James & Patricia
Finding the Cheese Lady, Again
We’re ten minutes outside Santiago in a small house with a sticky kitchen door. Market day. Tote, coins, notebook. Bertie at the threshold doing his union stare. At the Mercado de Abastos we split jobs. Patricia checks prices and boards. I ask to taste. “¿Puedo probar?” Small pieces, no fuss. The Cheese Lady is on ... Read more
Pulpo, Peppers, and the Man Who Forgets to Charge His Hearing Aid
The octopus arrived before the invitation. Luis turned up unannounced, holding it by the head like he’d just won a weird seafood lottery. It dangled there, limp and purple, while he bellowed something about lunch, padrón peppers, and how no one in the village can cook anymore. He wasn’t asking. He was summoning. “¡Coméis conmigo!”No ... Read more
The Mysterious Case of the Missing Cheese Lady
Saturday. The market day.You could feel Patricia twitching with anticipation by 8:42am. She didn’t say it outright, but she hovered near the door like someone expecting a parcel—or a sign from the gods. She had her little woven basket. The one with the fraying handle she insists adds “character.” Bertie had already been walked and ... Read more
Back in Galicia: Dust, Dead Wi-Fi, and One Very Happy Dog
We got home and the first thing Bertie did was vanish into the undergrowth like a feral stoat. Gone. Not even a backward glance. Tail in the air, sniffing everything, probably looking for that smug little lizard he never caught last time. The second thing we noticed? The smell. Not awful. Just… abandoned. Damp stone, ... Read more
Taking the Long Way Home: Villages, Motorways, and One Very Spanish Nap
We could have driven straight down to the house in a day — it’s not that far from Santander — but something about the sea air and the slightly surreal feeling of waking up in a different country made us pause. Maybe we’re getting old. Maybe it was the smell of fresh churros at the ... Read more
The Long Drive South: Plymouth to Santander (and One Very Cross Terrier)
We left Pickering just after dawn, the sort of start that feels adventurous until you realise you’ve left your tea on the windowsill and neither of you can remember locking the back door. James reassured me (four times) that he did, and I chose to believe him somewhere around Driffield. The drive to Plymouth is ... Read more
Bertie’s Farewell Tour: Favourite Walks Before Spain
We’ve done all his favourites this week. Bertie knows something’s up — he always does. The suitcases are out, James has started making long, contemplative noises in the shed, and I’ve washed the car mats, which apparently signals a full geopolitical shift in Bertie’s universe. So we walked. First was the easy one — down ... Read more
Late Spring in Pickering: Last of the Light
The cow parsley’s already tall enough to tickle Bertie’s ears, which is my usual cue that we’re slipping into the tail end of spring. I swear it’s earlier every year — or maybe I’m just getting slower to notice the change. James insists it’s because I always get distracted talking to strangers in the bakery ... Read more
Grandkids Visit: Chaos in the Caravan
They arrived like an ambush. No warning, no warm-up act—just the sound of car doors slamming and then a small voice shouting, “GRANDAD, WHERE’S THE TOAD?” before I’d even put the kettle on. Four of them. Four small, unstoppable humans, all under ten, with muddy shoes, suspiciously sticky hands, and the boundless energy of creatures ... Read more
Rain, Rain, Go Away: Wet Weekend in Malton
It started as one of Patricia’s bright ideas. “Let’s go to Malton for the weekend,” she said, folding the map like a woman planning a small invasion. “We’ll eat somewhere nice and poke around the food market. Might be good to get out.”I should’ve known we were doomed when she packed the good umbrella. We ... Read more