Spanish Shilling

I was in our local cemetery, where the foreigners at last lie in peace with their Spanish neighbours. Walking around slowly: looking out f...

The pavement - the bit pedestrians are meant to walk on - is full of trees, parked bikes, dustbins, contenadores , signs, street lights, low...

The day will come, if you go to bullfight-school, when you will be called upon to strut your stuff. It will be an expensive exercise, paying...

After months of drought, the rains have come to eastern Spain. The Gota Fría is the time when the heavens open and the streets flow with ...

I've just spent a week in house in the high hills of the north western part of Mallorca staying with some friends. The hills themselves ...

According to the Almeríapedia (yes, there is one), the Parque el Boticario just outside the City in La Cañada is 14 hectares in size, tha...

The plague of the prickly pear has not gone away, indeed, it has got worse. Whole swathes of inland Almería are covered with dead and dying ...

A new group has just appeared here in Mojácar, it's against excess noise. Here's its pitch:   'The Platform MOJACAR WITHOUT NOI...

We had arrived there by walking down a path in the darkness, ducking under trees ill-lit by our mobile phones, and along a riverbed as far...

Local writer Paco Haro presents his book this Saturday 16 August about the early foreigners who arrived in Mojácar between thirty and fifty ...

Senés is a pretty village in the interior of Almería. It's in fiesta this weekend, with its own version of the Moors and Christians. T...

'The history of the bullfight is intertwined with that of Spain, so much so, that if you don't know the first, it would be impossibl...

The ecologists were sat round a fire, trying to open a tin of beans with a corkscrew. 'The Hotel Algarrobico is Legal', shouted one...

An interesting piece of history here recalls the story of how the Germans bombarded the City of Almería on May 31st 1937. A squadron of Re...

Our boys at El Mundo write about those who profit from their labour... and then helpfully add a link to Facebook, Twitter and Meneame. ...

Ar the airport in Madrid, having got through immigration and customs at warp-speed, I galloped through the giant shop which takes up a serio...

I don’t even know if I feel much like writing at the moment, besides keeping the tradition alive of posting something – at least – o...

Mojácar was just another crumbling Andalucian village until the beginning of the sixties, when the mayor, Jacinto Alarcon, had the idea of...

There's an opinion held by Officialdom that we can read things better if we go letter-by-letter. Which explains why ambulances and the p...

The morning run with the dog. He's a Briard, a French sheep dog - looking, sans aucun doute , for a French sheep to herd about, park i...