One of the distinct British qualities that are noted for that people is a certain sense of bulldog tenacity and bloody-mindedness by which the sheer dogged determination and refusal to give up triumphs over difficulties. Such was the case when it comes to my day trip to Gibraltar with my mother. Indeed, while I had it in mind to reflect on different aspects of the trip, as Gibraltar is a lovely place with a particularly distinct flavor and the feel of besieged but triumphant fortress–and not accidentally–the sheer tenacity that was necessary for us to reach and enjoy and return from the place managed to match the tenacity that the British settler colonists of the area have faced in persisting in such a small area despite the longtime hostility of Spaniards who want the area back.

This tenacity started at the beginning of the day, in an unusual way that unfortunately set the tone for the rest of the day. I had in my hand a reservation for Holiday Autos, along with instructions to find a shuttle bus for them, and my mother and I went to Malaga airport to look for it. This promptly became a far from simple and straightforward matter, as we searched our way through the parking lots near the airport and got quite lost and turned around without having seen any signs or found any people who had an idea of where the place was or who they were. We went up and down and all around the lot, wondering if it was worth making the trip to begin with, deciding that it was worthwhile to continue despite the difficulties we found. We asked multitudes of people about where the shuttle could be found, even a taxi driver who thought we were looking for a ride, with the information provided by the rental car agency being less than helpful. Two things were necessary to accomplish before we were able to get to where we needed to be. For one, we went to the arrivals section and spoke with information there, who pointed us to the correct lot and that the one line that said that the car would be provided by Uiber rather than by Holiday itself, which at least gave us the correct name to look up. Armed with this knowledge, we got to the shuttle, and though they did not have my name on their records–because I had mistakenly made the request for the previous day for a one-day rental–we were able to sort out that business in the office after the first driver refused to let us in the van, and get the desired car so that we could drive off the 70 miles or so to Gibraltar. And so onward we went, a bit later than we had expected but in good spirits that we were able to set out at last, an hour and a half later than expected.

As it happens, there are a lot sights to see on the peninsula of Gibraltar. There is a good deal of construction going on here in order to fit more people along the shores of the peninsula as residents, which suggests that times are good enough to draw people to the area. There is not a lot of space for such mundane matters as street parking, so most of the parking one can find are in small parking garages that charge a hefty price–in Gibraltar pounds no less–for the experience. But there are many things to see, including an immense array of fortifications that line much of the area, and an airport/military base at the very northern tip of the peninsula that demonstrate Britian’s persistence in holding on to the area despite Spanish disapproval. Once you get to the far south of the peninsula, you find in Europa Point a gorgeous lighthouse, a surprisingly lovely mosque, and a bit more space for people to spread out and enjoy the look towards the ships passing through the straits between Gibraltar and Africa beyond. Considerable persistence in circling the area was necessary in order to find the precise place where shopping could be found, where I relaxed and tried to rest in the car while my mother went to shop for a suitable collectable elephant, which she found but which took a bit of time for her to return to the car, and then still more time to convert dollars into Euros to get change in Gibraltar pounds, which all seems a bit of a waste to me.

Considerable tenacity was required to make the return trip back as well. Despite the fact that I had basically not slept at all the night before and was running on fumes, personally speaking, I had about 70 miles or so to make without driving on a toll road in the midst of rush-hour traffic on the Costa Del Sol approaching Malaga, and this did not make for an enjoyable driving experience. That said, what has to be done must be done, so I gutted out the trip despite my exhaustion and made it back with the car and all inhabitants unharmed, the gas tank full, and then on to the airport in Malaga to rest some while waiting for an extremely late plane before getting to our hotel outside of Barcelona for another night of abbreviated sleep before another ambitious trip, but that is a tale for another time. It was several answered prayers that led to the enjoyment of the trip, with all of the difficulties faced along the way.