KARETHE LINAAE
Ever since we started exploring Andalucía with the dream of moving here, I fell in love with the alleys of southern Spain. Every town here has its special charm, so I cannot say which one I like the best. Yet, when it comes to secret side streets and twisting lanes, old Sevilla is certainly high…
A few months ago we were looking for a blacksmith to make us a firewood holder. In many countries ironmongers like shoemakers are virtually obsolete, yet here in Andalucía they are as busy as ever. We were told that the local smith had his shop just off the main square and if he wasn’t…
It hadn’t rained since late April. The fields were brown sticks and the soil ravaged and bone dry. If we were to believe Antonio, the 85-year-old farmer up the street, and we always do, it would not rain until November. The heat was stifling day as well as night. Occasionally, we would have a few…
The world is full of daredevils who will sink their grimy nails into any piece of vertical rock, with or without safety. El Caminito used to be one of the places where human spiders with suction cups for hands used to convene to dare each other into virtually walking on air. Some did it, their hair-raising…
It is harvest time. That is to say, we are harvesting our lavender – all two plants of them. This may not seem like much, and it certainly wasn’t when we bought a couple of 1.50-euro pots three summers back. But things can certainly grow on these latitudes and the same plants are now giant…
No doubt about it, summer is here. The other day Sevilla reached 47 degrees Celsius and this is early July! Here in Ronda we are not far behind, so what does a Viking with low heat tolerance, a virtual heat wimp, do to survive the summers of Southern Spain? As I haven’t figured out my…
Last week, I was a substitute for an English teacher in town. Summer being here and exams over, I asked the giggly teenagers about their preferred mode of travel. They all answered Planes, even a student who had never been on one. “What about trains?” I asked, receiving eye-rolls all around. Trains are for old…
“Are you a good or a bad co-pilot?” was the topic of discussion on Radio Andalucía a while back. I certainly belong to the latter group, having often led my husband astray, sending him left instead of right at some vital road crossing. Indeed, one could say that I am the co-pilot from hell, though…
My husband, bless his heart, has often bemoaned his wife’s lack of skills and interest in the cooking department. To be just, he is absolutely right. I am not a cook. He was taught to cook by his Basque mother and received chef training in Continental and Asian cuisine. He knows exactly how to slice…
I have long wanted to write something about the Andalucian way of dressing. Not from a well-informed latest fashion point of view, but more from an anthropological, popular culture, street-watching kind of viewpoint. In other words deeply subjective, possibly stereotyping, certainly not in the least bit scientific. For someone who spent years on the Canadian…