After arriving in Algeciras, I was prepared for the onslaught of touts the guidebooks warned me about.
Fortunately, since I arrived so late, the port was empty and I could just walk over to the nearest hotel whose name I recognized from the guides. I checked in and fell asleep.

I had breakfast in the morning with a view of the Rock of Gibraltar. The Rock was known in ancient times as the Pillar of Hercules; Roman sources say that on his way to complete one of his twelve labors, he decided to smash the mountain of Atlas, thus connecting the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. The rock of Gibraltar was all that was left of the mountain on the north side.

I checked out of the hotel and walked down to the bus terminal to catch a bus to La Linea, the Spanish city at the border of Gibraltar.
While walking I saw a big clock at an intersection, and it was an hour off. I thought to myself “come on guys, you can’t even adjust your clocks for summer time?” Then when I saw another big clock showing the same time, I realized I was probably wrong… It turned out that going straight north from Morocco to Spain, I changed time-zones. Oops. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t have any bookings to meet…

The bus took about 40 minutes and cost only 2 Euro. I got to the border and walked across. They didn’t even check my passport, merely holding it up to show that, yes, I do own something that looks like a passport, was enough. I wonder if my Bangladeshi passport cover would have been enough?
The border station with the Rock in the background:

I was looking for the youth hostel of Gibraltar, but the roads were pretty poorly marked. I took some time walking around the main city streets, and eventually found the hostel. Unfortunately it was closed until 4pm. I didn’t want to carry my stuff around, so I looked for another hotel. I ended up finding one not far from the main square, so I checked in, left my stuff, and walked around a bit more. I ended up buying a new pair of shorts, since the pair I brought with me had completely fallen apart in Morocco. (I mean, i’m not picky, but they were really unwearable in polite society.)
The streets of Gibraltar:

After that, I walked up the rock to see the various sights. The Rock has been used as a fortress since ancient times, through the wars between the British and the Moors, and even in World War II.

First I headed up to the old Moorish Castle:

Barbary macaques (which are the same species as the Barbary Apes from the Cascades d’Ouzoud):

View of the airport from the seige tunnels, dug in the late 1700s:

I continued my hike up the Rock, to St. Michael’s cave. The caves are some 700 meters deep, and during the ancient period, this was thought to be the entrance to Hades.

I climbed to the top of the Rock, about 470 meters above sea level, and found some old World War II lookout points.

I jumped up on top of the lookout point. I didn’t really realize just how high up I was, but this is what a 1200 foot vertical dropoff looks like…

View of the Med:

The next morning I headed to the airport for my flight to London.
This had to be the coolest airport I traveled through on my entire trip. The runway cuts right across the only road into town!