Mis Monos

December 5th, 2007

Hello all,

First off, Happy Birthday Daddy.

Second off, ah ha! I’ve stopped being lazy! Two in four days!!

So I’ve officially been to hell and back. That is to say, we went to Gibraltar this weekend and a common theory is that the straight of Gibraltar was the gates of Hades in the Odyssey. We left Granada at eight in the morning and didn’t get there until around one. The bus dropped us off in La Línea. La Línea is the town on the Spanish side of the border. It’s called that because it is where the firing line of the Spanish troops was when the British took over Gibraltar in 1704. It’s supposedly not a good place to hang out so we headed straight for the rock. Let me just say, this is a rock. The thing is gigantic! It’s huge and apparently hollow. There are kilometers of caves and tunnels inside.

In order to get in we had to go through customs. I’ve never done customs without being in an airport. It was the easiest customs I’ve ever seen. We didn’t even have to open our passports, just showed them and walked past. Apparently more than 6000 people walk across the border each day to work in Gibraltar while they live in Spain. Gibraltar is a fiscal paradise. That is to say, there are no taxes. There are something like 40,000 people that live there permanently and 60,000 businesses.

Right after we walked through the border we found ourselves on Winston Churchill Avenue (on November 30^th which was the man’s birthday) and surrounded by double-decker buses and red phone booths. We walked across the street to the front of the airport (and when I say airport I mean tiny building with a runway out back) and got on a mini tour bus.

Our bus driver’s name was Eddie. He was hilarious. When he spoke Spanish he had an insanely heavy Andalusian accent and when he spoke English he had a very heavy British accent. He drove us all around the rock in this tiny little bus. There were many, many times where I just closed my eyes and prayed we’d make it through the tiny openings. Although it may not seem possible, Gibraltar is growing. A few years back a special ship came in from Holland and dug up sand from the Bay of Spain and brought it around to the other side. Gibraltar is a lot like Boston in the sense that the majority of it is now landfill covered in buildings.

The first place we went with Eddie was the shore. We went down the southern tip to look out on the Straight of Gibraltar. Right before the bus parked we passed by a mosque and we could hear the call to prayer from the minaret. Straight across we could se the mountains of northern Africa, to the left was the Mediterranean, and to the right was the Atlantic. In the straight there was a sunken ship. Apparently it had been anchored just off shore when another ship crashed into it and the front half sunk. It happened only ten weeks before we got there so they still hadn’t excavated it.

From the shore we drove up the rock. Apparently the tunnel that you used to drive up caved in a bit ago so Eddie took us more or less STRAIGHT up the side. I am not one to panic easily but my knuckles were definitely white. The first stop was St. Michael’s cave. Not much to see. Just a giant cavern in the middle of a gianter rock where someone found a few Neolithic sculls. ;-D

The first time we noticed the monkeys was when we came out of the caves. The monkeys are crazy. I repeat, los monos son locos. They just hang out on the sides of the roads, in the middle of the roads, on people’s heads, in the trees, in the cars, under the cars, etc. The people of Gibraltar are obsessed with the monkeys. I thought my dogs were spoiled… there is a separate wing just for the monkeys in the hospital of Gibraltar. To be fair, I guess there is a reason. Legend says that when the monkeys leave Gibraltar with cease to be British.

Anyway, like I said, these things are crazy. They have absolutely no inhibitions. They walk right up to you and dig through your pockets. We were told to leave all our wallets and things on the bus because the monkeys would steal our money. I laughed at first but they weren’t kidding. I was walking with a friend eating a pack of peanuts and all of a sudden a monkey jumped on to shoulder. I jumped and dropped the peanut down the front of my shirt. The monkey reached down my shirt and retrieved the peanut and then proceeded to sit on my shoulder while she de-shelled it, leaving all the shells in my hair.

From the cave we began to drive back down the rock. All was going well, two-foot-wide windy roads and all, and then all of a sudden we’re stopped in the middle of the road and Eddie is laying on the horn even though there is nothing in front of us. We all yell, “ED-DIE!” but he doesn’t stop. When we stand up to see what’s going on we realize that it’s not Eddie. In fact, a monkey had come in the driver’s side window and was laying on the horn. We had to stop so Eddie could chase him off.

After the bus tour we walked around the town center. I can’t tell you how strange it is to be walking down the street, hearing English just as much as Spanish. For lunch we went to a good ol’ English pub. Everyone commented to our waitress how nice it was to be ordering in English and she replied that she lives in La Linea so she knows the feeling. Not only was it nice to order in English but it was nice to have familiar food. Hamburgers made with beef! Whod’a thunk? In Spanish hamburgers are only made with pork. I guess it makes sense given the name but I still think hamburgers should come from cows. Anyhoo, I had me a nice caesar salad wrap. Sounds simple but it was so good after not having one in a few months. The only bad thing about the pub was when we had to pay. They accepted both pounds and euros but they listed all the prices in pounds. I was the only one who actually had pounds so we paid in euros but we had to do all the math conversions ourselves.

After our late lunch it was time to leave and head back to the bus, which was waiting in La Linea. Before Eddie had driven us into town but this time we had to walk. We walked across the airport. You could say that the runway is more or less the obvious physical border between Gibraltar and Spain. Walking across the runway at sunset reminded me of Easter Island. Just hear me out for a second before you call me crazy. Only three flights come and go from Gibraltar each day. While that’s many more than the two a week that come and go from Isla de Pascua it’s very similar because there is no way to be there without noticing the flight. I remember being on Easter Island when a flight took off at sunset and everyone on the beach stopped and looked up. In Gibraltar traffic has to stop so no one has any choice but to look up.

After we walked back through customs once more we were back on the bus and heading out to Ronda. Ronda is about two hours north of Gibraltar, in the Spanish province of Malaga. The province of Malaga is next to the province of Granada. Although the bus ride was just under two hours it was a horrible experience. The first half went fine and then we hit the mountains. The god-forsaken mountains. Up until now in my life I’ve prided myself on being a good traveler. I can pretty much sleep anywhere, I don’t panic easily, I can function on little sleep, and I don’t get frustrated easily. What’s gotten to me are these oversized buses on these undersized roads winding every which way through the mountains. I can’t wait to be back to six-lane highways…

We finally get to Ronda, much to the relief of our stomachs. We find the hotel and immediately settle down for a well-deserved three-course dinner. Smarty-pants me forgot my lactaid pills in Granada and had to improvise. I had to eat around the cheese in the lasagna (believe it takes talent). The second course, chicken breast and mashed potatoes, was delicious. The third course, chocolate and vanilla swirled ice cream cake with a whipped cream topping, I had to forgo. Instead I ate a tangerine. After allowing ourselves to digest we headed out on the town.

The first corner we turned we came face to face with a GIANT blow-up Santa Claus. I honestly couldn’t stop laughing for a good couple of minutes. We were a group of seven Americans and while that’s pretty normal in the cities, we stuck out a bit hanging in the middle of the street. We headed into the first bar we saw and I almost lost it laughing again. About a minute after we walk in the song Summer Lovin’ from Grease starts playing. I don’t know how I got talked into it but I ended up doing a karaoke version with my friend Tyler. You know me, I couldn’t sing if my life depended on it, but hey, it was fun so who cares. We hung around there and then went to a club to dance for a bit before heading back to the hotel to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

The next morning we woke up to a wonderful hotel staple: the all you can eat, included-in-your-room, pastry buffet. From there we headed out on a nice three-hour walking tour, perfect for digestion. This town is ridiculous. It’s one of the earliest know settlements on the Iberian Peninsula. The entire town is built around a giant ravine, this set-up is unique to Spain and probably to Europe. There are three bridges that cross the ravine. They are appropriately called the New Bridge, The Old Bridge, and The Oldest Bridge. The first one was built, I believe in the 11^th century, the next in the 13^th century, and the New Bridge in the 18^th century.

Right next to the old city gates is a building. Inside are Arab baths. They’re placed at the entrance to the city because in olden days, before a visitor could enter the city he had to go to the baths to be washed and to prove he carried no disease or weapon then he got to make his grand entrance to the city. The views looking out across the ravine and into the country is amazing. Ronda sits up on a type of mesa so it appears that the entire world stretches out from its feet.

The best example of the history of this city would be it’s church. (I’ve included a picture for your enjoyment.) What is now a Christian church started off as an Iberian pagan temple. After that it became a Roman temple, then a Visigoth basilica, then a Muslim mosque before being converted into the present day church. Alongside the church are the two remaining convents in the city. There are only eighteen nuns left in Ronda. The average age is 75.

After our tour we settled in for a tapas lunch in on of the restaurants in the ravine. We’re settling down to eat and a couple walks up to us and asks if we’re Americans. We answer yes and they smile and introduce themselves, saying that they’ve been traveling through Spain and it’s nice to hear familiar voices. It turns out they’re from Weston and their son went to BB&N. What a small world it is. After some nice homemade meatballs and Spanish fries we began wandering back towards the hotel to collect our bags and head for the bus station to get the bus back to Granada.

Of course on the way it was necessary to stop and get a small box of the donuts the man was making on the street. He actually rolled the dough and then put them in the oil and then but them in a little carton and covered them with your choice of topping. I had caramel topping. They were delicious.

It was a wonderful trip but I was knocked out by the end and I slept the entire bus ride home.

When I got back to Granada I had a bit of a headache but brushed it off. Sunday I was still lagging a little and by Sunday night I was sick. I guess traveling six weekends in a row and going to class all week will do that to a person. Monday Señor Hottie and I slept about twenty hours and when I woke up Tuesday morning I pretty much I felt fine. I’ve got a bit of a residual headache/stuffy nose but I’m good. I’m good but apparently our apartment is feeling a bit under the weather because it’s decided to shut off the running water. Hopefully it’ll be back tomorrow.

Movie suggestion of the week: El Bola. It’s a bit strong but it’s a very good movie.

I can’t believe I’ll be home two weeks from today. On one hand, I’m very excited to come home and see everyone I missed at Thanksgiving. On the other hand, I’m really going to miss my little, albeit freezing, apartment here. Ah well, I’ve still got two more weeks to take advantage of. I’m pretty sure (cross your fingers) that I’m off to Morocco tomorrow so that’ll be fun. It’s a good way to practice French before my final exam on Monday.

Talk to you soon,

Me

Ps. Let me just say spell-check is saving me from some embarrassing moments. Wait till you all hear me try and speak English in a few weeks, it’s actually comical. Here are a few of the mistakes my dear spell-check has corrected.

payed (paid)

panick (panic)

entre (enter)

nesecary (necessary)