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Within seconds of stepping off a bus (full of chattering people heading into town) I found myself in the magical silent world that is Alameda Botanical Gardens, such is the wonder of Gibraltar that you can do that. 

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In addition to the dozens of mini communities that make up her diverse population of 32000 human beings this beautiful little Nation also boasts dozens of mini Nirvanas including Commonwealth Park, the Upper Rock Wildlife Park, the Mediterranean Steps (and many more) all of which readers will know by now are among my favourite places to spend time. But of the fabulous outdoor spaces in Gibraltar there’s no question of my all time favourite place (and the one I take myself off to more often than not) – Alameda Botanical Gardens. 

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The sound of silence coupled with the sounds of nature in this gorgeous utopia are probably the first things that become apparent as you enter; there are rarely a lot of people about but those that are there tend to respect the peace and space of others leaving the audio space free for the bees to buzz and the water to trickle.

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The design and beauty of the Alameda is without question staggering and these gorgeous 15 acres only seem to have improved since being commissioned in 1816 even after a lull during the 1970s; a restoration in 1990s which included the adding of a zoo brought along new life and charm and a recent new indoor development continued the very well thought out progress of this wonderful resource.

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The basic concept behind the idea of creating the gardens was initially a recreational space for off duty servicemen and their families and a shady place of leisure and rest for local people away from the hot sun. Naturally times have changed over the past 100 years and it could be argued that the original aims may be less relevant today though still remain excellent motives.
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I imagine everyone has a very favourite place in this world and a very good reason for that place being their favourite place; for me I guess the Alameda is that place because of its very powerful emotional attachment resulting from spending hours and hours in there watching my children play. I walk all over the gardens, check out virtually every flower and shrub, smell every scent and most importantly ‘see’ those days-gone-by (in my minds eye) sometimes through tears when my children played in that old painted rowing boat.

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Conscious my visit to the gardens was my last visit possibly for years, or even worse still for ever (because I’m never complacent about the future) I sat down at a favourite bench and listened to the sound of water trickling and bees buzzing. Sometimes that’s all I want to hear.

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