Hola. Moved to Andalusia in January this year. The move itself is a story on its own; I moved to many countries but this one took 6 months. One of my English friends (nickname Tarzan) who is extremely cyber lazy responded recently on a January mail from me about us moving to Spain. Here my response:
“Wow Tarzan, that’s quick. How we are doing? Great, as we are living your lifestyle but than for half the price.
The 1st 3 months we camped on a golf course with only 1 restaurant at the corner.
150% family run. On Sunday lunch they packed 150 people in the place but in the evening the restaurant was the family living room. We were the only customers; the owner played the owner, his wife looked after daughter and little granddaughter, grandma overseeing it all knitting. On the TV was one of the corniest gameshows you have ever seen. Grandpa had fallen asleep in his chair, knacked from the excitement on the telly. At 21:00 hrs, grandma grabbed a dozen pills out of a drawer, woke up grandpa brought him a plate of prawns, put the pills on the edge of the plate and gave him a glass of cavas. Then he fell back asleep. In the meantime the waiter and the chef looked after us as if we belonged to the family: grandpa’s prawns, buttery Cornejo al ajillo, I don’t know what wine they gave us but it was brilliant and a yummy flan Catalan.
Yes, in July and August you can fry an egg on the tarmac of the A7 and most of the world’s overpopulation is lying on our beaches burning in the 35° sun. Women with more fat rolls then a Michelin man and men with triple beer bellies are looking like German bratwursts at the end of the day.
Luckily our neighbourhood is classed as a non-tourist area; mainly Spanish holiday makers. The residents of our apartment block are 95% Spanish, pleasant neighbours; but in the vacaciones their relations come from all corners of Spain, some even from Northern Africa. They are crowding MY neighbourhood, beaches and restaurants.
Spanish make their own traffic and parking rules; during the 6 hot weeks cars are dumped anywhere in our gate locked car park ; double parked on the pavements, lawns and if they could in hallways. There is a queue outside the gate all night. The only vehicle I bought is a bike, so no parking headache for me. Mine is safer than Fort Knox.
Anyhow, driving is a survival challenge; sometimes I borrow a car and I have to adapt all my Paris driving tricks to get to my destinations alive and on time. Luckily the visitors go home mid-august and we have the area back to ourselves.
Yes, you see I feel at home very much and have claimed my stake already.
I might run for alcalde (mayor) soon.
In the summer night temperatures only lower to a cuddly 24 and shoot up to a cooking 37 in the afternoon; there is the odd “cold” day with 28 when an Atlantic breeze makes it over the sierras. I am surviving however staying 6 hours a day in the pool or sea makes your skin look like 10 jelly fishes attacked at the same time.
For the rest Spanish life does to us what we hoped for; very affordable and delicious food. Waiters are naturally unfriendly until you treated them as a long lost amigo. Jesus, (his real name) the owner, chef and waiter of our favourite Tapas place (4 tables only) is a culinary despot; don’t try to touch his food with pepper, salt or even worse, ask for ketchup or mayo. You will be shot on the spot. 
Julia must have shown you all the 25 pictures on FB of me with a G&T; the same gin measurement as her killer cocktails.
Great to see Spanish families not to celebrate kids birthdays at Mc Donald’s but in the BBQ Park.
Other family dues are held late night at the beach carrying half the home kitchen and a massive karaoke sound set. Nanna and Granddad are having a special chair (gives me hope)
You’re getting annoyed about the Brexit palaver? I always said Brexit would not change a lot but a few May blunders and the endless discussions might make the EU divorce longer and very expensive.
But honestly, I don’t care a Spanish horse sh..t anymore.
This lovely country has its own problems as the Catalans had enough. And if a king reacts like old Franco it does not improve the dialogue. But I am sure they will work it out and my long life friend from Barcelona voted pro-independence but in the end he only wanted to give Madrid a “warning”.
Hopefully Spain will remain UNITED otherwise the Basks will wake up and honestly I think that even Andalusia also could survive on its own touristic budget. But I want it to stay as it is: relaxed, lazy, easy, traditional and proud. Interview 3 Spanish people in the street: 1 claps his hands, the 2nd can sing and the 3rd plays a guitar. Magic.
Ah, too early for a G&T but I see the British expats (always moaning) already on a coffee&brandy for €3,50.
Hasta Luego, Theodoro”
PS: The other day I had lunch with a horse.
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