Category Archives: travel

2:35 (1976) What a wonderful legacy Mrs Dumoulin

21 Thursday Jul 2016

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In my last post I talked about our first trip over to Morocco during which Carol warmed very much to the culture of that nation and just thinking about that (in the present day) I wanted to flag up a really nice restaurant I discovered in May. The place is called Marrakech serving genuine Moroccan cuisine and the owners are really welcoming; it’s up behind the Gibraltar Art Gallery so if you love traditional Moroccan food I very much recommend it.
(2016 Marrakech Restaurant, Gibraltar)

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Increasingly it’s really nice that readers are interacting more with me, sharing their memories or commenting on (or clarifying) something I’ve written; it’s great for me to make new friends – (some of whom I’ve booked to have a pot of tea with when I return to the Rock) – and I really do appreciate every comment. Many thanks to Rob who reminded me that the boat to Morocco was called Mons Calpe and kindly sent me a photo which I have now added to that particular post. 



(2016 Bakers Passage and the brass plate to the Dumoulin residence with thanks to William Serfaty for the photos)

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Sometimes there are comments made which I feel I want to share with everyone and one such comment was made yesterday by Maruchi Golt who (in talking about our childminder) said:
“Mrs Dumoulin lived in Bakers Passage where she kept a nursery (my children attended). Sadly Mrs Dumoulin passed away a couple of months ago. A lovely woman. A beautiful family”.
When I read that comment I was really saddened because if I had remembered where the lady lived I would certainly have called in to see her when I was in Gibraltar in May and unbeknown to me that was the last opportunity I would ever have. Perhaps I may find a way in due course to respectfully offer my condolences to Mrs Dumoulin’s family; as Maruchi said she truly was a lovely woman.


(1976/77 Gibraltar Pre-School Playgroup. Tracey is second row down, third from the left) 

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On a happier note (as a result of her input from Mrs Dumoulin) Tracey was well prepared to join her pre-school playgroup and adapted very quickly; she was also able to cope with all of her transitions in later years. I often wonder how many children passed through Mrs Dumoulin’s care over the years; what a wonderful legacy.

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2:34 (1976) A boat to Morocco 

21 Thursday Jul 2016

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In an earlier post (2:31) I talked about how more and more we had begun making relationships with local people and one of those people was a lady called Mrs Doomaleen (the spelling of her name may not be right) who became a trusted and regular childminder for us. Initially Mrs Doomaleen would look after the children for short spells (a morning or an afternoon) if we needed her to but then later (on three or four occasions) she cared for them for whole days to give us both a really good break. A couple of those breaks were outings with the Naval Wives Club and a couple were with friends but certainly at least three of them were trips over to Morocco.
(1976 Bland Line Ferry, a boat to Morocco)

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(Mons Calpe, the boat to Morocco)


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The first time we visited Morocco was with friends and (if my memory serves me right) we took a boat to Tangier with Sandy and Penny. I’d visited Africa in the past on several occasions and sadly they were all negative experiences; in Sierra Leone I was beaten up and robbed, in South Africa during apartheid I was seriously at risk needing a police escort to safety and in Mombasa I was very much hassled so Africa wasn’t a place I had a desperate need to revisit. However, Carol hadn’t travelled very much and had a deep desire to go; in fairness to her the culture of Morocco (dress, food, smells, traditions) has remained a great love to her (although on every trip my antenna were up for danger and I never fully relaxed). 


(1976 Carol in red and Penny on camels)

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If I have one anecdote that still makes me smile it must be the one when we were all sitting in a cafe and I asked the waiter for a packet of cigarettes. ‘One moment Sir’ he said and then shot out of the cafe ran into the desert and over the horizon. As we all looked at each other agog – before laughing out loud – I eventually managed to mumble ‘Something I said?’. 

Eventually about half an hour later we saw an image reappear on the horizon getting bigger as it came running toward us; it was our waiter and in his hand was a packet of cigarettes. Heaven only knows where he’d been to get them (Rabat?) but clearly they were not easy to buy, in fact it appears it would have been easier for me to buy any drug you could mention than a packet of cigarettes – and a sight cheaper. The cigarettes were so expensive in Morocco that on future visits I took loads to barter with tradesmen and sellers.


(1976 Me and Sandy on camels)

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(1976 A lifetime animal lover. It costs nothing to be kind. Penny and Sandy in the background)

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For Carol, though, this first visit was very magical and I loved that and was thrilled that she could take away great memories. The day had all the ingredients of a fantastic tourist trip including camel rides, the King’s Palace, the Kasbah (with thankfully no negative experiences) but it also had an amazingly special memory (for Carol) which even I struggled to believe. 

Right in the middle of the Kasbah, in a very thin back alley we were all trying to push our way through the crowds when someone shouted to Carol ‘I know you’. Astonished we all looked to see who had said it and saw a local man in traditional dress sitting in his tiny shop; elaborating he said he recognised Carol from a visit he had made to Wales selling rugs once at a Trade Fair. Immediately Carol confirmed that as a teenager she worked in the Bay Hotel in Goodwick which hosted the event; the man said he recognised Carol by her very unique steel blue eyes. I think that sealed Carols love of Morocco and (in some ways) gave me faith back in people of the African continent.

2:33 (1976) Royal Naval Hospital Gibraltar (RNH)

20 Wednesday Jul 2016

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In one of my previous memoirs (2:22 (1976) Nuffield Pool and Europa Point) I wrote a little bit about the day I realised I had developed a stomach ulcer (during a Navy swimming gala). The ulcer was as a result of binge drinking in the Far East which had left me alcohol dependent although since having my own family it was an issue I’d managed to keep control of. What I had no control over, however, was the abdominal pains and in due course I ended up in RNH for some pretty invasive and unpleasant tests which I don’t really think readers want to know too much about.What was interesting though was my baby Samantha also ended up in RNH at exactly the same time although not for anything serious, just to have a small cyst that she had been born with removed from her nose.


(RNH Back in the day)

Naturally Sam was in the children’s ward and my ward was on the floor below but that didn’t stop me sneaking out of bed when I could and nipping up to see her; the only time I wasn’t able to do that was when I was ‘spaghetti man’ with tubes coming out of everywhere. Carol, bless her, had two of us to visit twice a day which was no easy task considering RNH was quite a distance from Edinburgh House and she also had Tracey to consider.

Not long before I went into hospital Carol and I had been to see an Irish trio (popular at the time) called the Bachelors perform at Inces Hall; as a child I learned most of their songs (Marta, I believe, My Diane) because my foster parents had lots of their records (that I eventually inherited) which they played religiously every Sunday. During their time in Gibraltar the Bachelors called in at RNH children’s ward and met my daughter Sam who they ‘kissed on the cheek’. When Sam was older and we told her about this ‘claim to fame’ – her unimpressed response was ‘Who are the Bachelors?’. 


(2016 RNH taken during my MedStepsChallenge)

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It wasn’t just the Bachelors that Sam rubbed shoulders with, celebrities seemed to often cross her path. One day while I was at work Carol had taken the children for a walk up Main Street and bought them an ice cream. Just as Sam was about to lick her ice cream a very tall man accidentally knocked it out of her hand onto the floor; the man turned out to be the magician Tommy Cooper. As Sam screamed Tommy tried to console her but was castigated by his wife who ushered him off before he had chance to make amends. It wasn’t something Carol ever forgot or forgave and when she told me about it I was horrified. Manners maketh the man.


(1976 Carol and the children on Main Street)

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After Sam had her cyst removed she made a full recovery and we were thrilled that the surgery left no scar whatsoever. As for me I ended up on medication to manage pain and acid production although twenty years later would need surgery for a perforated ulcer. All of my recollections of RNH are really positive; the staff were a fantastically dedicated team who (during 1977) would also care for Carol during a six weeks stay in the hospital which I will write about in due course. (Thank you RNH).

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2:32 (1976) In Alameda Gardens my children’s faces said it all

19 Tuesday Jul 2016

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If I lived in Gibraltar today I would probably want to adopt a couple of kids just so that I could take them to play in the Children’s Playground in Alameda Botanical Gardens. Yes, okay, I know, I’m being silly writing that (and there’s more chance of seeing pigs fly) but I guess the point I’m trying to make is that when I look back at photos of my children playing there I don’t really need to write anything because their faces say it all.  

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Of course I’m totally biased (because readers will already be aware of my love for Alameda) but it doesn’t take a professor to know that kids would rather have 5 minutes than £5 and I can’t think of anywhere better to spend time with them.


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The play park itself was very basic back in 1976 but in those days that’s exactly what children wanted, uncomplicated play. Alameda children’s park has changed quite a lot since then, if I remember rightly it looks much more like an adventure playground with nets to climb and obstacles up a height. I guess play parks have had to up their game to compete with technology these days but there’ll always be something lovely about simplicity for the little people.


On my recent visits in and out of Alameda (May 2016) I noticed loads of new ideas taking shape and loved them all particularly the children’s garden that was planted with all sorts of vegetables and which even has a bee hotel; also the new and wonderful indoor botanical garden that was inaugurated this year by the Chief Minister Fabian Picardo. Sadly it was locked on the day I went to see it but I did get a grasp of things looking through the windows. A personal favourite new arrival that was certainly not there in 1976 is the Monkey Totem Pole (check him out).


(2016 Children’s Garden, Alameda with Bee Hotel)



(2016 Monkey Totem Pole, Alameda)


(2016 Indoor Botanical garden, Alameda)


(2016 Selfie in Alameda)

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For me I think much of the charm of Alameda is that even when I’m on my own I find it almost like a retreat; I can be lost in there all day (as though in David Bowie’s Labyrinth) either walking the walks and enjoying the flora, or sitting in the midst of a rockery smelling the herbs and reflecting on life. I can be in a place where the only thing I can hear is silence and then a few minutes later the sounds of children playing. And that really brings me nicely back to my theme of today, the children growing up. The photos on this page are among my favourite of all time because looking at them I see my children as they began that process of growing up (in the beautiful Alameda).

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2:31 (1976) Some days I swore we’d morphed into Gibraltarians

18 Monday Jul 2016

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Life for us in Gibraltar (particularly now we were happily installed in Edinburgh House) just got better day by day; part of the reason for that (I think) was because the climate was lovely, we had made some really nice friends and we were finally beginning to feel as though we belonged somewhere. Thinking back our network of friends was strong and so our social life was really good; typically there were regular functions at the Fleet Pav(illion) – now a multi-storey car park – (including bingo nights and summer balls), there was steak nights at the Rock Hotel and for raucous dance nights there was the Buccaneer nightclub (now no more). 
(Door to what used to be the Buccaneer nightclub)

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One enduring memory I have of the Buccaneer was standing at the bar in there and watching a Royal Marine being thumped so hard he was laid out; the reason it’s so memorable is because as I looked at the marine flat out on the floor Carol said ‘she’ had clocked him one because he had ‘touched her up’. Shock mixed with total admiration on the way home 🙂


(1976 At home 21 Edinburgh House)

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But our sense of belonging wasn’t just as a result of being connected to other military families; we were becoming very close as a family and loved spending time together. As well as that we were also beginning to connect with local people too. As the children were growing it was lovely seeing them become more aware and fascinated by both their surroundings and local people and so we would often take them for walks into town when locals would stop us to talk to the children and make a fuss of them (bambinos) – they loved it and so did we. If we paused at the Piazza for drinks they would take the children for a walk around the square (to give us a break :)).


Retracing my steps. Top photo 1976 at John Mac Hall. Lower photo 40 years later in 2016 in the same place)

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On my recent visit (2016) I revisited many of our old haunts and walked around many of our favourite walks and there were times when I would just stop and sit to relive certain moments.

(1976 Out and about in Gibraltar)

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I think our connections with local people were also quite strong because Carol made all the children’s clothes (and many of her own) and so often shopped locally (in those little shops – Princess Silks was little in those days with no cellar) and got to know local traders selling fabric and haberdashery and the like; many military families we knew didn’t go in those kind of shops but since we didn’t have a lot of money we did – thankfully Carol was a very talented tailoress. Later, we also began using the services of local people to babysit the children when (for example) we got the chance for a day trip out (sometimes to Morocco on trips organised by the Naval Wives). Somedays I could swear we had morphed overnight into Gibraltarians.

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2:30 (1976) She may be old but she’s priceless (and from Gibraltar)

16 Saturday Jul 2016

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Naturally I’m writing this blog today (16/7/16) although the story I am writing about is from 1976. Sometimes though I include something from the present which may be relevant to what I’m writing about. For example tomorrow (17/6/16) we’re having a family BBQ at home and at its not unusual (at those sort of gatherings) for me to dig out my old tapes of pop songs from my era – much to the distaste (and disgust) of younger members of the family who naturally want to hear their own contemporary favourites. The very idea that my music is on ‘tapes’ is in itself enough reason for them to all fall about laughing and from the minute the first song comes on they just want to dig a hole and get in it. Nevertheless fair is fair in war and peace and if I have to listen to their rhubarb they have to listen to mine 🙂 
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The ‘tapes’ I’m referring to are a collection of 3 volumes (photo above) which were specially made for me in Gibraltar (with songs of my choice) by a fellow serviceman (I think he was a Crab-Fat from the RAF with access to a load of recording gear) after we had bought a new 3-in-1 music centre. The music centre was our pride and joy and we were able to buy it because Carol had a small amount of money left to her in her grandmothers will. The reason the tapes (and the music on them) is so special to me is that they were played at all of our house parties during our entire time in Gibraltar and so they bring back wonderful memories of wonderful times. When I listen to them I’m there; I’m hosting one of our parties at Edinburgh House for all of our friends. In fairness to the younger family members they do understand that and so there is a bit of give and take.


(Some of my musical inspirations)

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As a child in the 60s I was a massive fan of the music of the day, to me it was a fantastic era for progressive artists, bands and rock and roll; I was addicted to the Beatles, the Stones, the Kinks and the Who, all of whom made a huge impact on me. Even more influential to me were the solo singer/songwriters Bob Dylan, Cat Stevens, Donovan and others; to see solo musicians with a guitar captivate audiences was so magical to me; by the time I lived in Gibraltar I was desperate to have my own guitar and learn to play. 


(The Duchess)

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I don’t remember if it was a birthday or a Christmas present from Carol but I do remember her buying me my first guitar in Gibraltar and it was the most amazing surprise. On that nylon string acoustic I would learn to play many of the songs of my heroes and later perform them at gigs all across the UK. Today I own four guitars including that very first one which I call the Duchess. She may be old, but she’s priceless. And she still comes with me to entertain toddlers in pre-school playgroups and crèches. (She’s also from Gibraltar 🙂 ).

2:28 (1976) 21 Edinburgh House, Queensway

14 Thursday Jul 2016

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Living in our caravan was always really cosy and the views of the Rock from our lounge window were fabulous but space was very limited and so when we finally got the news we had a married quarter we were dancing. (Although my dancing is a bit like Mr Beans). Our new and final abode in Gibraltar would be 21 Edinburgh House, a three bed flat on the first floor, opposite Rooke barracks on Queensway. 

(1976 Tracey at our new flat)


(2016 Our same flat 40 years later)

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Edinburgh House was (and still is) a collection of several hundred flats (in two storey buildings) occupied (then) by both Royal Navy and RAF personnel; they were designed in quadrangles with communal space in the middle. In the seventies our communal space was a play park for the children; today it is car parking spaces and the flats are no longer for military personnel. On my recent trip (2016) I spent almost an hour having a fascinating chat to the present tenant and I’ll write about that in Chapter 3. Back then the NAAFI was where most service families shopped and conveniently it was just over the road. Another attraction of the NAAFI was that service families could have credit for things like electrical items and there was also a Christmas Club which allowed us to buy stamps and save up for presents and the festive season. For our family things like that were really helpful.


(Carol with (the wonderfully funny) Funky (with pegs on his ears) and Claudia on our balcony

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Our flat was in the quadrangle nearest to Rooke barracks and so nipping home for lunch was quick and easy; another great thing about it was that most of our new friends were also in our rectangle. Virtually opposite was Steve (Funky) Gibbons (an electrician) and his wife Claudia; looking left from our balcony was Penny and her hubby Sandy Saunders (a leading rate in my own department). Both Funky and Steve appealed to me the minute I met them because of their dry senses of humour. Although those two couples didn’t have children they were still very close to us in our social circle; all of us would often hoof over to the Fleet Pavillion (Fleet Pav) across the road for bingo nights, socials and those more informal evenings that insipired the women to make new evening gowns for the occasion. On several occasions Sandy and Penny came with us on trips to Morocco which I’ll write about later.


(Tracey in pink and white frock hosting one of her parties with friends)


(Tracey and Sam in pink bonnets playing with Jim and Betty’s daughters in Alameda Play Park)


One couple who did have children and were very good friends were Jim and Betty Simm; their two daughters often played with ours and we all had many a birthday party in each other’s flats or a trip to Alameda Play Park. 

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Life in Gibraltar had just got even better.

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2:27 (1976) At the top of Gibraltar I’m on top of the world.

13 Wednesday Jul 2016

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It isn’t often I’ve stood on top of a mountain but on the rare occasions I have there’s something very liberating about it. It reminds me how small and insignificant I am in the scale of things which I think is really healthy; sometimes life can be so busy that (by default) I start feeling ultra important (which I’m totally not), become very self focused and end up becoming quite inconsiderate and intolerant of others. To look out at the land, sea and air from up on high puts me in touch with my own mortality; what I’m looking out at has been there for millennia and has probably been seen by millions of people – if it ever looked back at me all it would see would be just one ordinary 61 year old man. 

(1976 Trafalgar House)


(2016 Trafalgar House)

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Standing atop the Rock of Gibraltar (to me) is awesome for all of the reasons mentioned but also for something else; a massive sense of belonging. I felt a connection with the Rock from the very first time I went to the top and still feel it now even after a forty years absence. When I look at photos from the seventies and compare them to more recent ones I love seeing the familiar things blending with newer developments; it’s almost like seeing an ongoing maintenance not dissimilar to looking after a vintage classic car. There’s something very reassuring about seeing the Trafalgar House building in a seventies photo and then still seeing it there in a 2016 photo alongside contemporary high rise apartment buildings.


(1976 At the Top of the Rock Cafe)

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There’s several ways to get to the top of the Rock including taxis, Rock Tours operators, the cable car or even (for the fit folks) walking up. When you arrive at the top there are fabulous views and photo opportunities from all sides and a cafe to chill with refreshments and pick up a few souvenirs. The photos above are of Carol and me on our first trip together to the Top of the Rock Cafe (we took the cable car); it’s really weird to say that I not only remember the shirt I’m wearing – I still have it! Couldn’t make that up! All around the cafe a troop of Rock apes welcome the visitors, play, feed and pinch whatever isn’t held tightly.

(2016 RockHeart. Title photo. Taken on MedStepsChhallenge2016)

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As well as the Cafe summit there are other peaks on Gibraltar. One is towards Europa Point which you can ascend via the Mediterranean Steps from Jews Gate (very recommendable) and another is quite a steep walk up the North Face passing Moorish Castle, the World War 2 Tunnel and the City Under Siege along the way. I’ve been up all three of the ones I’ve described and love all of them for their totally different experiences and their beautiful differing views. When I’m at the top of Gibraltar I’m on top of the world.

2:26 (1976) Camp Bay, Rosia, Gibraltar

12 Tuesday Jul 2016

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One of the great things about writing these memoirs is I’m in touch with many Gibraltarians (and others with a passion for the Rock) on Twitter; quite often I’m able to ask them if my writings are correct (authentic) which allows me to make any changes. More and more we are often having conversations on Gibraltar themes which are quite fascinating for both me and them. (Readers are welcome at my Twitter @spailpinfanac).
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Today I posted a photo on Twitter and asked for help in identifying the location because I couldn’t remember where it was and it didn’t look familiar to me; it wasn’t long before several people joined in the thread and helped me out with the conversation continuing (on-and-off) for most of the day.


(Tracey at Camp Bay).

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The photo I posted on Twitter is the one above and (thanks to Twitter friends) turns out to be Camp Bay; the child in the photo (in red) is my daughter Tracey. The photo below was one that I found with the other and is of Carol which I now think was also taken at Camp Bay on the same day.


(Camp Bay. Carol and Tracey)

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Now that I know the photos are of Camp Bay I do remember that lovely outdoor lido atmosphere about the place and the gorgeously warm days; I’m not sure but I think that side of the Rock had the sun longer than the other which made for lovely long days. 


(Camp Bay 2016)

During the conversations I had on Twitter a really interesting discussion ensued about the ornamental ‘Dolphins’ in the Camp Bay pool. I think people said there were three of them and that they used to spout water like fountains but were no longer there today. I couldn’t remember them at all and wondered if they were even there in the 70s at the same time as me – until someone actually pointed one of them out in my own photo (at top); ha ha couldn’t have made that up. If you look very closely at that photo you may be able to make out the black back of one of the dolphins just to the right of the lamp post. It’s funny because since it was pointed out to me I do now recollect the Dolphins and think it’s really sad that they are not there anymore. It would be lovely if they included them somewhere within the Camp Bay complex.
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Throughout our time in Gibraltar we were always spoiled for choice in the evenings and at the weekends because there were so many places to take the children and spend quality family time. On my recent visit (May 2016) my most enduring thought on leaving was that had changed – there were even more lovely things to do and places to go in Gibraltar than ever which I will write about in Chapter 3 of these memoirs.

*UPDATE FROM NICKY DANINO: hi Alan the dolphins are still there, just not in the actual pool. when they refurbished the pool they took them out and they are now lined up to one side!

2:25 (1976) “Daddy can we go to see the monkeys now please?”

11 Monday Jul 2016

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(1976 with Tracey and monkeys)

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Carol and the children had been in Gibraltar for I guess about six weeks when one Saturday morning Tracey asked “Daddy can we go to see the monkeys now please?” 


(My photo May 2016)

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I was shocked, outraged and speechless but not at Tracey. At myself. After all the things she had coped with over the past months the only thing she had wanted was for me to take her to see the monkeys – and I’d forgotten! Without saying a word my little three year old had sensed I had been busy with other things so had waited and trusted that I would eventually plan it and that one day I would say to her that today was the day. But I hadn’t (because I had forgotten) and so she had had to come to me and ask. I felt totally dreadful. 


(My photo May 2016)

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Lifting her onto my knee and giving her a massive hug I said to her “Yes sweetheart, today is the day we can go to see the monkeys”. After watching our conversation Carol (thinking quickly on her feet) said “Come on then. Let’s choose our frocks and get ready for our day out then you can help Mummy to get Sammie and the bags ready” to which Tracey bounced off my knee with an excited smile on her face. That one short conversation I had with my child taught me more about parenting than anything else since, even though (ironically) I deliver parenting courses as part of my work role today. The idea I wasn’t in tune with my child really hurt me inside and I vowed not to let that happen again.


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The wild Barbary macaques of Gibraltar are the monkeys Tracey was talking about; they are world famous and thought to be the biggest tourist attraction of the Rock. Wikipedia will tell readers that there are 5 separate troops of apes on the Rock numbering 300 individuals although on my recent visit (May 2016) the Ranger said there were 6 troops numbering an estimated 250. Whatever the correct figure is isn’t really relevant within this memoir so much as the fact that if you don’t visit the apes on a trip to Gibraltar – you have ‘not’ been to Gibraltar, such is their relevance. Legend has it that if the apes ever leave the Rock it will cease to be British.

(Love the way Sammies foot sticks out from the papoose on my shoulder X )


(My lovely little daughter with ‘her’ monkey)

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In the cable car on the way up to the apes den Tracey was so excited – and we were even more excited for her. The minute we stepped off the cable car her eyes were all over the place like lighthouse beacons as they searched for the monkeys and it wasn’t long before she found them. Bless her. To see the wonder in her eyes on that day remains one of my favourite memories – and also one of hers 🙂 

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I loved how she literally kneeled down to get a closer look at the monkeys, she’d heard so much about them there was almost this need in her to get as close as possible to check out the information she had in her head. What was even more amazing was how the monkeys related back to her; most of them were bigger than her and (since they are wild animals) could easily have hurt her but the opposite happened. The monkeys seemed to warm to her and be aware of her vulnerability. I swear if I had left her there they would have looked after her and raised her. She totally loved her day and I totally loved that she loved her day