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It’s Christmas Day 2016 and its 6pm. It’s exactly the day and the time that I knew back in May I would be sitting down writing my final post for my RockHeart. I don’t know how I knew that, I just did.

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It’s been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life to relive and recall my memories of Gibraltar and sometimes it’s also been the most emotional. Some people may even say at times I’ve been over emotional but I make no apology for that. As I’ve sat down almost daily to write there have been times when some issues have touched on a nerve and left me almost so buried in emotion its come out all over the page but for what it’s worth it was never contrived. If I’ve written emotionally it’s because I’ve felt it. But what has been even more rewarding than writing (for me) has been reading the comments made by readers which have very often kept me going at times when I very nearly stopped. Thank you so very much for that X 

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It was in 1964 (as a 9 year old little boy) that I first heard about the Rock that was Gibraltar; my cousin Paul was a Leading Seaman in the Royal Navy and he’d been there many times, it was his favourite place. I’d sit agog with eyes widening as he told me about how this massive great Rock sat on a lump of land only a few square miles in size and how its small community shared the place with wild apes! He’d go on to tell me about Singapore, Hong Kong and Bangkok but one way and another I’d bring him back to telling me the same stories over and over again about that big Rock with the wild apes on it.

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Today, in 2016, as I sat in the taxi taking me to the airport I thought of my cousin Paul as I looked out at the Rock; the mist had descended taking away it’s beautiful, sunny, warm image giving it an eerie look as if to cushion the fact that I had to leave – I could almost hear the Rock whisper ‘Why would you want to stay somewhere this miserable Alan?’ to which I thought ‘You should know better than to even think that let alone ask it’. I don’t make a habit of talking to rocks but in Gibraltar’s case I make an exception. 

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My own first visit to Gibraltar was in 1974 as a young Royal Navy sailor and I was totally smitten by it; it was everything Paul had said it would be and even more as well. As was tradition (back then) after leaving Gibraltar I sailed out to the Far East (just as Paul had) visiting Singapore, Hong Kong, Bangkok and many more places before finally calling back (once again) at Gibraltar en route back to UK and I loved it, I just loved it. On my travels around the world I’d been in serious danger on more than one occasion, very nearly being killed on two; but when I stepped ashore on the Rock I didn’t just feel safer and happier than anywhere in the world, I felt at home. 

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Looking out of my taxi window the mist seemed to be getting worse by the minute and (crossing my fingers) just for a moment the thought crossed my mind that they might cancel my flight; but then as we crossed the runway that thought evaporated away as I spotted my aircraft sitting there waiting for me like some spider waiting for a fly to land on its net.

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It was when I returned to Gibraltar in 1976 to live on the Rock with my family (for two glorious years) this beautiful little Nation (that same one I was smitten with on first sight) began moving into my DNA. It was a time steeped in happy irreplaceable memories – some of which I’ve managed to recapture in these memoirs – and when I look back at that time I realise as a family we very nearly morphed into locals as it appeared we knew more Gibraltarians than service personnel.

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As I stepped out of the taxi at the airport I caught sight of my reflection in a window. Pausing a moment I thought about all of the really nice people I’d met during the past week who had taken the time to talk to me and make me feel welcome – many of whom have become firm friends (and who six months later I’m still in touch with). I thought about many other people too who I didn’t get the opportunity to literally meet but who had engaged with me on Twitter during the week and who still remain virtual friends via the Internet. Being received by total strangers in that way just gave me a wonderful sense of belonging that even at my age I totally love.

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Boarding my plane I turned at the top step to take a last look at ‘my’ beloved Gibraltar; even covered in mist it was still everything it had always been to me and everything I wanted it to be. Minutes later I was physically in the air with my body speeding at hundred of miles an hour towards the UK leaving my heart and soul behind on that beautiful mist covered Rock. But that’s okay. I’ll be back often to visit them – and I won’t be leaving it forty years before I do.

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Thank you Gibraltar X Bless you. Lots of love. Alan.

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