadly excited by English road signs, price tags marked GBP and British high street stores. Let's be honest, what town wouldn't be somewhat improved by the addition of an M&S? 
Gibraltar, situated on a rocky outcrop on the southern tip of Spain, could be any northern English town. Except, here the weather is great and the locals are fluent in English and Spanish but choose to converse in a hybrid of the two. 
To enjoy the full visitor experience we ventured to The Top of the Rock. Of course, we would naturally choose to hike the 467m summit but due to time constraints we reluctantly opted for the cable car instead. Pity.
The terraces at the top afford uninhibited views of the city below as well as across the Straits to Africa, which seems close enough to swim to. Almost. Also resident on the rock are local apes which have become overly familiar with visitors. As we waited to catch the return cable car, Fox decided it was an opportune moment for a snack. Now, is there anyone on earth who doesn't know what food is reputed to be a monkey's favourite snack? In which case, would you brave eating nuts when surrounded by greedy apes? What ensued was a slow motion scenario that involved Fox ensuring his snack was safe before warning me that a monkey was running straight toward me. In a calamitous moment I had Fox shouting my name, an ape helping itself to the contents of my handbag and me shrieking in shock at the cheeky monkey savouring my Prince biscuit! My immediate worry was the £500 fine incurred for feeding the apes and I began to shout, 'I didn't feed it! I didn't feed it! I have witnesses!' It turns out I needn't have worried as everyone else was too busy photographing the ordeal to report me. Once mommy ape had handed my biscuit to baby ape, she went after Fox to retrieve the nuts. Justice is sweet. However, he and his precious snack retreated safely into the awaiting cable car and we all returned to safety. In true British style we found respite in a pub where we were safe from harms way and agreed that we had probably endured enough monkey business for one day.

almost perfect trip to andalucia

Thanks to Lonely Planet magazine's 'Perfect trip to Andalucia' feature I'm currently sitting in our hire car watching the wild waves at Bolonia beach in Tarifa, Spain. They weren't joking when they said it's a good spot for windsurfing. The hundreds of wind turbines on the mountainside are a bit of a giveaway. It turns out Port Elizabeth is comparatively not the windy city.
Detouring away from tourist hotspots means our Spanish is improving. We had the lady at Hertz very confused when enquiring whether it was fine to drive the car into Gibraltar. Finally we pointed at the map and realisation dawned: 'Ah, G[guttural]-eee-bral-taaaar!' Basically, we've learned the important stuff like counting to three, hello/goodbye, please/thank-you, wine/beer.
We've explored the famous Alhambra of Granada and sampled Andalucian cuisine. However, the most memorable part of our trip so far must surely be high in the mountains of Las Alpujarras, in the tiny village of Capiliera. We had spent the night in a rustic B&B that afforded the most stunning views of the surrounding landscape. Yet, the most spectacular view was provided by me on the morning of our departure. Having enjoyed a lovely breakfast overlooking the valley we chatted to the friendly owner about his hotel featuring in the aforementioned magazine. I offered to fetch it so that he could look at the article which featured his establishment, Cortijo Catifalargo. On my return I happened to trip on my floor-length dress....my strapless floor-length dress. That's right....in one surreal moment I full-on, baring-one-naked-breast-for-all-to-see, flashed the guy. My reflexes failed me and I was simply not quick enough to stop my bare bosom from making his day. His reassurance that I should not worry as 'eet ees beooteefool and natooral' was of little consolation. Fox looked as shocked as I felt. The owner was incredibly happy to see a photo of his swimming pool featured above a picture of his friend Jean-Claude. Perhaps he was a little happier than he might otherwise have been had I not just given him a free peep-show! Fox and I laughed at my expense all the way down the mountain and it's safe to say that the Tarifan wind has now surely blown any humiliation far away.
As for that dress, it is at the bottom of my suitcase and there is little chance it will be seen again this holiday...if ever.