I love weird places. Places that do not make a lot of sense. Like San Marino, which stands independent at the heart of Italy. Geopolitical liminal spaces. Border towns. So of course, I loved Gibraltar, which we visited last week.
Gibraltar is an overseas British territory (translation: a chunk of the now-defunct Empire) located on the Iberian Peninsula. For all intents and purposes, though, it does look a lot like Spain, but also a bit like the UK. And it is beautiful.
I love the poetry of the gigantic cloud that was clinging to the top of the Rock. I love that Africa is so close that you can see Morocco on the horizon. I love how completely bonkers you have to be to decide that the only road in and out of the territory passes straight through the airport runway and has to be closed in case of landing/take-off. I love how you can have a bocadillo de jamón serrano y tomate and a good old tepid pint of real ale in the same breath.
I asked a couple of people what they thought of Brexit, and they said that they weren’t worried because they know Gibraltar will be granted a special status. We’ll see. In the meantime, the African and the European continents continue to look at one another over the Strait while a couple of young dolphins hunt tuna in the wake of ferries.