Rock

Gibraltar, the gateway to the Mediterranean, a majestic rock crowning the bay of Algeciras, often shrouded in mist as if trying to hide from the curious gaze of Africa.

Gibraltar, the most Spanglish place on earth, a town of Bobbies with thick regional accents and perfect English, tapas and fish and chips, where corned beef becomes ‘carne con bif’.

Gibraltar, the border town, the tax haven, the military base, the foreign territory.

Gibraltar, the bone of contention.

When it could be so different. Imagine a Gibraltar with no frontier, no customs, no high fences. Imagine Gibraltar with no naval base, no military buildings, no streets full of uniformed young squaddies. Imagine the whole bay of Algeciras, with La Línea and San Roque, from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, with its beaches and scenery, studded with hotels, a casino perhaps, a marina.

Gibraltar could be the jewel of the south. The history, the geography, the mixed cultures of Spain, Africa and Northern Europe. The Barbary apes, the amazing cave systems in the rock itself, the weather, the cuisine….

Maybe one day the nostalgic imperialists will all have faded away, and the people of Gibraltar, Los Llanitos, and their understanding neighbours  (they know each other, respect each other, without the need for political intervention), will be able to give back to the area the dignity and beauty it deserves.