A decade in Spain. Well, where did that go? It only seems like yesterday that I was nervously giving the airport taxi driver my new address in Madrid, using French pronunciation that stumped us both for a short while.
In the 10 years since I’ve managed to move on from “una cerveza por favor” all the way through to swearing at footballers and (nearly) mastering the subjunctive. It’s been quite the journey. And I’ve learned much more besides about this wonderful country and its people.
It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that when I first came to Madrid – for an interview in July 2012 – I didn’t really have much of an idea of where it was. In Spain, and not on the coast, but not a lot more than that. (I did know where Spain was.)
We had made a decision to move overseas – somewhere, almost anywhere – as a cultural and educational experience for the family. Among those cities previously considered, but that didn’t come off, were Munich, Helsinki and Delhi. We weren’t really that fussy.
But we got super lucky, as a Spaniard speaking English might say. Madrid, about which more another time, was the perfect destination for us for many reasons. Happily it turned out the capital was right in the middle of the country!! And that gave us the opportunity to explore all four points of the compass.
It takes a bit of work to discover Spain. It is not to be found on a sun lounger on the Costa Brava or wondering the Barrío Gotíco – although, Lord knows both are reason enough for visiting. When we arrived, we didn’t even know what we didn’t know.
The north looks like New Zealand or Cornwall or Brittany, and has the country's best beaches in Galicia, and so what if the water's a little colder than it is in Alicante. The south east looks enough like the old west that the spaghetti westerns were made there. The Basques speak a language that looks like it belongs in a fantasy novel. Beautiful, wild Teruel is so remote and unknown that its tourist board once marketed it with the slogan Teruel Existe. And on the southern coast the shadow of Africa looms as a reminder of a rich and diverse history fashioned by geography.
Fall asleep on a beach in Formentera and you could wake up believing you were in the Caribbean, or Italy, such is the volume of tourists seeking the western Sardinia. Take a siesta in a village in Castilla La Mancha and you're right back in the 18th Century.
Don Quixote’s windmills can still be seen on the plains close to Toledo, and the most wondrous Roman ruins in Merida, Segovia, Tarragona... There is skiing within an hour of Madrid, and in the south within an hour of the beach and the best and friendliest resort I’ve ever visited at Baqueira in the Pyrenees. And some of the worst football I've ever seen is played in the best atmosphere I've ever experienced just a few kilometres from here. And I wouldn't miss it for the world.
La Rioja in the autumn, when the harvest is coming in and the vines burnished in shades of red, brown and yellow, feels like the most beautiful and bountiful place on earth. Although for drama it cannot beat Ribeira Sacra (left) where the vineyards defy gravity, clinging on to the steep canyons.
Ronda is extraordinary, Córdoba even more so and Cadíz is bursting with history and grandeur. Cáceres might be the best preserved medieval City in a country packed with them, and also a marvellous place for a sundowner in the Plaza Mayor. And Sevilla apparently might be the best of all, but I’ve not made it there yet.
The Alhambra is majestic, El Escorial imposing, La Mezquita simply spell-binding. My favourite Cathedral is in Toledo, but everybody says this is only because we didn’t have time to go into the one in León. Burgos, a place that far too many people drive by – including us for many years – also has a Cathedral worthy of the diversion. It’s almost enough to turn one to religion.
In Bilbao the Guggenheim shines with the optimism and modernity it has brought to help renew a great City. In Madrid, a young capital by European standards, the nation’s cultural heritage and history lines the walls of the Prado, from where Las Meninas calls like a siren. And in Barcelona, you could probably visit La Sagrada Familia weekly for years and discover a new view on each occasion.
And for me there is always joy at being on the open road. Spain is a land of vast and empty landscapes, of light and shadows and there is something new to be found at every exit. We’ve been exploring for 10 years, and need another ten at least. And more still for Portugal.
Exploring has been wonderful, stopping just as good. There’s nothing better than taking tapas on the Calle Laurel in Logroño, unless it’s eating oysters in Vigo, navajas in Asturias or cochinillo in Segovia. Or take a beer with the ghost of Hemingway in Pamplona's Café Iruña.
Your jamón should be from Extremadura, cherries in season too - oh my goodness, the cherries - wonderful olive oil from Jaén and beef from Ávila and Salamanca. And calamari sandwiches in Madrid? Perhaps that is one for the locals. There are too many memorable meals to mention, but I’m not sure we’ll ever beat the time we came across two men roasting whole fish on barbecues fashioned from oil drums outside a roadside shack on the coast north of Santander. Better tasting or fresher fish, I’ve never eaten.
And of course the vineyards are not just for show. Spain produces the best value wine in the world, and there’s probably nowhere in the world you can get a better bottle for under €8, and for €30 something really outstanding. I have developed a preference for reds from Ribera del Duero and whites from Ribera Sacra, but really, you cannot go wrong. Early on in our tenure here I did an experiment to see exactly how low you could go and the wine still be drinkable. It’s about €3, although the €1.50 rosé from the corner shop in Cangas was useful for cleaning the barbecue.
And Spaniards are very gregarious so there’s always a good opportunity to take a copa or a gin and tonic (which is taken very seriously). And no better people to have it with. All we have found since we came to Spain is kindness and generosity. There’s a healthy outlook on life here. People are more relaxed than their northern neighbours, live longer and seem happier. And why not? The sun almost never stops shining, and it is the land of plenty. The “relaxedness” shouldn’t be mistaken for idleness though, as it too often is. Spaniards are as industrious and efficient as any other Europeans, in my experience, they just choose not to let it interfere with life as much as the rest of us. And more power to them for that.
So to all of them and everyone else who has made our time here so enjoyable - and in particular to the four of you who came with me: Muchísimas Gracias.
And for those of you who'd like to pay us a visit: there's plenty of room at the inn, but time may be running out...