Gibraltar, Morrocco and cabin fever in La Linea

The rock of Gibraltar really stands out and is a prominent landmark. We came in four days later than we had anticipated, due to the weather conditions. Little did we now when we approached that we would end up staying in La Linea right next to Gibraltar for almost three weeks.

Our new sails were supposed to arrive three days before our arrival. But they were sent to Frankfurt and not Gibraltar and we will soon realise it will take weeks before they arrive.

The Rock of Gibraltar

The day after we docked, we met up with the crew of Snowmane by the Moorish Castle Gate. To enter Gibraltar, we first cross the border and then walk across the famous runway. Beyond that lies the historic "Landport Gate," once the main access point to the Rock of Gibraltar from the mainland. This old gate, dating back to Gibraltar’s early fortifications in the 18th century, was the primary entrance to the city in its time.

We struggle a little to find our way to the castle until we spot the tall redheaded father, Will, on Snowmane that just arrived before us, and we are ready to explore.

The first stop on our hike up to the top of the Rock of Gibraltar are the Siege Tunnels. We put on the required red or white helmets and walk into the major tunnel system. It soon becomes evident that the Canadian crew knows a lot about the history, and we enjoy learning from them as we explore the different parts of the tunnels. Apparently a lot of the workers creating the tunnels during WW2 were Canadians.

 In June 1779, Spain formally declared war on Britain and initiated the siege. The siege began with a blockade of Gibraltar by land and sea, cutting off supplies and reinforcements.

The original intention of the tunnels was to create passageways that could transport soldiers and equipment, but as the tunnels progressed, they became a place to mount large cannons at strategic points. With only basic tools like hammers, chisels, and gunpowder for blasting, the British soldiers managed to carve out the tunnels in just a few months, starting in 1782. The Great Siege occurred during the American Revolutionary War, where Britain was engaged in conflict with its American colonies, and Spain and France sought to weaken British power by reclaiming Gibraltar.

The tunnels are damp, and the lights dim. But much brighter than what it must have been like back then.  

The siege lasted for four grueling years, but by February 1783, mounting exhaustion and heavy losses on both sides compelled Spain and France to agree to lift the siege. During the siege the British could no longer rely on the agricultural produce from Spain, leading to skyrocketing food prices, black markets and widespread spoilage of supplies. This situation took a toll on morale, and many soldiers succumbed to scurvy due to the lack of fresh provisions. This was displayed with dead bodies on a horse cart, a man selling food products hidden behind a dark drown robe and also the penalty with whipping. The number of lashes was reduced to 1,000 at one point to make it more humane….

During World War II, Gibraltar's strategic location once again made it a focal point for military operations, and the existing tunnel systems were extensively expanded and modified.

Between 1940 and 1942, the British military undertook extensive construction efforts, creating a vast network of tunnels within the Rock of Gibraltar.

The project involved digging new tunnels, expanding existing ones, and reinforcing them to withstand bombing and artillery attacks. The tunnels now get command centers, barracks, medical facilities, and ammunition storage areas.

We walk into the “hospital”, there are a few bunk beds but for the most part the exhibition shows soldiers on mattresses on the floor in a huge carved room. A small radio and a few books shows that they had some things for comfort.

The tunnels were designed to be bomb-proof, providing a safe haven for military personnel during air raids.

Military personnel lived and worked in the tunnels, which had limited ventilation and natural light. Despite these conditions, the tunnels provided essential protection from enemy attacks.

You can not walk through these tunnels without imagining what it must have been like, living here as a soldier. The tunnels are narrow and confined, with limited space for movement. The soldiers lived in small barracks carved into the rock, that they shared with several of their comrades. There is minimal natural light, they were relying on artificial lighting. Imagine total lack of sunlight or any kind of landscape to rest your eyes upon, only gray rocky walls. No fresh air, leading to stuffy conditions and a buildup of humidity. You can almost feel the depressed just by picturing how it must have been. The hygiene was not super either. Maintaining morale was crucial, and camaraderie among soldiers became essential for coping with the stressful environment. Lucky for us we can just walk out from the tunnels and soak up the sunlight with no fear for bombs today.

Our walk continues towards the Ape`s Den and we take the narrow steps up towards the top of the rock in the upper rock nature reserve. The stairs are packed with Barbary macaques, the only “wild” monkeys in Europe. Fredrik and Sam take the lead up the stairs and soon find themselves in the middle of a fight between a few of the monkeys. Jenny is also stopped by a male not wanting her to pass, she ends up climbing up on the wall of the stair to get by him.

The Apes' Den is not just a tourist attraction, it represents a unique aspect of Gibraltar’s natural heritage and wildlife. The Barbary macaques have become a symbol of the territory, and efforts to protect and preserve their population contribute to the ecological balance of the area.

The view on top of the Rock is amazing, we can see the Mediterranean, the Atlantic and over to Morocco. We walk down the rock crossing a suspension bridge and go for a kebab in Gibraltar, Fredrik`s been craving it for a few days!

Gibraltar is an interesting city, it’s a combination of old and new buildings. We found a bowling hall and bouldering room in one of the old buildings, without google maps we would not have believed it was there. Christoffer and Emilie really enjoy the climbing, and we go back several times. Espen also got his fish and chips.

After going back and forth we finally decided we want to sail along the coast of Morrocco on our way down to Lanzarote. We apply for a space in the marina in Tangier, and they answer that the first berth available for a catamaran is in April 2025. Snowmane is a monohull so they will leave for Tangier in a couple of days. At the same time we get the message that our sails are not in Gibraltar at all but in Frankfurt and it will take at least another week for them to arrive.

A very nice surprise is that Myrto, the American boat, arrived and got a berth close to us. We really enjoy spending time with them. Stayed up late the night before they decided to go up north towards Cadiz and we straight over to Morrocco. Enjoying Ninas stories about sailing with her father in Alaska, stranded on a beach keeping polar bear watch. They also let us join for a talk with the experienced sailors Jamie and Behan Giffard, www.sailingtotem.com, as to when we see a good weather window for a crossing to the Canaries.  

On the bright side, as we are stuck in La Linea is that there are no really good opportunities to cross right now. Some heavy wind and waves and though weather out in the Atlantic these days.

More on the bright side, we do get time to do a lot of the fixing on the boat that Espen wrote about, everybody had to try to pull the electric cables for the newest solar panels, and it was a pain. We also got a lot of time to catch up on schoolwork. We are so impressed with how Fredrik and Emilie independently work with their school topics. Fredrik miss having a teacher but keeps on working with maths and physics. For Emilie we get her weekly plan sent by e-mail and follow what her class at home are doing.  She also did a maths test- and had only one mistake! Proud of them.

The weather is getting colder, and we've now pulled out our pants and woollen socks. It’s especially chilly in the mornings, so we’ve set up our tent and bought some cozy little cushions and lights to make it feel homier. Like at home, having constant internet access is both a blessing and a challenge—our kids are inevitably drawn to their phones and computers. While we do get more quality time together, I had imagined us playing board games, talking, and living off the grid. As Emilie says, “Ain’t happening.” We’ll see...

After several days in the marina, the cabin fever is starting to set in, and we're all missing friends and family. So, we decide to take a short break from the boat and head to Morocco for a few days. Christoffer, however, prefers some time alone on the boat, so we let him have his much-needed "me time."

Morocco

Emilie looks at me, tears welling in her eyes. "I told you I didn’t want to go in there." We had just stepped back onto the streets of Tangier’s old town after visiting the market, and the experience had clearly overwhelmed her.

As the sun rises behind the Rock of Gibraltar, we catch a taxi in La Línea, heading toward the ferry to Tangier. The moment we disembark, it’s clear we’ve entered a different world. We are greeted by men with dark eyes, well-groomed beards, and strong facial features. Some are dressed in traditional djellabas, each eager to offer us a tour of the city. But our hostel is within walking distance of the port, so we decline and set off on foot.

We walk past the Sidi Bouabid Mosque, built in 1917, during the time of the French and Spanish protectorates in Morocco. Its construction represents a blend of traditional Moroccan Islamic architecture and newer influences brought by the colonial era. The mosque not only holds religious importance but also reflects the historical mingling of Moroccan and foreign influences. As Tangier was an international zone from 1923 to 1956, many different powers held sway over the city, but Islamic culture remained a dominant and enduring part of its identity, as evidenced by landmarks like the Sidi Bouabid Mosque.

We walked past the Hotel Continental. During Tangier's time as an international zone from 1923 to 1956, the hotel attracted diplomats, spies, writers, and expatriates from around the world. It was a favoured location for high society visitors, especially from Europe and America, who were drawn to Tangier's cosmopolitan atmosphere. We continue into the old city of Tangier and past Tangier Grande Mosque. Google maps does not work here so the hostel has sent us a video on how to get there. The narrow streets are filled with shops selling everything from Birkenstock to traditional clothing. Up one of the narrow streets, one filled with green plants we find Socco Hostel. The hostel is nice and the staff amazing. The best part is the roof top terrace. Here we can sit and look out over the old city and the port.

We said we wanted to drink Morroccan mint tea and he told us to find Café Hafa. Café Hafa in Tangier is a legendary spot perched on the cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Opened in 1921, this iconic café has a rich history, attracting writers, musicians, and artists from around the world. It’s famous not just for its simple charm and panoramic views, but for the cultural figures who have visited, including the likes of Paul Bowles, the Rolling Stones, and William S. Burroughs.

We don’t find the café on our first walk through Tangier's Old Medina. Instead, as we weave through the narrow streets, an entrance to a bustling market catches our eye. Espen and I, both market enthusiasts, exchange a look and say, “Let’s check it out!” Emilie hesitates, “I don’t want to.” But we smile and urge her along, “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

The market is filled with fresh fruit and vegetables to start with, then comes the spices, and all the different smells. Men and woman in djellaba are all around us, hair covered, dark beautiful eyes meet ours in the crowded market. We pass a booth selling all the inner organs, kidneys, lungs, liver and intestines, then comes the sheep heads, cows head and the fish. Fredrik loves it. Emilie is quiet. And that how we ended up where the chapter of Morocco started. We take a little time to breath and recover, before we continue our way towards Café Hafa.

Oh, look at this street I say, lets go down here. And off we go, down a street. We get lost. And a young Moroccan with a fake Gucci caps and tracksuit sees his chance and ask us if we need help with directions. We say yes. And he takes us up and down narrow streets, when he does not seem to be interested to get us to Café Hafa and ask us: “Are you happy with me” we know whats going on and say Yes. He continues the guided tour through lovely narrow streets we would not have found by ourselves, and to a friend who sells Moroccan carpets and then again a friend who gives us traditional cuisine for lunch. He smiles a lot and keep touching Fredrik and Espen on the shoulders and back, saying things he expects tourist would like and politely asks for some money for his services.

After lunch we head back to the hostel, Emilie and Fredrik needs a little time to rest. Espen and I take our books and enjoy the roof top and listen to Adhan, the muslim call to prayer.

After a couple of ours we head out again, after asking the girl at the reception if she has a recommendation as to where we should eat. With a big smile she gives us, plan A, B, C and D.

But first we walked to café Hafa, and we made it there for the sunset.  

The café’s terrace is spread across several levels, cascading down the hillside, with rustic white tables adorned in mosaic tiles and chairs offering a magic view of the distant Spanish coast. In the east through the clouds, we can see the rock of Gibraltar.  The place is packed, and we must wait for available chairs. The atmosphere is laid-back, with a timeless charm. Surrounded by both locals and tourists, we sip mint tea with A LOT of sugar, savouring the salty sea breeze as the sun sets on the horizon. Café Hafa isn’t just a place to grab a drink—it’s a cultural landmark. The experience here feels truly one-of-a-kind.

We manage to get a table at option A, Chez.Hassan and enjoyed a fantastic meal.

The next morning, we’re up bright and early. On the rooftop, we enjoy a traditional Moroccan breakfast: a selection of fresh bread like khobz and harsha, fluffy pancakes, eggs, olives, honey, jam, and of course, mint tea. As the sun rises, the call to prayer begins to echo from mosques in every direction, filling the air with a serene, timeless sound. We head down to the grand mosque to wait for our driver. I’ve arranged a guided trip to Chefchaouen, the "Blue City," nestled in the mountainous region of northern Morocco. As we wait, we wonder why he chose to meet us in these narrow, bustling streets. Just then, another driver ahead of him rounds the corner and collides with a small, three-wheeled car. Espen jumps in to help push the little vehicle aside, clearing the way—and soon, we’re off on our journey. The landscape is dry to start with but as we head up the mountains it gets greener. We see sheep, cows, donkeys, a peacock and a lot of locals hitchhiking. Many are wearing the traditional hat.

The driver drives fast and has a cold. We think we got what he had when we were back in Spain.

Chefchaouen, the Blue City, is breathtakingly beautiful. Being up in the mountains, surrounded by fresh air, feels refreshing, and visiting in the off-season is a blessing—it's pleasantly cool, and the usual crowds are thinner. We wander through enchanting narrow streets, with walls painted in every shade of blue imaginable. Along the way, we sip fresh mountain water and try pomegranate and orange juice pressed right here in town. Cats lounge everywhere, adding to the city’s charm and unique character. We visit a baker, showing us how they make the traditional bread in a huge wood fired oven. And off course we are dragged into shops selling all sorts of things. A bit of miscommunication between Espen and me, we ended up buying a small Morroccan rug, made by divorced woman (we hope). It now gives a bit of colour to our boat and a good memory from the trip. Looking at the mountains we long for a hike but we are heading back to Spain the same evening.

After being here we are feeling a bit sad that we could not travel down the Moroccan coats with our boat. And see that we need to plan further ahead, but somethings usually come up😊

Back in La Linea its cold and we get a bit of rain. Espen is not feeling well and after I pushed the whole family out for a short run Espen and Christoffer gets sick. I spend most of my time testing different recipes for my pressure cooker. I make beef bourguignon, butter chicken and sweet potato and chickpea curry. We bought a small freezer a while back, so now we got to test it. I also peeled and vacuum packed ingredients for a carrot and ginger soup, and a potato and leek soup. I really enjoy shopping for groceries here. The amount of local and organic products are huge, and the quality great. It is easy to buy locally grown product in season.

The sails have arrived! The weather is finally looking better for our crossing to Gran Canaria, so we decide to set off first coming Wednesday, even though Espen isn't feeling well. But when Wednesday arrives, we wake up to strong winds and rain hitting the boat. Checking PredictWind, we see that the Atlantic waves are larger than expected, so we decide to wait. New departure day is set to Friday and we decide to go straight to Las Palmas. In hindsight, it was the right call, as the extra two days gave us time to prepare thoroughly. Once again, we go over the safety list, check that we have everything in place. Talk to the kids about what to do.

 We are as ready as we can be for our longest crossing yet.   

-Anicke