Monkey Madness

Nick and I vowed to climb the rock, so after a great morning “provisioning” (buying sickening amounts of chocolate, olives and muslei) in Spain which is just a quick dinghy ride around the border we asked Lance the kiwi fella off the big lime green racing cat if he would like to join us.

The three of us set off through the bustling paved pedestrian streets, full of duty free shops and shoppers then turned towards the cable car and through the botanic gardens. Lance had done the walk twice before so he knew the best route. Half way up at the admission gates we paid our 50p each and continued upward, stepping aside for the tourist vans that groaned past. The map of Gib that Nick and I had showed the summit (426m) at O’Haras Battery but this was on military land with no public access. The whole rock is fairly run down so it wasn’t an issue to climb through the gaping hole in the fence and to continue up. A modelling shoot was taking place at the fist gun emplacement we came too. We explored the huge concrete placemates and bunker type structures then scrambled to the summit over a concrete water-catchment, to where a huge canon was still in pretty good condition. Lance, being an engineer, dissected the mechanisms in detail with Nick while I admired the spectacular view across the straights to Africa where in times gone by the mountains were believed to hold up the heavens.

At the second big cannon perched on top of the rock we found a set of stairs leading below the battery. Nick gave me a torch and asked me what was down there. Once Id determined it was clear of Jerries and hollered something about the really cool bomb racks and gantries they piled down too and we scouted about the old war time rooms surveying the abandoned machinery. Back in the glare of sunlight talk of an ice-cream at the restaurant a bit further along quickened our pace. Lance, having visited before, was expecting the monkeys to assault him for his ice-cream and was prepared for battle. For Nick and I it came as a shock initially, but soon we saw the humour in it; Lance ducked as the monkeys leapt onto his head then in an instant it was hanging off his arm snatching at the ice-cream. Lance swapped the ice-cream to his other hand and spun around to give the monkey some g force. The hairy foul thing clung on as he flicked is arm to get it off. The fight went on for long enough to have Nick and I completely in awe. Lance won and if the shop hadn’t by then closed he would have repeated the performance for the video camera he’d brought along. We were very impressed. The path we chose down took in the Moorish castle and the backstreets of Gib, where the kids kicked soccer balls at each other in a concrete pen not much larger than a squash court, no grass, livestock, tadpoles, nothing.