Much to our relief all went well on Sam's flight to Australia and he's safely in the hands of Auntie Lynn. She's giving him a nudge if he looks like nodding off to sleep prematurely so that he can adjust to the jetlag. Meanwhile, the psycho mother can now relax here in Spain. We realised that we hadn't yet done the mandatory tour of the Rock so we headed to Gibo, scoffed an English Breakfast and some NZ lamb chops, then we jumped a taxi for the tour. First stop was the Pillars of Hercules. The Ancient Greeks believed that Gibraltar marked the end of the world and beyond it was the edge marked by an endless waterfall that ringed the world. They believed that Gibraltar was formed by Hercules, son of Zeus, who either pushed Africa and Europe apart or smashed his way through it. Next stop was St Micheal's caves so vast that it is now used for musicals and concerts. What a wonderful setting amonst the stalagmites and stalagtites. We then stood on top of the rock looking to our left at the Atlantic and our right to the Mediterranean while we fed the locals - the Barbary Apes - the last remaining wild primates in Europe. Very cute and very naughty. And the final leg of the tour was to the Great Seige tunnels, hand hewn by the British in the late 1770's. Apparently they got really enthusiastic and dug more than 70 km of tunnels throughout the Rock of Gibraltar. The Spanish, and anyone else, really didn't have a chance.