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TripAdvisor Reviews Queen's Hotel Gibraltar
Travel Blogs from Gibraltar
I think they took one look at all these ruck sacks coming through, they didn’t bother searching any (can you imagine emptying one out and trying to get it all to fit back in, not going to happen is it ?
We drove for about 30 minutes to our campsite and then we just sorted out paper work for the next few hours, well half of us did, the other half went off to be shown how to put up tents and ...
... walkers or cars on the extremely narrow roads hanging off the side of the cliff.
At the farthest point we visited St Micheal's cave - a cave that would have been more impressive if we hadn't been to the Nerja caves.
It was lit up with multi changing lights and a modern soundtrack playing, which gave it a slightly tacky feel. Still interesting to see though.
We then walked 10mins up to admire the impressive view. ...
... limestone rock. I bought a big bottle of water and started heading up through the maze of narrow streets. I had to stay close to the house walls to allow the cars to go by with out getting clipped by their side mirrors. Once I broke free from the urban side of the rock, I took the narrow paved road heading up, watching out for the tour busses. After about 30 minutes, I came to a park gate where I was greeted by a disembodied Scottish accent. I walked over to the little shack where ...
... I did my first week and what I’m doing this week. And I’m happy. I’m waiting.
"Still waiting, after a whole year?" It strikes me as a perfectly legitimate occupation, and not nearly as passive as I’d thought it was. I’m thinking of all the folktales, even my own stories I’ve been writing this year, where the main task for the characters is to wait or to wander. For all but a couple of days, or ...
... since I was a teenager. Before I started the Camino, I stopped wearing it. At first, this was because of the swelling in my hand from the sea urchin spines I stabbed myself with in Barcelona, but then I kept it off as I walked. An important part of the Camino is the growing necessity of scrubbing everything bare, of doing without, of leaving behind. Turns out this meant even my ring.
I could no longer ...