Cannon Hotel Gibraltar

... many of us who finished off our bottles over the course of the night. I ended up staying up pretty late talking to a Kiwi, Craig. <br><br>Other comments I have. The tents are quite nice and they look VERY durable which is particularly important. We divided into cook crews and I somehow ended up on two. Weird, the North American group (me plus my Canadians) put me on theirs and Pete and Craig thought I was going to be with them. I decided to stay with ...

Well we're not actually in Gibraltar itself but just across the border anchored in La Linea. The trip here has had it's moments with dodging, not so successfully sometimes, the thunderstorms, as well as running to hide in Mar Menor from gale force winds on the nose. We first passed the entrance about 7 in the morning and thought we would just continue on south with the light winds we had, The thunderstorms of the night before had disappeared and Simon had just put his head down ...

... in 1930 and all the spys gathered here during WW II. We were met by our guide and a private driver: Morocco is all hustle and bustle. Cars share the streets with motorcycles, bikes; pedestrians, and donkeys pulling carts. We were taken to a very exclusive hotel to have lunch: It overlooks the ocean and is very swanky: They told us to order the fish since we are by the sea. We each ...

... to me in Spanish, which I´m beginning to be able to get the hang of. He explained that he wanted to immigrate to Isreal. I asked him why, and he said that he loved Isreal. "Are you Jewish?" I asked. "No, I just love Isreal". He replayed. I looked at his screen and it is a password/login screen for the Isreal Defense Force. He asked me if I would write Isreal for him to see if I could arrange for a visa. I told him no. He then wanted to know if I could help him get ...

... to lift their robes and just pop a squat but I decided to wait for the ferry ride back! Oh, and on the ferry ride returning to Spain we saw a women in VERY traditional Islamic dress. She had her entire body covered, including gloves to cover her hands, except for one slit for her eyes. It was very eerie and hard not to stare. We heard people calling her "ninja" and then our taxi driver made a joke saying "she must be cold", so I guess they aren't too used to seeing that around here either.

... Our room was beatiful and airy (relief after our cell in seville) and had views out over the straight of gibralter. We were blessed with a fantastic little resturant tucked right next door to our hotel serving up delectable fried sardines, soups, flat breads, beans and these really good little potato patties. Not as cheap as China our india, but we were stuffed to the brim for under 5 bucks australian. We were a bit apprrehensive about Moroccos' famed hustlers ...

... or the chance to watch local artisans at work, and more for the apparently endless supply of pot that flows into town from crops grown in the surrounding mountains. I don't smoke pot, but neither am I anti-pot-smokers; still, the constant offers of "good weed" was a little irritating after the fourth day. I felt like I was trapped in the van with Spicoli. Minus the omnipresent dealers (which some may view as a draw, not a deterrent), Chefchaouen was laid ...