Start of Olive Harvest 2020

Manzanilla Olives

We have moved up in the world of olive farming. In 2017 we started with a few donated bucket and crates, borrowed ladders and our trusty Toyota to convey our small harvest to the Co-Op in Almonte. We only managed to pick about 2-3 buckets a day, which is 40-60 kilograms, sometimes even less, because the olive trees were so bad; too high to reach, too overgrown to produce much fruit and too diseased, full of dead wood.

Three years later we have four people engaged to help picking, we have a jeep and trailer and a proper crate to transport our bounty to the agent, who collects the olives for the factory in Sevilla.

Thanks to our contractor, Antonio Sanchez, who also acts unofficially as our agricultural advisor, our olive trees look much healthier, greener and fuller. The constant pruning that Nigel does all year round is essential to achieve a good balance between too many or too few branches. We still have a long way to go when it comes to shaping and selecting the right branches to keep. And of course it takes time to let fresh regrowth mature to carry fruit.

This year we started harvesting on Wednesday, 9th of September with 2 Spanish workers and Steffi, our all-round talented neighbour. The following Monday, 14th of September, another Spanish worker joined us and now we are 6 persons picking olives every day.

This is necessary, as the sooner the olives are picked the more money we get. The longer they stay on the tree, the lower is their value as they will mature and turn black and our return on them sinks to 20 cent per kilo as opposed to 75 cent per kilo when they are green.

We are lucky in so far that we have bought an olive farm and not a vineyard. Because of the impact of the virus measures being taken to protect the population through restricting gatherings of people and cancellation of festivals the wine consumption is down 40%.  Thus the price of grapes has nose-dived. In our region here grapes are being left on the vine, as it just does not pay to even harvest them.

Luckily, olives still seem to be a staple on every table and the price is good this year because the lack of rain, again, means less tonnage is being brought in.

On Friday, 18 September 2020 we had our first rain since the end of May with heavy downpours and stormy conditions. The day before I planted out my second batch of tomatoes this year, hoping to get some fruit, as the days are still hot well into October and November, we will see if it works. I also have four young courgette plants in the garden.

Hail the Archeress

armed and dangerous

After a hiatus of seven years I have finally dug out my flat bow and home-made arrows again. They are a sorry sight, maimed and broken most of them. But I have set up a target, a dart board, under an olive tree and surprisingly even manage to hit it, now and then. It’s a great, powerful feeling to release an arrow in absolute silence and see it fly, powered by simple force of resistance and leverage.  I always have enjoyed this ancient craft of instinctive, traditional archery as it requires concentration and skill. Not for me the various implements like cords and pulleys, bow sights, cams and cables on a compound bow that measure the distance and set the exact force to hit home the arrow. In Ireland I had joined a mad-hatters club of archers in County Longford, the Warriors of Queen Maeve, which were more about the roaming of woods and cracking jokes than the seriousness of notching up points to be the best archer of them all. The attraction was the constant changing of targets, rubber animal shapes in all sizes, from a rat to a standing bear set up in various distances from the shooting positions in the wood, which resulted in contortions, kneeling, crouching, and sideways bending to get a clear view of the target through the trees and undergrowth, sometimes even climbing up on a fallen tree trunk or a platform to shoot up or down hills and valleys. To hit your target was real luck, or skill, or mostly a combination of both, just great fun to challenge yourself not to lose or break the arrow in the process, hence my only four remaining arrows.

So I will have to repair, maybe make some more arrows and practice, practice, practice until I can move up to my stronger bow and execute some serious archery.

Compost Toilet

blue window

We are advertising our finca for campers on various sites like pitch-up and areasauto-caravanas.com for people that like a quiet, rural place far from crowds and noise. Occasionally we do get somebody. Since we are not a dedicated camping site and do this only on a trial basis we do not have any services as yet.

In August a huge campervan drove up with seven people, three generations. They were the rather tiny granny and her grandchildren of 18 months and six years; also her three children, two sons and a daughter with her husband. Did you count? They all shared happily this one space, only Spanish are so family-loving. They had all they needed in this campervan and we only supplied water and two hours of generator connection. We don’t really earn anything out of it, it’s the novelty and giving people a choice, when in the high season all camping sites are stuffed full of holiday makers.

Another day one Renault arrived with four French lads and their tents. These were three brothers and a friend, they were really nice and we prepared breakfast for them. They also needed a shower and toilet, which was fine, as we had no guests in the downstairs bedroom. With the Covid-19 drama ongoing we cannot have guests, strangers, sharing a bathroom.

When we had Dodi and his tent here for a week, he definitely needed access to a bathroom, which was not possible when we had guests in the house.

Therefore I set upon Nigel with much nagging to build a compost toilet. And so he did, within four days he had constructed a solid building which will withstand any storm. Then the olive harvest started and we (or rather Nigel) have not got around to adding a roof, a proper door and a nice tiled floor, but it will happen.

I am all in favour of a dry toilet, which is by no means a new and radical thing. Compost toilets have been around for donkey’s years but nobody seems to want to invite them into their homes. I have come across them first in the 1990s in the Health Food Store in Berlin I worked. They sold upmarket types for garden sheds and holiday homes. In Ireland I used one in a converted outbuilding on a farm. Also German friends of ours that bought a finca have built a simple one and use it every time they are in the country, until they have modernised the house. A perfect solution for water preservation, no fussy plumbing required, and it provides the garden with manure. There is no smell, as liquids are soaked up by a layer of sawdust. They resulting human manure has to be composted for at least a year to be used in the garden. If you don’t believe me please read for yourself ‘The Humanure Handbook’ from Joseph Jenkins, available from Amazon or separate chapters are free to download.

The Egg Trick

Hens are clever; they hide their eggs in plain sight. We recently found a clutch of 19 eggs, right beside the door to the hen house, under the rose bush. We should have known because previously they hid the eggs around the corner in the rose bush. So without a date on the eggs, how would we know how old they were and if they were still ok to eat? It’s easy. Just put the eggs into a bowl of water and the fresh ones will stay below, see the egg marked ‘new egg’ in the photo, the old ones will float as the gases inside the shell develop. With the floating eggs I made a nice ‘dogs dinner’ scrambled egg. They were all good bar one that smelled like rotten eggs smell. The dogs anyway were delighted about their nice dinner.

LOVE & HATE August 2020

6 Nations in one House

The world we live in is divided, and always will be, by nature.

Between the hunters and the hunted, the perpetrators and the victims, people that love Brussels sprouts (I do) and ones that hate them. Some people prefer dogs over cats, or vise versa.

The divisions exist mostly in our brains, through judgments.

We are at present divided by fear and confusion. Fear against a virus, that is part of the ‘flu and cold viruses, but behaves differently, seemingly unpredictable, because we haven’t had time and experience to suss it out yet.

We are unsure whether mask wearing is life saving or nonsense, at least I am, because different so-called experts give diametrically opposed answers.

Our collective governments chose to restrict the most basic of human needs, to socialise, meet our families, carry out our hobbies (singing, playing wind instruments, mens’sheds, dancing) that help our mental well-being, all in the name of trying to save us from a virus, that to date has officially killed just about 0.026 per cent of the world population.

Conspiracy theories don’t help with feeling calm, all of it adds up to feeling completely controlled, by the virus and the governmental restrictions, and at the same time not feeling in control of our life at all.

However, here we are receiving guests.

August has been a very busy months, thankfully, making up for the 4 months of solitude. We had even non-Spanish visitors, from France, Brasil, Holland, Ireland (although living in La Linea) and Portugal. One day we were six nations assembled: 

Irish, German, Colombian, Moroccan, Bulgarian, Spanish.

Of course, we both are already two and then four guests make up six.

Guests either love it here, and 90% do, or they hate it.

There is a kind of person that should not be here, should not book here; mainly city-dwellers that need to be right there where the action is and other people; where everything is in walking distance, bars, cafes, restaurants, parks, entertainment. Some people hate to drive over the dusty, bumpy road with their beloved car and yes, the Spanish like to keep their cars shiny and clean.

Most people like a bargain; I do, but read no further than the price and end up here, en el campo.

We had a run of the friendliest people that gave us 10 point reviews on Booking.com but also a few flops, people that were unhappy and gave us bad reviews.

One couple arrived in the afternoon, their faces already not as bright as could be, saw the room and ask if there is a terrace, which I showed them and also the other bedroom upstairs. They favoured it as opposed to the high-quality sofa bed downstairs. Unfortunately it was only available for two nights, not the three nights they had booked. They proceeded to lie down for a rest and after an hour went out, never to be seen again.

An hour later I received the cancellation on my handy. Right, well, I feel it was a bit childish to walk away like that instead of trying to sort something out. I could have given the other room for two nights and then returned the money for the third night. I now get to keep the payment for three days, but they gave us a bad review. It seems to be a recurring theme that the Spanish are too proud to admit they made a mistake and have to find reasons why our place is unacceptable to them.

Another time the guests arrived also in the afternoon, he got out of the car, was shown the room, changed his clothes and drove away. He returned some time later, had a shower and left, again, never to be seen again. His girlfriend didn’t even get out of the car. He also left a bad review, he didn’t even stay overnight. He was not treated any different and everything was the same as for any other guest.

You can’t please everyone, certainly not when the expectations are different from reality.

We go out of our way to please our guests, make up dinners or lunches at the drop of a hat, breakfasts at 7.00am, will accommodate early or late arrivals and Nigel provides most of the entertainment, coaxing Spanish to speak English and most oblige and even get to enjoy practising a long forgotten foreign language.

And then…. there came a knock on our front door on Sunday noon. We did not expect anybody; our last guests were just ready to leave. Upon opening the door I saw two casually dressed men, shorts, sunglasses, t-shirts and a Toyota car. And then they identified themselves as the local police and told me there was a ‘denuncia’, we have been reported. I think our guests were more in shock than we were, because I am duly licenced and have an accountant to show i am willing to pay tax, if I had enough income. So I proceeded to copy the requested documentation and they informed me I had to take details of every guests ID, passport or similar. I was actually waiting for somebody official to tell me what I needed to do. Obviously it is up to the entrepreneur to obtain this information for themselves.  That is what I fell down on and my excuse was that Booking.com keeps all that info. Anyway, they said they would email me a program, so I can easily input all the required information, and so I wait…  In the meantime I am of course complying, so they won’t pull me up a second time, as they promised to be back.

I first suspected a couple of guests that booked for three days, but disappeared after an hour’s rest without a word and subsequently cancelled the booking.  I got in touch with them and they swore it wasn’t them. So who objects to our little business we will probably never know.

Emil

And then there was Emil (not his real name) from Holland, that arrived here with his tent and not much more than stories to his name. With thirty-five years of age, his mother pulled the purse strings because he had lost his passport so many times, that the police thought he sold it off. There is a reason of course for his misfortunes. At fifteen he had a bad car accident which left him in a coma for a week and since then he has trouble focusing, remembering and concentrating. Anytime he needs some funds, he calls his mum to explain how much, what for and she would transfer some to his account.

He, or rather his mother, booked for one night and he stayed six.

We felt sorry for him and brought him along to the beach and to a night out in El Rocio, together with another guest. On her last night, we had a little sun-downer on the upper terrace, Gin&Tonics, music and some Aniseed liquor, Emil’s favourite. He fell for her hook, line and sinker, but she had to return to her friends and job in Malaga.

Guapa & Ingles

We have added to our menagerie of hens, cats and dogs and now have permanently also two horses on loan from Sandrine, the owner of Doñana Horse Adventure. Ingles came first, he is 24 years old and retired. When our neighbours horses were still around, he was happy having the odd chat with them. But they went home, having eaten everything available, and so he went in search of company, jumping the fence and breaking a few posts in the process. To alleviate his loneliness Sandrine brought along Guapo, a white temperamental seven-year old. Now they are happy together, although Guapo is a little bully, trying to get his fair share of oats and more.

Isla Cristina, Huelva FISHING PORT

The harbour on Isla Cristina, just after Huelva town, is one of the most important fishing ports in Spain, so a guest told us. So we went to visit some Saturday evening. It took us one hour to get there. Isla Cristina is also one of the summer hotspots for life on the beach with numerous holiday apartments, hotels and holiday homes.

Here we see the gritty, dirty side of the sea, although in the evening all is quiet, the fishermen still resting from the early morning return with their big catches, which are being sold in the market hall and now in the many restaurants scattered throughout the town.

We select a quiet restaurant, Bar Escobalin (you can download their menu) directly at the harbour which sits relatively forlorn on Calle Muelle Marina, where the working boats are anchored. At half past eight we are, as usual, too early and have to go for another little stroll to watch the crabs slowly walking sideways away from the incoming tide.

At nine o’clock the owner proceeds to take out more tables and chairs and the small restaurant grows into a rather large affair, it seems it is a well-known place to eat away from the restaurants opposite the Lonja de Isla Cristina, the seafood market, where you find later on the crowds eating the fish and seafood caught in the night.

In fact, this seafood market functions like an auction house, where all the fish is coming along a conveyor belt and is being sold off to the traders and restaurants. It opens at 3.30am and sells its wares until 8pm.

Here is a video clip from facebook, which makes dead fish seem sexy https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=925781284180693

Of course the Gamba Blanca de Huelva are famous all over Spain and command a price, depending on their size, from €25/kilo to up 125€/kg.

And ordering a small dish of Huelva gambas in garlic and olive oil in a restaurant will set you back around €14.00.

We ate well for €32.00 with two tapas as starters and two racíon medio and one plato, a good slice of pez espada, swordfish. Yes, we were hungry and enjoyed our night out, because with so many guests we seldom have time to go out in the evenings.

The Madness continues…

I have been busy at the sewing machine as the wearing of face masks is here to stay and I hate disposable anything. Too much throw-away items like gloves, masks, bags, wipes, paper towels and gowns are being used to combat the spread of this ominous corona virus.

I looked on YouTube to find a good tutorial for a comfortable face mask [ see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fySsaOojEVM or http://www.fabricpatch.net/face-masks-for-covid-19-relief.htm with full instructions, excellent] and have now made four. Another two will go to Ireland to my kids. I am taking orders ;0)

Food Worries

(or rather shape shame)

I am in trouble, again. Not in the criminal sense but in the food way. Since my teens I have been interested in and looking for information on healthy eating and slowly developed my own way of cooking and creating dishes that are based on lots of vegetables. I don’t have a sweet tooth, so sweets, chocolate, deserts and unfortunately fruit don’t feature in my diet a lot.

The other important part I believed in is whole wheat and sour dough breads. I am aware that white sugar and white flour are bad for you and should be minimised. However, now that I am gluten-intolerant I have to cut out the wholemeal and am left with the gluten free white, starchy alternatives like maize, rice and potato starch. They don’t fill me up since the gluten is a hard to digest part and makes you feel full.

I have now mastered to bake nice, fluffy toast bread with egg, sesame, poppy, sunflower and pumpkin seeds. I have also baked lovely gluten-free muffins, cakes and cookies.

Only now to realise that, as I had the suspicion, these starchy baked goods will play havoc with my midriff. Yes, it’s the dreaded spare tire. And it won’t budge, even though I have embarked on a strenuous daily 45-minutes dance-fitness routine and all my legs and arms are strong and toned and my heart gets a good work out too. I have done this now six weeks. It’s great fun and makes me feel – every muscle in my body.

I have never been on a diet as I eat healthy enough and my weight has been stable. I did some fasting when younger, and would prefer this as a renewal and clean-out.

But the bulge has to go!! This means to avoid the majority of all cereals, starches and carbohydrates; which brings me to the Keto-diet. I have read up on it and dismissed it at first. It would mean eating a lot of protein, so more meat and cheese and milk products. Now, I am also lactose-intolerant and cream and butter is a pure terror on my digestion. So I am pretty much limited if I also want to be more vegetarian then not.

I needed to do a lot more research on this one and maybe adjust my attitude. Here is where I looked:

http://www.eatingwell.com/article/291245/complete-keto-diet-food-list-what-you-can-and-cannot-eat-if-youre-on-a-ketogenic-diet/

This is the blurb:

‘The ketogenic diet is a high-fat, moderate-protein and very low-carbohydrate diet. Carbohydrates are the body’s preferred source of energy, but on a strict ketogenic diet, less than 5 percent of energy intake is from carbohydrates. The reduction of carbohydrates puts the body into a metabolic state called ketosis. Ketosis is when the body starts breaking down stored fat into molecules called ketone bodies to use for energy, in the absence of circulating blood sugar from food. Once the body reaches ketosis, most cells will use ketone bodies to generate energy until you start eating carbohydrates again.’

Thank goodness for our hens which produce wholesome eggs every day. At least here is something I can eat without guilt or pain. I also rather like feta cheese (and other cheeses), Greek yoghurt, avocado, fish, chicken or turkey, nuts and seeds. Dark chocolate, tea and coffee are allowed for some reason, of course unsweetened and only berries when it comes to fruit. Luckily courgettes or zucchini features heavily as a vegetable and at the moment I have so much that they get pickled, frozen and turned into chutney.

Keto means no baked goods or even muesli, no honey or juices, no starchy, sweet fruit like bananas, apples, canned fruit. No potatoes, not even sweet potato or rice. This is tough, I don’t think this is for me since I don’t suffer from a disease and am not overweight and also this disclaimer worries me a bit: “Like most highly restrictive diets, it is difficult to meet nutritional needs while doing keto,” says Stone. “It often comes with uncomfortable side effects like constipation and the ‘keto flu.’ Also, the long-term health consequences are not well understood.”

 There are also side-effects like bad breath. So I will take the middle road by cutting out most carbs and see what happens. We are now into the hot summer, with temperatures of over 30 degrees Celsius, so naturally we won’t be eating the starchy comfort food popular in Germany and Ireland. A smoothy or salad for lunch will do nicely, and for dinner it will be even more veg, meat or fish and some carbs for Nigel, as he burns a lot more calories per day and needs them.

Here is another website with common sense approach to lose that belly fat and this seems to make a lot more sense: https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/20-tips-to-lose-belly-fat#The-bottom-line .

The recommendations include a 24-hour fast once a week, which has always been a great way to boost the body’s defense system, clear out the intestines and give the tummy a rest,  clear the fog in the mind. Most religions have fasting in-build into their believe system, like Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Taoism, Jainism, and Hinduism. Go to https://www.telegraph.co.uk/lifestyle/11524808/The-history-of-fasting.html to get a rundown of the history and benefits of fasting.

Now, this is a real challenge. Because I love harvesting delicious fresh produce from the garden, I love cooking and eating I am not sure if I have the willpower to do without those pleasurable things…..

End of May – full on summer

            I had my first success with carrots, which is funny as I had given up on growing carrots. I actually only threw the remaining carrot seeds from last year’s debacle together with the chamomile seeds into one half of our high growing container, thinking that as the chamomile grows up the carrots grow down and also this companion planting will deter the carrot fly. Lo and behold, the carrots actually grew!

We actually had one guest in May, a Spanish single traveler that got stuck in Huelva during the quarantine and stayed with us for one week. Angel was very kind, he brought back food for the dogs and cats and introduced us to typical Andalusian dishes, including snails, caracoles. They are seasonal and are collected in the vineyards (or gardens). We ate them, Nigel liked them , I only ate them as revenge for their cousins eating my plants, but won’t repeat the experience.

First day allowed in the water

            Andalucia has now entered phase two of the de-escalation, as the government calls it here, and we are finally allowed into the water and not just looking at it. We only go in the late afternoon, as the heat is dangerous, it is over 34 degrees Celsius.

Early summer in February

dav

Fresh grass in Vila Nova

We had some time on our hands, a few days with no guests booked and decided to go on our second trip to Vila Nova de Milfontes on the Portuguese West coast to collect our new lawn. This time it was gorgeously sunny and warm. The hotel HS Milfontes Beach, Duna Parque hotel Group, sits right at the beach with a breathtaking view from the restaurant. In the winter it hosts Olympic rowing athletes from Russia, Poland, France, Germany and other countries training for the next competitions.

We booked the ‘Romantic Break’ just after Valentine’s day and so were greeted by a chilled bottle of bubbly and towels shaped into swans with lots of red hearts dotted everywhere. The price was a steal for €82 for one night including dinner buffet and breakfast buffet.

Because we had traveled with jeep and trailer and not stopped on the way we were hungry and made the most of the buffet, so much so that bed was the only option after eating our way through all that was on offer and since they were used to hungry young sportsmen and ~women there was plenty of good food: freshly baked pizzas, sushi made on-site, salads, fish and meats cooked to your liking and anything else.

The breakfast buffet was good and I had per-ordered gluten-free bread which came with two gluten-free muffins.

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We had a stroll through the charming cobble-paved streets and drove up to the other side of the river Rio Mira before collecting our tonne of freshly cut and rolled up lawn. Camposol does not only grow grass/turf for football pitches, golf courses and amenity sites, it also grows root vegetables for the Spanish and French market.

On our way home we were stopped to let about a thousand racing cyclists pass, also from all over Europe.

News from the Garden

We have a few newbies, apart from another fountain at the front we purchased a set of garden furniture on-line through Mano-Mano. The set includes 6 pieces and came in boxes. Unlabelled. The instructions author should take a leaf from the Ikea book, but  I put them together eventually.

Nigel has fulfilled his dream to do away with the plain brown tiles around the base of the house and replaced them with decorative tiles.

Our garden, which has lovely fresh peas, leeks and cabbage available at the moment (in February!) is being extended into the old potato plot. We installed a fiberglass container as a Hochbeet (high plot), filled it with layers of twigs, home-made compost and soil and it has now chamomile, carrots, beans and maize coming on. The carrots and chamomile were direct sown and covered with fleece, which speeded up germination and the maize and beans were raised in my little hotframe.

This must have been the hottest February on record. We had 24 degrees on at least 3 days and the beach and restaurants in Matalascañas were packed on the Sunday.

Out the Window…..

On the second last day of February we had our brush with a suspected case of corona virus.

A mother and daughter had booked to stay for 3 nights and on arrival the mother felt really ill and went to the local health center. She received antibiotics and was told it was just an infection. In reality there are no testing kits for the Covid-19 virus available, so nobody knows what she had. Her symptoms were headaches, fever, lethargy, no appetite while her daughter was coughing across the table. We took it upon ourselves to entertain her 8-year old daughter, who was full of energy, loved our cat Jack, enjoyed the hammock, and played cards with us and with the soap bubbles for a while.

Unfortunately we had a full house and the guests downstairs overheard the conversation and slipped out the back window in the morning to avoid contact with the sick lady.

They did however explain themselves to Nigel, when he was out feeding the hens. This lady had asthma and so was alarmed and afraid to contract the virus. They still loved it here and promised to be back.

In the meantime I proceeded to contact the as-yet-to-arrive guests, what I thought was my duty under the circumstances, as the sick guest worked at the Madrid Airport and we received one cancellation. At this stage we weren’t feeling too well ourselves with a tension headache. I proceeded to close all our rooms for three days, just in case.

In the end the sick lady decided it was best to return home, even though it meant to drive to Sevilla, return the hired car and take the train to Madrid, meanwhile spreading whatever made her sick.

Today we feel better and are much relieved to have a full house of healthy guests…

 Out the window, the second

As you are not allowed to smoke in the rooms, the guests in our downstairs bedroom seem to make a habit out of opening the tall window and stepping outside to smoke, leaving their stubs behind.

As for the other st of guests, which also smoked and booked for two, arrived with three (bringing the teenage daughter also), and then complained the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and stating that there were clearly three windows and no bars, they gave us a 6.3 score.

I feel like commenting in my reply to their review, if you want bars go to prison…

 

Traslado del Virgen continued – The Outfall

On one of our exploration evening drives we took the route that the pilgrims take from El Rocio to Almonte out of pure curiosity. It is hard to believe that a throng of people marched this camino in the middle of the night, with no lighting and through pine woods and pure sand, carrying a statue as if that wasn’t hard enough. There are Stations of the Cross, decorated arches along the whole way but also an enormous amount of litter. It is an utter shame to see plastic bottles strewn all over the camino and blown into the forest even after a week passed. Obviously religious fervour does not include taking responsibility for the environment. A wooden statue is celebrated like the famous golden calf, venerated and huge amount of tax payers money is spent on organising this event, for security, catering, decorations and what not. According to the online edition of Sevilla ABC news stated 1,4 million people took part, calculated by the amount of cars parked in the specially opened spaces, the amount of water bottles sold, buses used and toilets flushed. And again, Mother Earth has to suffer even as a Virgin is carried on hands…

Eclectic mix of guests

Most weekends we are completely booked out. We had a booking for the downstairs bedroom with private bathroom which turned out to be a gay couple when they finally came in the door. An hour previously they had phoned as they were lost, even though I always sent the location and a description how to get to us via Whatsapp to every guest. After trying to guide them here I finally handed the phone over to another guest, thinking that my bad Spanish might be the reason of their lostness. These boys needed devine guidance to get them to our place; they were near, yet so far and I handed the phone to the priest, who also stayed the night in our casa and luckily had returned just in time to save the lost sheep. These gentlemen came with a sports Audi coupe and gave us one of the worst reviews, a   3.5 out of 10. All was wrong, obviously they would have been better off with a five-star hotel in the middle of town.

Other guesting gripes are phone bookings with the result that the people don’t turn up. I take phone bookings midweek to fill rooms but not at the weekends. This Saturday I had three bookings for one room, with one immediate cancellation and one no reply, which is rather rude, but eventually a booking came through via booking.com and we had all rooms full. It is a bit exasperating because each time I send a personalised whatsapp message with directions after saving the number into the mobile phone.

It is true, I do get blue, and sometimes I think of the green, lush fields of Ireland. The familiarity that 25 years of living on a relatively small island instills, the ease of conversing in a language which I picked up from primary school but only mastered after a few years of practical application in County Westmeath.

I thought a warm climate supports the growing of plants. Alas, the heat is just as bad as frost, both burns the leaves and shrivels up the poor things. Granted, it’s too hot for slugs but instead we have burrowing furry things attacking plants from underneath. They felled most of the aubergine plants. On the upside I am proud of the lovely kohlrabi and beetroot, these are yummy.

Now in the first week of September, it is time for autumn sowing, and more kohlrabi and beetroot, fennel, beans, peas, herbs, brussel sprouts and later salad are on the way. The hot soil temperature has seeds germinating within 2-4 days, but it is important to keep them shaded and moist or they’ll get burned.

Which they did. Now we are already well into October and temperatures reached above thirty degrees and killed off my lovely pea seedlings. Fennel, Brussel sprouts and Kohlrabi did not germinate at all but the beans are fairly happy, as long as they can enjoy some shade. So for next year the garden will definitely need to get proper shading   installed over all parts.

BERLIN

dav

We spent three nights in Berlin to visit my mum, who is now 95 years old. This time it was on my birthday so she got a lovely bunch of roses. Unfortunately and understandably she has slowed down a lot and a two hour visit is all she can take.

 

As a treat we watched the VIVID show in the Friedrich-Stadt-Palast. I always wanted to see this iconic building from the inside. I studied not far from there Agriculture Sciences at the Humboldt University. The Palace has kept his old style feel and art deco interior. It is supposed to be Europe’s biggest stage, in depth. The orchestra sits right at the back of the stage and we could glimpse it between the actors and dancers. It was a spectacular show with headgear designed by Philip Treacy, the Irish hat designer and custom-made music, dance and decorations for this place.

We also watched the winning runners of the Berlin Marathon pass us at the Fehrbelliner Platz, just around the corner, where my mother lives. The drizzly rain felt refreshing to us since we had no rain here in Almonte since April.

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Berlin Marathon

In the meantime we had our house angel Sara and her mother and sister mind our finca and look after our furry and feathery friends. They had a lovely weekend at the beach and we were all happy.

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Olive Season 2019

This year the olive harvest started already in the first week of September. This coincided with the wine harvest, so the area was a flurry of activity. The reason of the early date is the lack of water. The olives are starting to turn black and so need to be taken down as the green ones are used for eating at the table, not for oil. This year the yield is down by 50-60% so we don’t need help this year. We have finished the Manzanilla variety and are close to 2 t and Nigel has started on the pruning until we harvest the Verdial olives.