Walking back to the Bristol from Morrisons I decided to go a different way to the way I’d come; I thought I was unlikely to get lost but even if I did I didn’t care, Ive always been something of an easily distracted meanderer (although I did need to get back with the milk before too long). 

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I still couldn’t really get over the scale of the new high rise developments and (looking up at some of the apartments) I wondered if the residents felt they were very lucky to live where they did or whether (to them) it was just a sort of norm and didn’t think about it. Eventually (after reflecting back on how happy the present incumbent in Edinburgh House was with his apartment) I decided the residents must be very happy with their homesteads. 

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The view I had of the Rock (as I began my walk back) was awesome and so I imagined the views for those people living up in the air must be amazing; thinking about it the views from Trafalgar House (when I lived there) were to die for – such is life for the residents of the Rock. Pondering that theme I paused for a few minutes as I looked up at one particularly lavish looking apartment block. Having worked in social care for the past thirty years I’m not so naive to think everyone in the Gibraltar community lives the life of a wealthy resident and have no doubt that some families struggle like anywhere else; indeed there have been times when my family and I have seriously struggled in the past. I suppose I wondered whether it would have been any easier being broke and in debt in paradise than being broke and in debt in a run-down council house in Nottingham. Probably not.

(Wonderful memories of the Piazza)

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Although I wasn’t certain about where I was I had a fair idea (after climbing some steps) that I was heading toward Main Street; and it wasn’t long before that was confirmed. Almost as soon as I crossed a road I ended up in a place I knew very well and had lovely memories of – the Piazza! Standing in the middle of this wonderful outdoor space took me straight back to the days of when my children were little and we’d all have cold drinks in the warm sunshine. Back in the 70s the Piazza was very much more the communal meeting place than Casemates (which seems to have taken over that mantle) and it was here that very often my ‘bambinos’ would be carted off by local women (children are very much adored in Gibraltar) for a walk down Irish Town or up Main Street while I had a ‘respite’ from parenting 🙂 

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Mindful that I needed to press on (and knowing I would probably be back to the Piazza several times during the week just to sit and ponder) I upped and went off up Main Street with a head full of happy times – very amused (as a Geordie-Boy) to catch a glimpse of the Newcastle Building Society out of the corner of my eye. Why Aye Man.

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