Chatting to the Gate Guard on the Rooke Site was really nice; he was a man who knew about Naval history in Gibraltar and so he certainly spoke my kind of language. Aside from that though he also cared; he cared about Pilgrim Sailors such as myself who (for reasons best known only to us) made that trip back to Rock years after they had left (in my own case ‘forty years’ after I had left). For a man who must have met dozens of us I found the fact that he appeared to care for each of us individually (and made time for us) very touching. 
*

Just before leaving the gate the guard shook my hand (after he had taken my Selfie) and said “You’ll be going past your old house for a look yes?” pointing across the road at Edinburgh House. For a minute I was speechless; for some strange reason I hadn’t realised I was so close to the married quarters because I’d been so wrapped up in seeing Rooke again it hadn’t even occurred to me. “Oh. Yes my friend” I replied (during a man hug), “Of course”.

*

*

After walking through the archway to the married quarters (the one I had walked through thousands of times before in another life) I found myself standing in the quadrangle courtyard staring straight at our old home, 21 Edinburgh House. What was really nice about it was that all of the buildings were looking well presented, recently painted and very homely. 

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(2016)

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(1976. My daughter 40 years previously)

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A few slight differences abounded (which to me were very much improvements) such as new blue and white sun shades fitted to the balconies and lockable outside doors to the lobbies of each building (presumably for added security for the residents. I also noticed that each of the buildings had been inaugurated with its own individual name (I think after famous Gibraltarian sons and daughters of note?). In the case of my building the name ‘Manuel Olivero House’ had been placed above the outer door.

*

*

As I stood looking up at my old apartment (wondering whether to knock on the door to say hello) a voice said “Hallo there”. In one of the lower apartments an elderly gentleman and his wife were sitting out on their balcony enjoying the shade from the afternoon sun. I immediately replied to the man and after introducing myself to him (and his wife) I spent the next hour having a wonderful conversation with him about all things Gibraltar; including how “Gibraltar will always be British not Spanish and how he loved his apartment”. 

Eventually (and reluctantly) I decided I’d better be moving on with my quest (to find the elusive Morrisons) and said to my new friend that it had been wonderful for me to meet him and a privilege spending time with him. As he shook my hand and bade me farewell he said “You will talk about me in your book no?”. “Oh yes Sir” I smiled.

*

*

Walking back across the quadrangle toward the Main archway to Queensway I spun round for a last look (a bit like Julie Andrews on the hills in the Sound of Music); looking up I noticed a couple more residents waving at me! Slightly flushed I waved back then slipped through the archway. As I looked at the beautiful Rock I wondered where the NAAFI had gone, and the Fleet Pav – I’m sure they were there last time I looked. 

But then it was a while ago since I’d looked through that archway.
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