We were neighbours of the editor and his family in the UK, until they suddenly decided to up sticks, sell their business and move to a disused goats’ shed in the wild undeveloped part of Spain. “They must be mad” we thought, but we stayed in touch to see what happened.
Once Phase 1 was complete, we were invited to visit and see the results. We flew into Malaga, picked up our hire car and preceded into the rush hour traffic. With confusing signs, slip roads that suddenly ended or pushed you off where you did not want to go, drivers who do not want to give way to foreign timid idiots and driving on the “wrong” side of the road in a strange car – it was an “interesting” experience to say the least.
We made it through Malaga without hitting anybody and onto the motorway which then ended at Nerja. The only problem being the apparent lack of service areas or means of having a rest to recuperate. After Nerja we had to resort to the old coast road with its bends and no barriers beside us to the rocks just below. Up hills there were two lanes, but we were taken by surprise by having to filter into the fast lane at the top – not a task for the nervous. I also had to desperately find the light switch for the tunnels.
We reached Castell de Ferro at dusk, and Simon met us at the petrol station. It was lucky it was dark, or I may not have been brave enough to follow him along a narrow concrete road and into a dust bowl (Ramblas). When we arrived there was a power cut, and the property looked quite romantic when lit by candles. We were given a lovely meal and shown into a luxuriously appointed “goats shed”. During the week we were shown the typical Spanish village of Castell, the joys of Al Campo, and taken on a nerve-wracking trip up the mountains to Rubite where at one point a narrow road ran along a ridge with steep drops on both sides.
Since then we have made several visits. On one occasion we travelled from Almeria, and on the night before we had to get our early flight, we had a violent thunderstorm. I had visions of us floating down the Ramblas, but we made it to the coast road safely, only to be held up on the motorway at El Ejido for 1 ½ hours as they cleared up the storm debris. We made the airport with half an hour to spare, dumped the car in the torrential rain, dashed to the check in desk and made the flight by the skin of our teeth.
We visited again last July, and it is fascinating how things have progressed, both with our friends and the area in general. As the motorways approach from both Malaga and Granada, the area seems to be refurbishing itself for increased business. Castell now has palm trees and a new town hall. There seems to be mass construction, although some projects seem to be frozen in time! My hope is that the extra visitors do not turn you into another Benidorm. Simon & Lisa have shown us the true Spain and have tried to adopt Spanish language and customs as much as possible. Their daughter even speaks with an Andalusian accent. I have learned that “thank you” is not Grass-c-ar** and to enjoy the local food rather than beef burgers. It is strange how there seems to be a bar at the end of even the steepest, narrowest track. They seem to have found a place in the community and are determined to make it more widely known. I think the Spanish appreciate this.
Well done.
Robin & Pauline Comley
