Originally published February 9, 2019, on Mid-Life Meet Medici. For more travel posts about Gibraltar, visit: https://midlifemeetmedici.wordpress.com.

As we walked down the portable staircase off the plane and onto the tarmac, the warm wind hit my body and the sun warmed my face, and I felt better immediately.

It is an odd thing to walk out of an airport and have, to your right, the option to walk into Spain, or to your left, the option to walk across a tarmac and enter the rest of Gibraltar. But there we were, that option presented to us. And so I joined a small group of suitcase-carrying travellers and started the walk across the tarmac. 

It was not long before the small group had split off to go their separate ways, and I found myself having to pull out my directions to determine which way to my AirBnb. But I never really looked to closely at the directions, for before I could, someone always approached me and asked if I needed help. What a friendly city!! With their assistance (and sympathy, as I had to lug my suitcase up multiple sets of stairs) I was at the AirBnb at 1:45. Days prior I had emailed the host Darius and told him I would be there at 2, so I parked my things in the narrow lane and sat to wait. 

2pm. 2:05. 2:08…not a soul came down the short and narrow street. Now I was starting to worry. I had not purchased a data plan, how would I contact him? I pulled out my notes, had a phone number, called it. “Your number cannot be connected as dialled”. 

With dread, I turned on the data. There was an email from Darius, at about 1, asking if I was in Gibraltar, and then another later saying he had to take care of an elderly chap and would be done at 4. 4!!! We had a two o’clock meeting arranged. I cursed myself for not having seen if they had free wifi at the airport and contacting him to confirm once I had landed. 

So I responded, “But I was here at 2 – and I am here now!”. Then the dreaded message came – “This account has incurred $20 of data roaming charges…”. It hadn’t been 5 minutes. 

So I shut off the data and waited. Now what? I decided there was probably no choice but to head down – way down – back to Main Street and find a place with wifi so that I could figure something out with Darius. 

I started down and reached a little lookout where I had paused on my way up. For some reason I took out my phone, and there was a free wifi connection! Saved!! But while the site came up, there was no useable signal. 

I started down the stairs with a heavy heart and heavier bag. It was a particularly long set from the landing, and I went down about five when I stopped. I just did not want to do this. Maybe I should try standing in different areas of the landing, to see if the signal was stronger? So back up the five stairs I went. 

There was an older lady sitting there, and she looked up at the commotion. 

“You’re back”. 

“I don’t know what to do”. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I rented a place on AirBNB and the host didn’t show up to meet me.”

There was a pause. I then explained how he was supposed to be there at 2, wasn’t, and how I didn’t have wifi, so I was going to head back to Main Street to try to find some, but didn’t want to take my stuff all the way back down. 

She had some grocery bags with her, and I knew she had sat down at the lookout to have a rest. So she could sympathize.

“I don’t have wifi either. Do you have a phone number for him?”. “Yes”,  I said, “but it would not go through.” 

“Let me try it.”

I found the number for her. She thought for a moment, muttering to herself about which digits were for the international caller, and then she started to punch some into her phone. 

It rang! She handed me the phone, but no answer, and no voice mail. Eventually it simply disconnected. 

“Sometimes they carry the phone in these bags at their side, and they can’t answer right away,” she said, taking it back. “Where are you from?”.

As soon as I told her Canada, her eyes lit up and she asked where. That was how I learned she had a brother that lived in New Brunswick. She had gone to Nova Scotia when he lived there, she said, but not yet to his home in New Brunswick. She then talked a bit about her visit and her brother.

There was a pause. “Well I should let you get back to your day,” I said. “Thank you for trying for me.”

“It was no problem at all, let’s just try him again.” Before I knew it she was dialling. And this time a male voice answered.

As she handed me the phone, Darius apologized and said he was now at the flat. I said I would be back in less than 5 minutes, and ended the call. 

I looked at her. “Thank you so much,” I said. 

“I thought if we waited a minute he would answer. Those guys running the AirBNBs here are usually pretty good”, she replied, and then I realized the small talk about her visit to Canada and her brother had simply been to kill a few moments before she tried him again.

“That was very kind of you,” I said, and then I realized I nearly had tears in my eyes (there were so many stairs!!). “Thank you again, thank you so much, I just have to give you a hug.” 

She smiled at the hug, and then looked very seriously at me. “Just make sure you pay it forward, pay it forward,” she said, and I told her I would. 

By the time I grabbed my things and then started to walk upwards there was a dark man looking a little frantic on his way down, and he waved at me. I waved back, and she smiled. “Enjoy your stay”, she said, as I started trudging up the hill.

Darius met me about a third of the way down, apologizing profusely and taking my bag. I let him, thinking I had already dragged it up once, but when we turned the corner onto the small lane as we talked about our miscommunications, I immediately felt guilty, because there sat a man in a wheelchair, wearing a very fine hat and covered with a crocheted afghan. He didn’t look at all pleased. 

“Yes”, Darius was saying. “I heard the phone ring but couldn’t answer it because I was pushing him.” Even though I didn’t know exactly where they had been, I knew the length and the gradient of the hill we had just climbed. Had the small lane had any incline at all, I would have grabbed my bag back from him. 

Darius let me into the flat, and gave me a very quick run-through, all the while as I kept saying, “go, go, that is fine”. He eventually did, but only after I agreed to meet up with him later for a drink – he was buying, as an apology, he said – and so a time was set. 

As I spent the next while settling myself and having a rest, I couldn’t help but think over and over how nice these people are in Gibraltar.

Note that the runway is not actually curved – that is just my poor panoramic picture-taking quality from roughly halfway up the rock!

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