Moving to Spain

Goodbye England. Moving to Spain began in mid-June 2012, when I left for my new life in Andalucía on the overnight ferry from Portsmouth to Dieppe, with Florence, my car, pulling a trailer containing my worldly goods. Needless to say, it was raining when I departed.

Packed to the Gunnels

I felt a little like Del Boy. The car was packed to the gunnels, so I couldn't see out of the rear window, and I'm sure the trailer was overloaded too.

My son is in the logistics industry, so he arranged for two pallets to be delivered to me. The only piece of furniture I brought with me was a wine rack, which now makes me wonder what my stuff consisted of.

Ambling Through France

I ambled through France, staying with Manu in Limoges, Tracy and Colin in the Limousin, and Suzze and Henry in the Tarn. Then, ten days after leaving England, I was in my new country. The temperature was 38°C.

Cherries in Castillo de Locubín

I arrived just in time for the cherry festival in Castillo de Locubín. Viva cherries, I love them.

The First Meal in the New Kitchen

The first thing I cooked in my new kitchen was Linguine Vongole, in a Le Creuset frying pan that had been temporarily lost, packed in a box since a previous move in 2008.

Not a bad way to start a new life. If you want to know what came next, My Andaluz patio: The beginning picks up the story at the house.

If this made you smile, you can buy me a coffee ☕ on Ko-fi.

More stories from village life are in Life at Casa Adora: Stories from Rural Andalucía.
Wonky photos, proper food, genuine adventures – The Flexible Chef