Over the months leading up to our holiday in Gibraltar Carol naturally did spend time checking out on the internet all about the Rock – and in particular the Bristol Hotel. There’s a school of thought (which is probably true) that men are hopeless at things like booking hotels because they’d sleep in a doss house if necessary where women are a little more discerning. As it turned out when Carol had closely scrutinised the Bristol Hotel (which I had booked) I sensed the odd note of approval coming through. But that wasn’t to say she was going to like the changes that had occurred on the Rock; it wouldn’t be until our journey home that I found that out. 
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Also in the months running up to May I noticed lots of phone calls happening between Carol and Sheila (as they discussed their ever-nearing holiday) and sensed a certain amount of excitement building up; we’d all been on many a foreign together, some of which didn’t score anyway near 10/10, but Sheila was sounding very positive and it was starting to rub off a bit on Carol. I caught occasional conversations going on which were starting to sound the business: Carol would say “Yes, and because the hotel is in the middle of town Joe will be able to go walkabout if he wants on days when we just want to sit around the pool”to which Sheila nod approvingly. What was also starting to sound positive was Carol becoming curious and openly asking me things like ‘I wonder if Princess Silks is still there?’.

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In my world I didn’t need any inspiration at all (as you’ve no doubt gathered) but that has never stopped me keeping up to date with Gibraltar news and events on a daily basis which is how I found out that the second annual Mediterranean Steps Challenge event was happening on the 14 May (the day after our arrival). 

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The MedSteps Challenge is a charity event raising money for Cancer Relief in Gibraltar and when I told Carol about it her reaction was swift: ‘Oh you must do that, it’s got your name all over it’. From that point on I had the poster above my office desk to remind me daily not only that I was finally going back to Gibraltar but also that the very day after I arrived I would be at the top of the Rock with the warmth of the sun on me as I looked down on familiar places. 

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The only thing better than looking forward to that was to actually do it. Even just recalling it all in these memoirs is taking me back to the excitement I began to feel in anticipating returning to the Rock. If readers feel any of that excitement as they read I’m happy to share it. Finally I’d arrived at a point when I wasn’t counting down the years anymore, I wasn’t counting the months anymore; in fact I wasn’t even counting down the weeks anymore. I was counting down days. 

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