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A Wind That Comes Out of the Ground (and Why Bertie Wouldn’t Go Near It)
We were back in North Yorkshire for Christmas, properly back this time. Long enough to see friends rather than just exchange messages, long enough to sit at tables that went on a bit too long, and long enough for our dog, Bertie, to remember exactly which houses he expects treats in. Between lunches, catch ups, ... Read more
Bertie and the Tide at Esteiro
It started as one of those half-decided Sundays. The sky cleared around ten, the sort of light that makes you think you should get outside before it changes its mind. So we packed a flask and set off toward Esteiro. It’s only fifteen minutes from home, but it feels like another world once you reach ... Read more
The Clifftop Chapel and the Woman with Too Many Keys
We left Cedeira later than planned because the baker started talking about his nephew’s scooter. Coast road west, slow going. Sea on the left, bends that make you sit up. Low cloud again. A small sign for Ermita de San Antonio de Corveiro popped up by a bend. White chapel, short pull-in under pines. We ... Read more
Pulpo at Home: What Luis Forgot to Tell Us
Late morning. Pot on. Timer set. Luis’s rule is simple: timing and the lid. Here’s what he didn’t say, learned today in our kitchen with a dog under the table and Wordle waiting. What we cooked1.2 kg frozen, cleaned octopus. Tall 8-litre pot. Coarse salt. Good olive oil. Pimentón dulce with a pinch of picante. ... Read more
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