Although Gibraltar is just a short walk from Spain, it seemed a world away. After four months of traveling through Portugal and Spain, it actually felt peculiar to arrive in a town that is thoroughly English. The internet caf� was airing an episode of "Friends" on the TV, and our non-alcoholic beer was served warm, with ice. Apparently the British prefer real beer, so we decided to conform.

Nancy's flight landed in Seville at 2:30 in the afternoon, but from there she still faced a journey involving two bus rides, a walk across the border, and a taxi to the marina. By 8:30 p.m. I was getting anxious and decided to walk along the dock to search for her. Within a minute I spotted her, dragging an over-size duffel bag and staring around looking bemused and wide-eyed. I went dashing up the dock shouting her name and we had a noisy reunion that lasted until we realized we were standing in the middle of a dock-side restaurant and providing a great source of amusement for the clientele. Nancy's eyes got even wider when she saw our method of getting on and off the boat but we managed to hoist the duffle bag over the anchor without incident. We relaxed in the cockpit for a while trying out Rick's new sangria recipe, then went back up the dock for an Indian meal. Then we stayed up until 1 a.m., talking non-stop.

The next morning Nancy and I slept late, while Rick went trudging across town in the heat to get a "practique", the legal document that proves Aisling was out of the EU for VAT purposes. He was dripping in sweat but all smiles when he returned with the practique in hand. Eventually, we wandered over to Main Street to explore.

It seems that one duty-free port is much like another and if it hadn't been for the Bobbies, Elizabeth R mailboxes and British pubs on the corners, we might have thought we were in Philipsburg. After investigating a few camera shops and making a raid on Marks and Spencer's food section, we found a tiny tapas restaurant on a side street and tried some sardines in garlic oil, delicious little fish cakes and a little fish stew with herbs and saffron. Late in the afternoon we heard a military band strike up, and rushed down to the square just in time to see the "Ceremony of the Keys", commemorating the Great Siege of Gibraltar. Various onlookers informed us that this ceremony takes place every two months/twice a year/once a year- we're still not sure. In any case it was very impressive, very military and very British. There were private seats for all the dignitaries and we noticed, at the end that the Governor was driven off with much ceremony, in a chauffered Jaguar with 4 police escorts wearing suits and ties, on motorcycles. The next dignitary was escorted with 2 police motorcyclists in a smaller Rover and the Archbishop left next in a Hyundai, alone. ?

The next day, we set off for a tour of "The Rock". Our fellow passengers in the eight-seat minibus were all from the cruise ship "Princess"-an Israeli family currently living in South Africa (who were even more appalled by the Gibraltar prices than we were) and an older woman from Moscow who chatted to us cheerfully throughout the tour in spite of the fact that we could only understand about half of what she was saying. (This provided considerable insight into what the Spanish are experiencing when we try to ask them directions.) Our cab driver and "tour guide" threw out tidbits of information on Gibraltar's history along the way. (Did you know that the town of "La Linea" is named because this was "the line" the cannon balls could reach during the battles between the Spanish and British for control of Gibraltar?) We toured the St. Michael's caves, the Great Siege tunnels and the Moorish castle- and of course visited the macaques. Nancy posed with an ape on her shoulder; Rick and I declined. But some guys just won't take no for an answer and one decided to jump onto Rick's back anyway- yikes! Later, we took a tour of a section of the 70km of tunnels that were used by the Allies during World War II. Our tour guide "Smudge" (Smith) was full of fascinating information. Five thousand men and three hundred women lived and worked in these tunnels. The majority of the men were underground six days a week- on the seventh day they had a day off when they could go out onto the base, get some sunshine, play football and drink a few beers. Not much socializing with civilians though- there were few remaining on the Rock during that period, because most had been evacuated-probably to places far less safe than Gibraltar, which was not attacked during WWII.

Nancy was itching to get to Spain, and we were itching to get into the Med, so we decided to get going. First, we filled our tanks with fuel- diesel is only 57 pence ($1.14) per liter in Gibraltar compared to 1.01 Euros (about $1.50) in Spain. Then it was around the corner and into the Med- an exciting moment in our journey! The view of the Rock is much more spectacular from the Med side- we took photo after photo- Nancy with the Rock in the background, Rick and Bonnie with the Rock in the background, Rick and Nancy with the Rock in the background...

We had hoped to go to Estapona, but the marina didn't have room for us and we couldn't anchor because we needed to clear back into Spain. Our only choice was Sotogrande-an ultra-expensive marina in a swish resort that certainly did not satisfy Nancy's longing to get to Spain. Lots of restaurants on shore- but not a Spanish one in sight. We had dinner in an Italian restaurant- very good actually- and our Hungarian waiter was very charming. We would classify the Sotogrande stop as "unremarkable".

The next morning we were shocked to hear that our berth cost 70 Euros a night, so we cancelled our plans for a swim and decided to move on. We were able to anchor just off the beach in Estapona, with a view of Gibraltar off our port side and a view of the mountains on the bow. This is an exposed anchorage from the south and east but there is good holding in 15' in sand just off the beach, very near the center of town. The weather was calm and hot for the two days we were there. We put out a stern anchor to align ourselves with the incoming swell, which made the boat very comfortable. Estapona has been highly developed in the unfortunate Costa del Sol style, but the town has retained much of its original character, and there are very few tourists in September. The long sand beach was almost deserted, and the water was 23 degrees, so we finally had our swim in the Med.

Our next stop was Caleta Velez. The weather was unsettled, with a frontal passage expected that night, so we were relieved to get the last berth at the marina. It cost 23.40 Euros for the 19m berth. Unfortunately we were not the only occupants- several dozen seagulls were already in residence and the dock was a mess, coated white with guano. This is a working fishing harbour with lots of boats coming and going. It is quite a walk into town so we decided to eat on the boat and get to bed early in order to leave at 7:00am for Almerimar. We were still a bit apprehensive about Almerimar retaining a winter berth for us as there are no prior reservations permitted. It's first come first served. This after many emails to them explaining our concerns and need of a confirmation. Their last email said don't worry they will have a berth for us- this is the Spanish way, I guess.

The passage was 60 miles with no wind for the first few hours and a heavy swell that had been generated by the frontal passage the night before. The sea was littered with debris and was almost like an obstacle course in parts. This was the result of heavy rains in the mountains that had caused severe flooding in much of Andaluc�a. We arrived in Almerimar in Force 5-6 winds. This is a very shallow entrance with much silting and the west winds created a strong current at the mouth and inside the marina. Good news though-they did have a place for us for the winter and also a berth in the water for 2 weeks for 9.40 euros a night, as we explore Almerimar, Almeria and Granada with Nancy and await the arrival of Doug and Liz.