I recently embarked on a mission to be reunited with my sister and nephews after having been separated by the COVID pandemic for more than eighteen months. Our destination? Gibraltar. Having been given a “green” status by the U.K government it was the perfect safe ground for us all to meet. Coming from Madrid, they were travelling by car and I flew in direct from Bristol in the U.K.
On arrival, I knew relatively little about Gibraltar save that it was an important base for the Royal Navy as it controlled the entrance and exit to the Mediterranean Sea. A naval choke point, it remains strategically important with half the world’s seaborne trade passing through the strait.
Before landing, iconic images came to mind such as the parachuting scene in the Bond film “The Living Daylights” where special forces descend in free fall down the Rock of Gibraltar. This rock was clear to see as we approached for landing. I also recalled stories of the “apes” who inhabit the rock and are notoriously mischievous.
Having organised this reunion, my sister’s plan was for us all to catch up on lost time, enjoy the sun, eat great food, and have a little adventure. Gibraltar boasts an array of amazing attributes. A first rate hospitality industry and friendly locals. The amenities and architecture. The history and culture reflected in a subtle blend of British and Spanish tradition.
On a more personal level, this visit became something entirely more significant than I had expected. Many years ago, I experienced a bout of mental ill-health where I found myself hospitalised for a couple of weeks. This is something I have overcome over the years with help from family and friends and regular medication. One experience from this time has stayed with me ever since and came about when I was at my lowest ebb.
One night as I slept I had the most intensely vivid and lucid dream I had ever dreamt. I was alone, treading water far out to sea in the middle of the doldrums. With no land in sight there was only the gentle lapping of the water and blue sky over head. Gradually, I felt a presence coming towards me. I didn’t feel threatened as it somehow augured a friendly meeting. Slowly, but surely, the surface of the water was broken as a dolphin surfaced right in front of me. It surfaced once, very slowly, and then stooped back into the water raising it’s dorsal fin as it dived.
When I awoke, I felt reassured and immensely peaceful. My sense of shame, of guilt, and inadequacy had been replaced by something bigger and more beautiful. The fact that I was capable of such a vision gave me back my confidence and self-esteem. I kept this dream to myself for the better part of twenty years.
I had never seen a dolphin for “real” before visiting Gibraltar. We took a boat out into the bay and within fifteen minutes were greeted by a pod of twenty dolphins leaping and diving next to us. I remembered my dream and felt I had somehow come full circle. For me, a dolphin’s eyes are so friendly, almost clown-like. Later that day, I had a coffee in a cafe with my sister and told her for the first time the story of my dream. We agreed that dreams, for us both, are as real as anything else. To call them “unreal” is a falsehood as they are something we experience.
Experiences like having a macaque land on your head on the top of the Rock of Gibraltar or a sparrow landing on your glass just twelve inches from your face are tangibly “real” but will persist as real only in memory. This is something Gibraltar taught me. Our present reality is something we have to control with self-determination. However, there is such a thing as a run of the ball. Not knowing when a dolphin is going to leap, when an ape is going to jump, or a bird land on your glass keeps you on your toes and when they happen give you a sense of triumph. They are a privilege and not to be taken for granted. Just as Gibraltar’s identity has twisted and turned over the years so do our own paths.
One thing is for sure, Gibraltar made me feel like a winner. Shouldn’t we all?
I’m D.B.G (Dan Barnaby Goddard), a writer and recording artist based on Dartmoor in the West of the U.K. My songs are musical poems reflecting things I have seen and felt throughout my life and I’m always on the lookout for stories which reaffirm my trust in humanity and the human spirit.
In this Buzz column I seek out instances to fill in the spaces left by an increasingly corporate world, commenting on the unpredictable and heart warming gems which are created as the wheels of power keep turning round.
