How did we end up here?
Once again, time has passed in a flash and it has been pointed out that we have not written a post for ages. Huge apologies all round, but we have been very busy for the first 6 months of this year and the reasons why will be revealed soon enough. Suffice to say, we don’t believe in sitting on our backsides doing nothing; the concept of retirement is anathema! That said, we are now in a position to be able to schedule in one or two breaks to the coast to do bugger all but lie on a sunbed, order ice-cold beers and read books.
Be warned, though: shortly, this blog will be ablaze once again with words and photos and plenty of updates on the first half of this year, and we can’t wait!
In the meantime, we thought we’d answer a question that is often asked of us: “How did you end up here?”.
Over the past couple of years, we have had many people pass through the doors of Casa Higueras, and almost every guest has been curious to know how this particular British couple found themselves in Moclín, tucked away in rural Granada Province. I think we have previously related the tale of our property buying experiences through this blog, but in short we knew that we wanted to be near Granada. In the first 18 months of our life in Spain, we travelled the depth and breadth of Andalucia for one reason or another, taking in all the major cities - Málaga, Almería, Cádiz, Sevilla, Córdoba and many, many points in between. Part of this journey was due to work, interviewing guests for my then radio programme, and part of it was for the pleasure of discovering everything that Andalucía had to offer. We have been overwhelmed by the variety and beauty of southern Spain, and everywhere we have visited has it own real charms that are unique to their location. However, much as we love spending time in the gorgeous cities listed above, there was something that always drew us back to Granada. It has an intimacy about it, a scale that sits just below ‘big city’, and a heart that is generous to a fault. Ever since our first days at language school near Plaza Nueva, when we went daily into a small, local bar for our morning coffee and the owner had our cups lined up ready for us when we arrived, we had this sense of belonging that has never faded. Indeed, that sense of belonging has grown to the extent that we can’t ever imagine ever living anywhere else.
Granada City as seen from Sacromonte
When we decided to buy a property in Andalucia, therefore, we centred our search around Granada. When we initially arrived in Spain, we rented the lovely house of a friend in the Valle de Lecrín and this suited our purposes perfectly. However, due to one thing and another, we found ourselves questioning whether we wanted to settle in an area with a relatively high number of non-Spanish residents. One of the main reasons why we came to live here was to immerse ourselves in a very traditional Spanish way of life, with Spanish friends, and it is all too easy to slip into a community of immigrants, speaking English, when surrounded by fellow immigrants. Whilst this suits many people who choose to live in Spain, it was not what we wanted. Through forcing ourselves to learn Spanish, we have come to understand so much more about our adopted country, its customs, idiosyncrasies and rich cultural heritage. I remember reading an article written by a polyglot about how he first came to learn a foreign language and his epiphany came when he realised that he just had to stop using his native language altogether in order to get a grip on his new language. That is easier said than done when two English-speakers live together, as it takes some discipline to decide to stop speaking English when all you want to do is gossip about trivia at the end of the day, when your brain is too tired to think about attempting to moan about the day’s tribulations using Spanish past tenses!
Drawing a circle around Granada city, we knew that we wanted to be around 35 or 40 minutes’ drive from the hub, and didn’t want to be in the Sierra Nevada as we felt it might be just a little too cold during the winter. That narrowed down our search area to approximately two-thirds of the circle. To the south of Granada, between the city and the coast where we had been renting, we came to realise that the type of property we sought was slightly beyond our budget, so another slice of the circle was eliminated.
We extended our search towards Córdoba Province and went to view a property near the very charming small town of Priego de Córdoba. Despite loving Priego, we decided that it was just too far from Granada and after our extensive travels across Andalucia, we were now too emotionally attached to that city to consider moving too far away. Every time we returned to Granada after a jaunt, it felt more and more like home and that sense of belonging to which I alluded before is a bond that is hard to break.
Following the house-viewing trip to Priego de Córdoba, we passed a sign to Moclín and, curious as ever, we decided to take a detour from Puerto Lope to see what this sign would reveal. Through gentle hills covered in olive trees we drove until we rounded one bend to see a castle perched on a ragged mountain-top in the near distance. It is a view we will never forget. The village was winding down after its main fiesta at the beginning of October. Bunting threaded across streets and red carpets still lay outside the church just below the 13th Century castle. The crowds had largely dispersed leaving behind a few visitors still making the most of the tail-end of the Cristo del Paño celebrations, and there was a prevailing atmosphere that was hard to describe. The village was dressed in its finery, but there was a modesty behind the fancy dress; a charm that was clear to see beyond the frippery of fiesta and festival. We had a drink in the bar and were welcomed warmly to the extent that we already formed an attachment, unable to believe that we had stumbled upon such a gorgeous secret.
Our first view of Moclín
Our time in Andalucia has been punctuated by a series of very fortunate and fateful decisions, and our diversion on that day to visit the village beyond the sign was, perhaps, the most fortuitous of those decisions. Coincidentally, a friend of ours had heard of Moclín (where very few other people had, including most of our friends in Granada), and this friend knew of some who lived in the village. So it was that we found an estate agent who had a few properties for sale in the area, we viewed four and bought one.
Looking back, we admire our own spontaneity! We knew nothing of this village, and yet we knew that it had afforded us such a welcome that we were happy to take the plunge and make it our home. We had no idea what the neighbours were like, or what work might be involved in turning a traditional village house into a home that we would love. We made an offer on the property in late-October and collected the keys in mid-December, so committed were we to this new relationship with Moclín.
We have had previous conversations with friends from the UK who have considered moves to other countries and one of the pieces of advice I have always given is to commit. It is hard to try and make a move to another country when you still have a tie to the country you are leaving behind - a foot in either camp makes the move harder, we believe. We experienced this ourselves, and it was only once we had decided that Spain was where we wanted to be that everything else fell into place. We committed to this new life and it was extraordinary how protected we felt once the decision was taken. We know that we are lucky to have found Moclín, but never did we believe that we would become so connected to our new home, a connection that extends far beyond the four walls of our home. The connection extends deeper into the soul and it is founded on love, respect, community, family, and a sharing of all these elements. Our neighbours’ family histories were born and are inextricably intertwined within the fabric of the buildings and the landscapes of this historic and breathtakingly beautiful corner of Andalucia. It is almost as if everything becomes one: buildings forged of rock that, in themselves, become part of the natural landscape charting a history of past generations of families that have been here since time immemorial. Once you invest in this history you become a part of the future and part of the extended family that carries the responsibility for generations to come.
When guests ask us how we came to be here in Moclín, it is easier and more concise simply to say that we love it here. Just look around at the views, the landscapes, the history, the villagers, the way of life and you will understand.
