So why do we all love Spain so much?

Is it the sun, the people, the sea, the food, the wine, the relaxed lifestyle; all of the above, or some of the above?? Or something else?

My story is a little different to most. My father was brought up in Spain before The Civil War. After the 2nd WW. He was head of MI6 in Madrid until 1954.

I was born in 1955 on a farm in Essex. Although to all appearances from the outside our household was very English country middle class. There were things Spanish around. Tommy Harris paintings of Olive groves and country side. Paintings and antique furnishings from Spain filled the house. Olive oil and garlic was used for cooking ( Not English back in the late 50s or 60s) Paella, Gaspacho soup, Garlic Soup.

All these influences of my childhood were there, hovering around my everyday environment. Consequently in most English homes I felt slightly foreign and never quite knew why.

My first holiday abroad was on the estates of family friends who lived in Antequera. Jose Antonio Munoz Rojas one of my father’s dearest friends from their days at Cambridge. Jose who had escaped the Civil War was my father’s Spanish tutor and is a well known figure in certain circles of Spanish society. He is the equivalent of the poet laureate of Malaga and now very old. (99) In his time he has made private readings to the King and Queen in their Palace in Madrid?

It was when we were on Holiday in Jose’s hacienda just outside of Antequera that I first learnt the skill of mime as a form of communcation, my Spanish at the age of 4 was not too good.

At the age of 12, it was in amongst the fields, the vineyards and olive groves of the Munoz Rojas lands where I became a true life cowboy with a poncho and sombrero. Of course we did not round up cattle but my friend Jose (nephew of Jose Antonio and known to me as Joe) slept under the stars with our horses, a 22 rifle for rabbits and snakes. Of course we ate rabbit which we cooked, we did not shoot any snakes, but a few scared the horses on occasions.

Water, un leaven bread with home made cheese and chorizo and a rabbit was sustenance for our 2 day adventure. The comfort of bed and hot baths, and other luxuries one finds in a hacienda with cooks to make tasty Spanish omelettes, maids to clean riding boots and clothes and grooms to take care of the horses, soon take over the tired 12 year old boy. This was in 1967. That was a wonderful Spain to experience, but a little lofty for me. When I moved here, from California, in 1990 the food, the wine and the relaxed people and the feeling of freedom was overwhelming and great; especially after nine years in Los Angeles.