I cannot bear to look at the news anymore, with emerging and persistent snippets about the possibility of a third wave of Covid-19, regions of France and Italy going back into lockdown and Germany struggling to keep the lid on a further spike in infection rates. I think that, after the unsurprising post-Christmas spike and subsequent restrictions for most of us, followed by vaccine roll-out programmes, we have all been looking forward with some optimism. This latest news is one slap in the face too far and, speaking for myself, I am finding it extremely difficult to even contemplate months more of similar restrictions. The prospect of seeing family and friends at some stage shortly after 17th May is one of the few things keeping us both going.

We had our weekly Spanish classes this morning and during my conversation I dwelt on the strangeness of the situation at the moment, for us here in our home. We have become used to remaining at home, with a narrow little world, even though we know we are more fortunate than many in having uninterrupted miles of landscape surrounding us. Simple things have provided much-needed release from the confinement that Covid has wrought. We have managed to escape for a few days’ skiing, and it is incredible what a tonic these breaks were. The resort has managed to remain operational this year, albeit in a limited capacity. There is a maximum number of people allowed in the resort at any one time, and only a handful of ski-lifts have been opened, due to financial cut-backs. That said, the weird circumstances of this year have brought a unique opportunity to enjoy skiing in a resort without crowds. Each day we have been up to the resort has been absolutely wonderful: no queues for lifts; slopes that have, occasionally, been devoid of other skiers and snow-boarders. After a good couple of hours’ skiing, we have repaired to the village and had lunch sitting on a terrace in full sun, in the glorious fresh-air and felt utterly normal. For those particular days, we have been separated from the relentlessly worrying news, the emotional attrition of too much social media and life felt light, joyful, optimistic and emptied of concern.

For the same reasons, we have both rather enjoyed this past week of creating our patio. Many of you will have seen our posts on Instagram and Facebook during the development of the patio. When the house build was finished, we had decided to create two patios using pebble mosaic. In Granada, there are many small squares and narrow streets that use the decorative ‘empedrados’, or cobblestones, and we wanted to create something similar at home. The first patio we created was outside the kitchen, and this was done when my son James was persuaded to stay on to help. This patio was reasonably manageable in size, and we had a very organic design of a Pomegranate tree, with sweeping curves. In terms of geometry, the only straight lines we had to consider were those of the borders.

The patio outside the studio was a much larger proposition and it therefore remained undone for far too long. We decided to have a path and terrace built through the centre of the garden as the first step towards landscaping the area, and it was the completion of this project that gave us both the necessary kick up the proverbial. Looking at the weather forecast, we saw a gap in the Winter/Spring variations, and hit upon a week of warm sunshine and cloudless skies. We had the pebbles left over from the creation of the first patio, and we had building sand remaining from the construction of the path, so we really had no further excuse.

The method for building this terrace, known as the Gin Terrace, was to be slightly different from the kitchen terrace, mainly due to the size. For the kitchen terrace, we set the stones on a wet cement mix as we went along. This certainly gives the end result a lot of robustness, but it did seem like overkill. For the Gin Terrace, we decided that we would set the pebbles on a bed of sand without the wet mix cement. Both terraces already had a flat concrete base, put in place during the house construction, so we had the basis for the slopes and the levels, which was a start.

We didn’t have a clear idea of the design, either, which was another reason for the delay. We toyed with various ideas, but the site is an irregular shape and it was proving tricky to find something that would fit without looking odd. Andrew wanted to use his design for the Casa Higueras logo, an open fig, and then we would create something around this central feature. However, nothing seemed to work.

Eventually, we came up the idea of a compass with the fig at the heart. It needed to be something that would work both up close and from a distance. Many people, when walking in the area, go to the Ermita de San Antón on the hill above our garden, and they can look down onto the terrace, so we wanted something that they could enjoy, too.

Once we had decided on the design, we had no more excuses. We raked a bed of sand across the concrete and started to draw out the design. One of our social media followers asked if we had used a computer to plot the design. The answer was a decided no! We relied on string tied to a pencil to create the circles, a long builder’s pole, a spirit level and a bamboo cane - all the height of sophisticated design!

The sun shone, and clouds disappeared and we began the task of laying the pebbles. The larger white pebbles presented few initial problems; the little black pebbles were another story. When we got to areas that needed black pebbles, we would fit the little stones together like an ill-formed jigsaw, but never seemed to make much progress! It took an age to fill an area of black. The toll this took on our knees and backs hardly needs describing. I have a dodgy knee from a ski fall on our first trip to the mountains, and it still gives me trouble. Kneeling all day in homage to a few pebbles did little to bring my knee any relief.

However, despite the back-ache and knee-swelling, there was something indescribably enjoyable about this laborious task. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it to anyone expecting a day of endless pleasure. Scratting around in piles of pebbles, looking for the ‘perfect’ ones, the bigger ones, the flatter ones, does nothing for the hands, and we both now have the claws of a long-dead raven. We emerged from a day’s pebble-laying, covered in dust, groaning and grunting and barely able to stand straight. Nevertheless, progress was made, and very quickly we realised that we were creating something lovely.

We had one day off, when we were visited by friends for lunch, and it was a bit difficult to get back on track the following day. We were not to be sidetracked, though, and we persevered. Instead of being bombarded by unwelcome news, we listened to music or podcasts, and we both loved catching up on Louis Theroux’s fascinating chats with his lockdown guests, as well as past episodes of Desert Island Discs. Despite the agonies (!), there was something rudimentary about kneeling in the sun, meticulously placing one small stone after another. We were outside, in this gorgeous location, and for that reason we had absolutely no reason to complain. Working on the terrace gave us another opportunity to take in the magnificent view, to realise what a lovely space our studio is, and how the creation of this terrace gives us yet another vantage point from where to absorb the beauty that lies all around us. After months of indecision and lack of inspiration, it was incredible the change this creation brought about, not just through the physical appearance of the terrace, but through our renewed appreciation of our garden.

When we bought the house, the garden was wild; beautiful, but wild. Now, we have managed to create an area that retains the wildness of a site that is, to all intents and purposes, the side of a mountain, but we have dovetailed our ideas with nature’s template. We have now planted a collection of shrubs and flowers that suit the climate here - scorching in the summer and freezing in the winter! Once these plants get established, we hope to see a palette of colour provided by Potentilla, Cistus, Roses, Echinacea, fragrance provided by Philadelphus, Honeysuckle and Jasmine all mixed in with ornamental grasses, succulents and lots of new fruit trees.

After a week of labour, in the sun, listening to calming voices on podcasts, supping the occasional very cold beer, all the pebbles had been laid. The geometric pattern had worked extremely well, and the dimensions and scale were exactly as we had hoped. We took photos daily, to show progress, and even we were impressed by our own humble design and planning skills!

Once all the pebbles were set and levels checked, we then brushed dry cement all over the surface, taking time to get cement in between every gap; we then sprayed the area with water to harden the cement. The next day, we were able to go over the surface once more, filling any small gaps that might have appeared and then gave the area another fine spray.

Every limb might still ache. Our hands were sore, cracked and dry. Both of us never want to see another pebble again. However, what we have created is something that we both love and that opens up another part of our beautiful home. It creates cohesion, and gives life to this corner beside the studio; it seems to complement the breathtaking views, and the natural ruggedness of the land we acquired.

Today marks the day when, a year ago, we launched #MyTravelPledge, our small but hopeful campaign at the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. Here we are, one year on, and on the face of it, very little has changed. We can’t bear to dwell on the sad times from the past twelve months; the sense of loss, the separation from friends and family. We have to remain hopeful that we can soon be with those people we love. Days of pebble-laying and skiing have brought days of normality and a hope that we can enjoy things beyond the confines of our heavenly home. In the meantime, I count every blessing that Andrew and Alfie are here with me to lighten the darker days. Now, what we want more than anything is to have people here to marvel at our Gin Terrace…and drink Gin!