Settling in ....

The week or so since leaving Stanhope has been eventful and stimulating …. the grand old house, full of marble, fifty years of furniture, fittings, ornaments, books, videos a stark contrast to the simple lifestyle of last year's wandering … and the Costa del Sol, just far enough away to avoid daily contact, contrasting with the village life of Stanhope and the Camino life of Northern Spain … yet the Costa, like Albox and the Algarve, providing rich material for writing …. investigating the lives of the North European immigrants and their impact on the lives of their indigenous hosts.

Juliet, her given name and the one she returned to more recently, was called Judy during her San Enrique days … her friends here call her that and the gate to the back garden does too … Il Giardino di Judy … they were the Italian family … though Juliet was English and the children European … as much Andalusian as anything perhaps ...

The friends I have been introduced to this week have been very kind and helpful, though reticent about the blog … for one reason or another … and of course permission has to be sought … can't go stealing people's

souls after all … and old friend of Antonello, Andreas, know as Gato, offers his picture when the Queen of England poses at the local polo club and he manages to get in the frame squeezing her bum … possible a hanging offence and anyway unlikely …. though assorted royals are know to hobnob hereabouts … the acme or maybe acne of the Costa, Sotogrande, being just down the road, pricy enough to keep out the riff-raff and protected by private security if any of us slip through … some years ago a young local was shot dead by the head guard, which caused an uproar …

Gato and Ruff, who has been in Spain many years, specialising in logistics between Morrocco and Northern Europe, have been at the Casa sorting the drains, an annual problem as palm trees grow in them and need clearing. Russ has been a great source of information, being fluent in English, Spanish and Andaluce and an astute commentator on the disaster which is the Costa … and not too keen on England either ...he resists his picture understandably since an altercation with some heavies from Malaga … his autobiography worth a read and downloadable via Amazon (sorry folks, couldn't find it on HIVE ….)

A courtesy call up the hill establishes a friendly English woman who teaches nearby, a less friendly German guy who leaves a quite fierce dog to guard the gate ... at the bottom of the hill on the roundabout by the bridge is Miguel and his two Venezuelan lady employees, which appears to be one of those bars where you have to knock on the door or maybe make an appointment ....

Some decluttering, mostly storing stuff in cupboards and sheds has lightened the space and cleared the mind a little for writing … and there is plenty of material already ….