Location: La Linea, Spain and Gibraltar
Never in my life have I ever seen a shorter border crossing. When I go to Mexico and surf some nar, the queue to get back into the States always has me regretting the thought of going in the first place because you’re constantly fighting for your spot in line against 1000 other OH (overheated) people regretting the fact that they went all the way south to Mexico. Just to get a few clay pots…hahahaha (Mom). But when it’s done, and you finally hit the 405fw at the same time your blood pressure begins to lower, you realize how worthwhile it all was that you happen to catch some tube action and at the same time stuff your whip (car) with all the pots to last you a decade. That’s not the case whatsoever here in Gibraltar. For example, it’s about eleven-thirty as my mates and I make our way back to the boat when we begin to approach the border. We get smack dab in front of the border patrol, and he doesn’t even bother to check our passports. At the same time, some people take the liberty to walk out of Gibraltar through the entrance sign and back into Spain. Gibraltar, as bloody expensive as you happen to be, with your fish and chips along with your lax border policies, you are indeed a horrible case of a great time.