I’ve always had a thing about mountains. As a child, we spent a week in the Highlands of Scotland every summer. Idyllic memories of rambling over heather-covered moors, clambering up massive grey lichen-kissed boulders, splashing about in ice-cold burns (streams),…
A few weeks ago, I reached an important milestone – both in my life, and in my time lived in Spain: it’s 10 years since I arrived here in Seville. Back in September 2003 I came to this beautiful city…
My children with their flag, fan and pennant in the regional verde y blanco to celebrate Dia de Andalucia, 28 February. My daughter is proudly showing off her mixed heritage. Children here in Andalucia are inculcated with a strong sense…
The Alcazar, Seville’s Mudejar delight: a perfect example of the synthesis between Spanish kings and Moorish craftsmen. What defines a city? What is that essence which gives it an identity all of its own – the strange, arcane customs? The architectural…
Andalucians have a sense of local loyalty like noone I’ve ever encountered. They are fiercely proud of their Andalucian-ness, with famous cultural markers such as Moorish architecture, flamenco, bullfighting and Lorca inspiring the kind of adoration that borders on obsession. This sense…