by Helen | Nov 12, 2026 | Lifestyle
When we bought our house in Jimena de la Frontera, we knew it had a history. Quite how much of that history we would ever discover was another matter.
It’s an old house, on an old street, in a town where the past is never particularly far away. And while we’ve spent the last couple of years uncovering original features, restoring doors and making the house our own, we’ve often wondered about the people who lived here before us.
Who walked through those enormous front doors? What did the rooms look like? How many families have called this place home? And what was Calle Sevilla like when they did? Recently, a little curiosity has led us down a rather unexpected path.
We’ve discovered old photographs, accounts of buildings that have long since disappeared, and stories of people and events that were once part of everyday life in Jimena. Some are quaint and charming. Others are quite extraordinary. And a few are tragic. What has surprised us most is how much history there is to discover about a street we’ve come to know so well – and how little we actually know about our own house.
So we’ve started asking questions. We’ve been looking through historical accounts, exploring old photographs and trying to find out whether any records might tell us who lived at number 13 before us. We haven’t found the answers yet.
But we’re beginning to realise that the story of our house isn’t just about the building. It’s about the street, the town and all the people whose lives have been woven into them. And we really like the idea of finding out a little more. Perhaps someone reading this remembers Calle Sevilla as it once was. Perhaps someone has an old photograph tucked away, or remembers a family who lived at number 13. We’d love to hear from you.
In the meantime, we’ll keep looking. Because sometimes the most interesting stories are the ones that have been right on your doorstep all along.
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by Helen | Nov 9, 2026 | Lifestyle
There are some decisions you make when renovating a house that take weeks of consideration. And others that just seem right from the moment you see them. Our kitchen sink was one of the latter.
When we started planning the kitchen in our Andalucian townhouse, we knew we wanted something simple. White microcement worktops, clean lines, black window frames and very little visual clutter. A calm, practical space, but with a few details that were a little unexpected. And then we found the sink. On Amazon, of all places.
Not the traditional stainless steel variety, or even a conventional ceramic one. This was something rather different. A brushed gold finish, a deep basin, an integrated chopping board, a draining basket and a tap that appeared to do considerably more than simply dispense water. There was even a built-in cup washer. Possibly more technology than we’d ever imagined needing in a kitchen sink.
But we loved it. Both of us. No persuasion required.
a little different doesn’t have to mean expensive
One of the things we’ve discovered over the years is that an unusual design choice doesn’t necessarily have to come with an unusual price tag. Our sink cost no more than a good-quality, mid-range conventional sink. It wasn’t an extravagant purchase or something we’d stretched the budget to accommodate. It was simply a different option. And that’s something we’ve tried to remember throughout the renovation.
It’s easy to assume that creating an individual home means spending a great deal of money on expensive fixtures and fittings. Sometimes it does. But sometimes it’s simply about looking beyond the obvious choices.
finding the balance
We’ve always been drawn to interiors that feel calm and uncluttered. Spaces where materials, textures and a few carefully chosen details do the talking. Our kitchen was never going to be filled with colour or pattern. The white microcement provides a quiet backdrop, while the black window frames give the room definition. The brushed gold introduces a little warmth.
And although gold might not be the first finish that comes to mind when you think of a minimalist kitchen, we felt it worked beautifully with the other materials. It’s an interesting balance. The sink itself is quite an elaborate piece of equipment, yet within the simplicity of the kitchen, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. At least, not to us.
getting to know our sink
Now, we’ve had plenty of kitchen sinks over the years. But none that required quite so much familiarisation. For a start, the water is controlled by a dial rather than a conventional tap handle. And depending on the setting, it can emerge as a gentle rainfall or in a long line of water towards the front of the sink. It’s worth checking which setting you’ve selected before turning the dial. The main tap also has a button that switches between a powerful, concentrated stream and a much gentler, dispersed flow. Again, a little familiarity is advisable. Once you know what you’re doing, it’s all very straightforward. But there was definitely a period of getting acquainted.
And then there’s the cup washer. This clever little device sits at the top right of the sink and is designed to rinse cups and glasses quickly and efficiently. In theory, marvellous. In practice, we had one rather unfortunate episode when we couldn’t work out how to turn it off, resulting in water going absolutely everywhere. Entirely user error, we hasten to add. The cup washer hasn’t been used since. We’ve decided that washing glasses by hand, or putting them in the dishwasher, is a perfectly satisfactory arrangement.
Sometimes the old ways really are the best.
living with our choice
Cup washer adventures aside, we genuinely love our sink. The brushed gold finish has stood up beautifully to everyday use and is surprisingly easy to keep clean. The integrated chopping board and draining basket are practical additions, and having everything contained within the sink helps us maintain the uncluttered worktops we wanted. It’s certainly more sophisticated than any sink we’ve owned previously, and perhaps a little more sophisticated than we actually need. But that’s part of its appeal. And despite the occasional unexpected water feature, we wouldn’t change it.
making a home your own
If there’s one thing renovating this house has reinforced, it’s that there really isn’t a single right way to approach interior design. We all have different tastes, different priorities and different ideas about what makes a home feel comfortable. For us, it’s simplicity, warmth and a sense of calm. But that doesn’t mean everything has to be conventional or predictable. Sometimes the most interesting choices are the ones you weren’t expecting to make.
Even when it’s something as ordinary as the kitchen sink.
by Helen | Nov 9, 2026 | Lifestyle
Another week in our little corner of Andalucía, and another seven days of attempting to make life just that little bit simpler. An ambition which, given recent experience, might be considered somewhat optimistic.
After weeks of correspondence, numerous conversations, various promises and an increasingly impressive collection of customer service representatives, our new internet provider finally arrived. An actual engineer. At our actual house. With an actual router. Quite a moment. And, even more astonishingly, it worked. The speeds now are fantastic, the connection is stable and, for a brief, glorious period, we allowed ourselves to believe that one of our more prolonged technological adventures had finally reached a satisfactory conclusion. Naturally, we were getting ahead of ourselves.
Our television in the Snug, which has already provided enough material for several instalments of this journal, took one look at the new connection and decided it wasn’t interested.
The picture began moving in slow motion. The sound disappeared entirely. Watching television became rather like viewing an experimental art installation, although considerably less entertaining. We tried various things, compared connections and eventually reconnected it to our old internet provider. Perfect…
After all the effort involved in changing providers, we now have wonderfully fast new internet and a television that prefers the old one. Progress, of a sort.
And speaking of progress, our ongoing relationship with our Spanish bank continues to provide an almost inexhaustible source of material. We’ve spent months attempting to resolve problems with our house insurance, requesting corrections to important information, chasing documentation and trying to persuade someone to take responsibility for actually sorting things out. We’ve now reached the stage of formal complaints, unanswered correspondence and a growing determination to take our banking elsewhere. Unfortunately, leaving a bank in Spain isn’t necessarily as straightforward as deciding you’d rather use another one. There are accounts to investigate, arrangements to untangle and, in our case, various administrative matters to put in order before we can finally close the door. We’re calling it The Great Escape from Caixa. At this point, we’re beginning to suspect that escaping from a high-security institution might involve less paperwork.
Meanwhile, back at home, our attempts to make the house a little smarter continue. The new internet connection has meant introducing our growing collection of devices to a different Wi-Fi network. Lights, plugs, thermometers and assorted other gadgets all need to be persuaded that the world hasn’t ended simply because the router has changed. Our house now contains an increasingly impressive number of things that communicate with one another, switch themselves on and off, monitor conditions and generally attempt to make our lives easier. At least, that’s the theory.
We have lights that know when it’s evening, dehumidifiers that know when the air is sufficiently dry and robot vacuum cleaners that have apparently developed their own opinions about where they should be cleaning. Donette, our upstairs vacuum cleaner, has previously demonstrated a rather imaginative understanding of the house, occasionally relocating her docking station to places where it has never actually existed. We’re hoping the new Wi-Fi doesn’t encourage any further creative interpretation of the floor plan.
Still, we’re getting there. And there’s something very satisfying about watching the house gradually become more comfortable and manageable, particularly as the cooler months approach.
We’ve also been making a few little changes to the interiors. Nothing dramatic, just those small additions that make a house feel increasingly like home. A couple of inexpensive rugs have turned out to be a lot more lovely than their modest price tags suggested. Proof, if ever it were needed, that spending more doesn’t necessarily mean getting something better.
Work, meanwhile, has been as busy as ever. Websites nearing completion, new projects taking shape, familiar clients keeping us occupied and the occasional idea that begins as a passing conversation and somehow develops into an entirely new venture. We’ve also been working on our own studio identity, refining our approach and enjoying the process of making things= a little simpler and more considered. Less is more. A philosophy we wholeheartedly embrace, although it occasionally seems to involve a surprising amount of work.
And then, amongst all the technology, administration and general business of everyday life, came a lovely little discovery. We’ve been looking into ordering fresh fruit and vegetables from a Spanish grower, exploring the possibility of having a seasonal box delivered to our home every couple of weeks. It sounds a relatively ordinary thing, but browsing the website led us to something that immediately caught my attention. Sweet potatoes.
Not just any sweet potatoes, but ones grown in the sandy estuary around Sanlúcar de Barrameda. Sanlúcar is a place that holds particularly happy memories for us. We lived there while our house in Jimena was being renovated, spending several months getting to know a different part of Andalucía while waiting for our new home to take shape. It’s a beautiful place, with its enormous skies, the Guadalquivir meeting the Atlantic and that wonderfully distinctive atmosphere of a town shaped by the river and the sea.
And now, quite unexpectedly, here it was again. A little connection to that chapter of our lives, discovered while browsing a website for vegetables. Naturally, I couldn’t resist. Three kilograms of sweet potatoes and a seasonal vegetable box have been ordered, with delivery expected on Tuesday. I’ve also somehow managed to acquire 88 loyalty points, despite not yet having received a single vegetable. I’m already invested in the whole enterprise. There’s something lovely about the idea of produce arriving at our door from a place that holds such happy memories. And if the vegetables are as good as I’m hoping, this may become a regular little pleasure. Although we may need to investigate approximately how many things it’s possible to do with three kilograms of sweet potatoes.
And perhaps that’s been the nicest part of this week. Amidst all the attempts to improve our technology, simplify our finances and persuade various organisations to do what they’re supposed to do, life has continued in its own lovely way. The house is looking increasingly like the home we imagined. The days are still beautifully mild for November, and we’re beginning to appreciate the quieter pleasures of this time of year. The light falling across the rooms. The changing shadows. The satisfaction of finding just the right place for something. The pleasure of discovering a little connection to somewhere we’ve loved.
None of it particularly dramatic. And that’s really nice.
So, as a new week begins, we have faster internet, a television with very definite preferences, a house that’s becoming increasingly intelligent and a bank we’re becoming increasingly determined to leave. And on Tuesday, all being well, three kilograms of sweet potatoes.
A Week in the Life of… A little progress, a little absurdity and 88 loyalty points. Just another week of attempting to simplify life in Andalucía. Which, as we’re discovering, can be a surprisingly complicated business.
by Helen | Nov 2, 2026 | Lifestyle
As summer has passed, so too have overly summery dinners. Gone are the cool, green salads and light dishes and in come the more hearty recipes. We’re finding that our meals are slowly becoming more on the spicy, punchy side, as we prepare for the onset of colder weather – and one of our favourite tried and tested Jamie Oliver soups, often on the menu, is his Spicy Squash Laska Soup.
This soup – or to be more precise, broth, as it’s rich and thick – is packed full of Malaysian flavours, and is much more of a substantial meal than a bowl of soup. There are a lot of ingredients and it takes a bit of preparation, but once everything is bubbling away, it’s well worth it. And, the kitchen smells amazing as all of the spices do their work.
what you’ll need
- 1 litre of stock (we used veggie stock cubes)
- Handful of lime leaves
- 3 fresh red chillies, de-seeded (or a big spoonful of dried chilli flakes)
- 2 cloves garlic, peeled
- 1 large thumb-sized piece fresh ginger, peeled
- 3 sticks lemongrass, trimmed and squashed with the back of a knife
- sea salt
- freshly ground black pepper
- 1 small bunch fresh coriander
- olive oil
- 1 heaped teaspoon five-spice (we didn’t have five spice, so used garam masala as a substitute)
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 onion, peeled and finely sliced
- 1 large butternut squash (or pumpkin), halved, peeled, de-seeded and cut into 1 inch chunks
- 200g basmati rice
- 2 x 400ml tinned light coconut milk
- Fresh lime juice (we used 2 limes)
what you’ll need to do
- To make the fragrant soup base, add the lime leaves, chillies, garlic, ginger, lemongrass and a pinch of salt to a pestle & mortar. Chop the top few leaves off your bunch of coriander and leave to one side, then add the rest to the mortar and grind the ingredients, until all of the “bits” have gone. Add a few good splashes of olive oil, the five-spice and ground cumin.
- Heat olive oil in a pan and then the tip this mixture straight in – fry and stir for a couple of minutes so the aromas are released. Add your sliced onion, then cook gently for 8 to 10 minutes.
- Add the squash to the pan and stir well, then pour in the stock. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 20 to 25 minutes until the squash is lovely and soft. At this point, add the rice and give it a really good stir. If it looks a bit dry, you can add a splash of water here. Continue to simmer for about 8 minutes until the rice is almost cooked, then add the coconut milk and bring back to the boil. Simmer for a couple of minutes until hot through and thickened a little.
- Take the pan off the heat, give it a good stir, then taste and season carefully with salt and pepper. Add the lime juice – the amount you need will depend on how juicy your limes are, so keep tasting it as you go. Scatter with more sliced fresh chilli and your reserved coriander leaves before serving.
The original Jamie Oliver recipe shows the soup served in the hollowed out pumpkin/squash. This definitely looks a whole lot more elaborate and striking than serving out of the pan into bowls, but to be honest, we just wanted to get the soup down us, rather than prettify it. Perhaps if we were serving it for friends over for dinner, then this might be a great thing to do, but for a Saturday night dinner for two, it just seemed a step too far. Anyway, this is what Jamie’s looked like. Ours, tasty as it was, looked nothing like this…
by Helen | Nov 2, 2026 | Lifestyle
After several weeks in which life seemed determined to provide us with enough material for a small novel, things have been a little quieter. Relatively speaking.
The working week has been a busy one, with websites being launched, others nearing completion and a few new ideas beginning to take shape. We’ve been revisiting an old business venture, considering some new possibilities and enjoying the rather lovely feeling of seeing projects we’ve worked on for months finally coming together. There’s something particularly satisfying about completing a piece of creative work and knowing that the people you’ve created it for are genuinely delighted. It makes all the hours of discussion, design decisions and occasional head-scratching worthwhile.
Meanwhile, our various ongoing encounters with Spanish bureaucracy and temperamental technology have continued to progress. Almost. Our change of internet and mobile provider is almost arranged. Our television difficulties are almost resolved. And our bank and insurance company are almost in a position to address the rather urgent matter of our house insurance policy. Almost is becoming a remarkably familiar word in our household.
We’ve spent a considerable amount of time over recent weeks exchanging emails, examining documents, testing equipment and attempting to establish precisely what needs to happen next. And while there have been encouraging developments, we’re discovering that the distance between almost sorted and actually sorted can be surprisingly considerable. Still, we’re nothing if not persistent. And then, thankfully, life provided a very welcome distraction…
Late on Sunday night, our family arrived for a week of half-term adventures. The house, which is usually occupied by just the two of us, suddenly became a wonderfully noisy, busy place, full of people, conversation, laughter and the general chaos that comes with having a houseful. We love it. There’s something rather special about seeing our home filled with family, particularly when everyone has travelled such a long way to be together. And what a week they chose to visit.
We’ve had some absolutely glorious weather. The sort of sunshine that makes you forget we’re approaching November, with beautiful blue skies and temperatures that have made spending time outdoors an absolute pleasure. So, naturally, we headed for the beach.
Valdevaqueros, near Tarifa, is one of those places that never fails to impress us. A vast stretch of sand, enormous skies and the extraordinary spectacle of kite surfers taking advantage of the winds for which this part of the coast is famous. We spent some wonderful hours simply sitting in our beach chairs, watching the colourful kites sweeping across the sky, occasionally marvelling at the athleticism of the people attached to them. It’s quite something to watch.
And beyond it all, across the Strait of Gibraltar, the mountains of Morocco were clearly visible on the horizon. Africa, from our beach chairs. At the end of October. Every now and again, we find ourselves looking around and remembering just how fortunate we are to live where we do.
Not because life here is perfect. It certainly isn’t. There are frustrations, complications and enough administrative mysteries to keep us occupied for years. But then there are days like these. Warm sunshine, beautiful beaches, family together, the sea stretching out towards another continent and absolutely no pressing reason to be anywhere else.
The emails can wait. The insurance company can continue its deliberations. The television may or may not decide to cooperate. For a few hours, none of it matters very much. And perhaps that’s what this week has reminded us. Life doesn’t always need to be full of extraordinary events to be memorable.
Sometimes it’s simply about having the people you love around you, enjoying the place you’ve chosen to call home and appreciating the rather wonderful fact that, even as November approaches, you can still spend an afternoon sitting on a beach in the sunshine. There have been lovely little surprises, too. Our family returned from a visit to Vejer de la Frontera with the most beautiful lantern for our home. One of those gifts that makes you realise just how well the people closest to you know you. It’s already found its perfect spot, casting the loveliest patterns of warm light and shadow across the walls.
A Week in the Life of… A little less absurdity. A little more sunshine.
by Helen | Nov 2, 2026 | Lifestyle
There’s a particular optimism attached to the arrival of a new piece of technology. Here, in this box, might be the answer. A small investment of time setting it up, and one less thing to worry about. Sometimes, that optimism survives the unpacking. And sometimes, it doesn’t.
Our Starlink adventure began with a perfectly sensible intention. Working from home in southern Spain, we depend on our internet connection. Designing websites, sending artwork, communicating with clients—much of our working day requires it. Our fibre connection is generally excellent, but winter storms had already demonstrated how inconvenient several days without it could be.
A backup seemed sensible. Something independent of the fibre connection, ready to step in when needed. And so, Starlink entered the conversation. Shortly afterwards, a Starlink Mini entered the house. What followed involved rather more experimentation than we’d envisaged.
There were positions to try, connections to test and trips between the roof terrace, balcony and various parts of the house. We spent time looking at obstruction maps and checking speeds, trying to establish whether we could make it work satisfactorily where we actually needed to use it.
The satellites were only part of the equation. Getting a connection into the property and getting useful Wi-Fi around the house were separate challenges. Our house was making its own contribution to proceedings. Eventually, we decided the Mini wasn’t right for us.
For a while, we considered the larger version. Perhaps that would give us what we needed. But it also meant committing more money and more time to something we’d hoped would make our working lives a little simpler. By then, we felt we’d done enough investigating. It’s easy to keep going with these things. You’ve already invested time, learnt the terminology and become surprisingly interested in where a router might live. Another piece of equipment can start to feel like the obvious next step.
We decided to stop.
Starlink may be a very useful solution in the right circumstances. In ours, we couldn’t justify taking the experiment further. The Mini went back into its box, acquired a rather less elegant wrapping of parcel tape, and made the journey to Sotogrande to be returned. There was, we’ll admit, a little relief at ending our brief association with Mr Musk, too.
So here it is: packed up and ready to go. Our backup plan hadn’t worked out, but at least we’d reached a decision.
And we knew exactly where to put the box. The DHL drop off point in Sotogrande.
by Helen | Oct 26, 2026 | Lifestyle
…our Andalucian Life. Covering the things that happen. The things we notice. A week in our lives.
Another week in our little corner of Andalucía. Another seven days in which we’ve managed to experience the ridiculous, the frustrating, the occasionally bewildering and, thankfully, the rather wonderful. Sometimes all before lunchtime.
We run a small website design business, which means that although we live in a beautiful Spanish village, much of our working day is spent dealing with people and businesses elsewhere. Most of the time, it’s a pleasure. Occasionally, however, we find ourselves wondering whether we’ve accidentally wandered into an episode of a particularly surreal television comedy. This week, we finally brought a rather extraordinary business relationship to an end. Without going into details, it involved a remarkable amount of correspondence, some increasingly baffling decisions and the gradual realisation that there are situations in which the most sensible thing you can do is walk away.
And so we did. At precisely midnight, a website quietly disappeared from the internet. No fanfare, no dramatic farewell, just the natural conclusion to a chapter that had probably gone on rather longer than it should. We slept remarkably well,
Meanwhile, our attempts to change our internet and mobile phone provider have developed into something resembling a long running television series. We’ve now corresponded with so many different people that we’re beginning to wonder whether the company employs anyone who has actually read the previous emails. We’ve explained what we want, received assurances that everything is straightforward, been offered various arrangements and then found ourselves explaining the whole thing again to someone new. Our one consistent request has been that everything should be confirmed in writing.
This appears to be an unusually challenging concept. At one point, we were asked when would be a convenient time for someone to telephone us. By email. And then, just when we thought we’d encountered every possible member of the customer service department, along came Natali. From Málaga. A real person, apparently, who introduced herself and offered to take personal responsibility for overseeing the whole process. Wonderful, we thought. Someone relatively local, taking charge. Perhaps we were finally getting somewhere. And then she asked us to email our security information and card details. By ordinary email. After weeks of trying to establish a clear, properly documented arrangement, we were now being invited to send sensitive personal and financial information through one of the least appropriate channels imaginable. We politely declined.
Natali, meanwhile, remains very much part of the production. Whether she’ll eventually guide us across the finishing line or simply introduce us to another member of the cast remains to be seen. At this point, we’re half expecting the entire customer service department to assemble for a curtain call when the fibre is finally installed. Assuming, of course, that it ever is.
And while we’re on the subject of television series, our actual television continues to provide entertainment of an entirely unintended kind. We have two television boxes, several ways of accessing the same service and an increasingly impressive understanding of technical terminology that we never particularly wanted to acquire. Programmes occasionally freeze, sound disappears, and some channels seem to operate according to their own mysterious timetable. We’ve spent hours testing equipment, comparing connections, changing settings and corresponding with our provider. We have, however, established one thing beyond reasonable doubt. It’s not Netflix.
Elsewhere, our ongoing dealings with a Spanish bank and its associated insurance company continue to demonstrate that asking a perfectly reasonable question doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll receive a perfectly reasonable answer. We’ve been attempting to obtain accurate information about our house insurance for some time now. The process has involved incorrect property details, missing documentation, formal complaints and an impressive collection of emails. The latest developments suggest that someone may finally be investigating the matter.
We’re cautiously optimistic, although experience has taught us not to become too excited until we’ve actually seen the evidence. In the meantime, we’ll continue paying the premiums. The last thing we need is another complication. And that’s quite enough bureaucracy for one week.
Back in the house, we’ve been turning our attention to winter. Not that you’d necessarily know it was approaching, given that our ceiling fans are still running towards the end of October. The days remain beautifully warm, although the mornings and evenings are beginning to remind us that the seasons are changing. Our old Andalucian townhouse has no central heating, so keeping it comfortable through the cooler months requires a little thought. We’ve been experimenting with timers, smart bulbs, plugs, heaters and various ways of managing temperature and humidity. Which has led to a rather humbling discovery. Our house is becoming considerably smarter than we are. For years, we’ve operated our dehumidifiers using what we believed was a perfectly adequate system. Press the ON button, leave them running, empty the water tanks and repeat. It turns out that these machines have other functions. Quite a few, actually. They can be programmed to maintain a particular humidity level, adjust their operation accordingly and, most astonishingly, switch themselves off when they’ve finished doing what they’re supposed to do. We’ve now set them to maintain humidity at around 55%, and for several days they’ve been doing precisely that. Without running continuously. A revelation. Particularly when we think about last winter’s electricity bills.
We’ve also been programming lights to come on and go off automatically, fitting smart plugs to lamps and introducing little devices that tell us the temperature and humidity in different rooms. The house is gradually learning to look after itself. Its owners, meanwhile, are still learning how to operate the house.
Our website design business has been getting a little bit of a refresh. After much consideration, we’ve simplified our branding, refined the colours and typography and said goodbye to a rather lovely little stork who, despite our affection for her, no longer quite belonged. Not every design idea makes the final cut, even when you love it. Sometimes knowing what to leave out is just as important as knowing what to include. Less is more. Something we keep reminding ourselves.
And there have been lovely moments on the work front, too. A particularly appreciative message from a client whose new website is almost complete reminded us why we enjoy what we do. When someone genuinely loves what you’ve created for them, it makes all the difference. Not every working day involves navigating the absurd. Thankfully.
And then, quite unexpectedly, our week took a rather beautiful turn. Almost two years ago, I downloaded an app called Sky Tonight. I thought it might be interesting, given the enormous expanse of sky above our roof terrace. And then promptly forgot about it. Until now, when I finally opened it properly and began exploring. After a little fiddling with settings and location, I discovered that by simply pointing my phone towards the sky, I could begin identifying the stars, planets and constellations above us. The screen moved as I moved. Names appeared. Constellations took shape. Suddenly, that enormous sky we’d spent so many evenings admiring became something we could begin to understand. And I haven’t even taken it onto the roof terrace yet.
There’s something rather wonderful about discovering a completely new interest in something that’s been right above your head all along. For nearly two years, the app had been sitting quietly on my phone, waiting to be explored. And for much longer than that, the night sky has been there, waiting to be noticed in a different way.
So, after a week of websites disappearing, television pictures freezing, emails multiplying, insurance mysteries continuing and household appliances revealing previously unsuspected talents, we’ve ended up looking towards something infinitely bigger than all of it. The universe, no less. And suddenly, the frustrations of the week seem rather small. There’s a whole new world to discover above our little Andalucian house. We just have to remember to look up.
A Week in the Life of… From the utterly absurd to the unexpectedly beautiful. And everything in between. ✨
by Helen | Oct 20, 2026 | Spain, Travel
Beautifully restored architecture, peaceful courtyards and a little understated luxury in the heart of Marbella’s old town.
Marbella is a place that can conjure up all sorts of images, not all of them particularly appealing to us. But its old town is another story altogether. Whitewashed buildings, wrought-iron balconies, narrow streets, little squares and bougainvillea tumbling over walls. It’s a beautiful part of Andalucía, and tucked away on Plaza Santo Cristo is a hotel that we were very fortunate to experience.
La Fonda Heritage Hotel is, quite simply, one of the loveliest places we’ve stayed.
I should say from the outset that this isn’t a budget hotel. Far from it. Our stay was a very generous treat from friends who were visiting, and although we weren’t paying for the room ourselves, we certainly appreciated what a special experience it was. It’s somewhere I’d happily recommend for an occasion, a celebration or simply a few days of being thoroughly spoilt. As with many hotels in this part of Spain, staying outside the busiest season can make the price considerably more appealing.
a beautiful building with quite a history
One of the things that makes La Fonda so special is the building itself, or rather, the collection of historic buildings that make up the hotel. Its story stretches back centuries, with the site having served various purposes before becoming a hotel in the 1960s. It later gained a reputation as a fashionable Marbella meeting place, and its restaurant held a Michelin star from 1978 until 1995.
After years of neglect, the buildings underwent an extensive restoration, during which remarkable architectural features were uncovered and preserved. Ancient walls, arches, frescoes and courtyards have all become part of the hotel’s new life, alongside contemporary design and furnishings. It’s now part of Relais & Châteaux, a collection of distinctive hotels with an emphasis on character, hospitality and a genuine sense of place. Having stayed there, I can understand why.
first impressions
From the outside, La Fonda is everything I love about traditional Andalusian architecture. Whitewashed walls, dark wrought iron, substantial wooden doors and shutters, with beautiful greenery in large pots softening the whole building. We were renovating our own house at the time, so naturally I was taking mental notes before we’d even made it through the entrance.
Inside, the attention to detail is wonderful. Rather than walking straight into a conventional hotel reception, you find yourself in a space that feels much more like an exceptionally beautiful home. Comfortable sofas, inviting chairs, carefully chosen furniture, objects, textures and soft lighting all contribute to a feeling of quiet elegance.
There are high ceilings, arches and ceramic tiled floors, with contemporary furnishings sitting comfortably alongside the building’s Moorish and Andalusian influences. Nothing feels overdone, and despite being right in the heart of Marbella’s old town, the atmosphere is wonderfully peaceful. It’s the sort of place where you immediately begin to relax.
courtyards, greenery and a room to remember
Our room overlooked the courtyard garden at the rear of the hotel, which was every bit as lovely as the interiors. There were different little areas for sitting, relaxing, eating or enjoying a drink, surrounded by generous planting and beautiful pots. And there was a lush green wall, which made us smile, as we’d had something similar at our house in Istria.
Inside, our room was just as carefully considered. A large, wonderfully comfortable bed, crisp white monogrammed linen and all those little details that make staying somewhere special feel like a genuine treat.
And then there was the bathroom. I’ve always loved white metro tiles, and this bathroom had them in abundance. We’d used them with black grout in our house in West Didsbury, much to the delight of our builder, and were considering something similar for our new home in Andalucía. The shower had black Crittall-style doors, another feature we’d already decided upon for our the ground floor of our house, so it was rather lovely to see the combination working so beautifully.
Pristine white sanitary ware, black accents, fluffy robes, slippers and gorgeous toiletries completed the picture. Everything felt luxurious without being ostentatious, which is quite a difficult balance to achieve.
breakfast, olive oil and a little more indulgence
Breakfast was à la carte and every bit as good as we’d hoped. Eggs cooked however you liked them, hams, cheeses, breads, preserves, juices and excellent coffee. Beautifully presented, delicious and served without any sense of hurry.
The hotel also sells its own olive oil, which was always going to be a temptation for me. I have a particular weakness for beautifully bottled olive oils, and this one came home with us. Happily, it tasted every bit as good as it looked.
As well as the hotel’s restaurant and rooftop bar, there’s La Bodega de la Fonda, a cosy restaurant just across the square. It’s a more informal option, serving Spanish favourites such as tortilla, croquettes, meatballs and Iberian ham, with the added pleasure of sitting in one of the prettiest little corners of the old town.
somewhere worth treating yourself to
What stayed with me most about La Fonda wasn’t any single feature, although there were plenty to admire. It was the feeling of the place. The restoration is beautiful, the interiors are thoughtful, the setting is wonderful and everything works together to create somewhere that feels genuinely special. There’s a sense of calm and comfort that you don’t always find, even in expensive hotels.
It’s certainly a treat rather than an everyday overnight stop, and I’d suggest looking at dates outside the main holiday season if you’re hoping to make it a little more affordable. But for a special occasion, or simply because you fancy staying somewhere rather lovely, La Fonda would be very high on my list.
And if, like me, you enjoy beautiful buildings, considered interiors and a hotel that feels connected to its surroundings, you may find yourself taking rather a lot of photographs. Possibly even of the bathroom tiles.
by Helen | Oct 20, 2026 | Lifestyle
There are certain things in life that ought to be simple. Turning on a light, for example. And yet, somehow, we managed to turn this most straightforward of activities into something of a technological endurance test.
When we were renovating the house, we bought some smart light bulbs for the bedrooms. The idea was appealing enough. Beautiful, warm lighting, adjustable to suit the time of day, and the possibility of having the lights come on automatically in the evening. All very clever. All very straightforward.
Or so we thought…
The bulbs were installed. The app was downloaded. Instructions were followed. Instructions were followed again. There was some discussion, a certain amount of sighing, and eventually a collective throwing up of hands. Pete has patience. I have considerably less. And so, for quite some time, our supposedly smart bulbs remained rather ordinary bulbs. They illuminated the bedrooms when we pressed the switches, and that was that.
Until this week…
For reasons I can’t entirely explain, we decided to revisit the whole business. The app in question was Tuya, and after a little account recovery, some experimentation and a considerably more successful attempt at connecting everything, we discovered something rather remarkable. The bulbs actually worked. Not only could we turn them on and off from our phones, but we could adjust their brightness and change the warmth of the light. And, most importantly, we could set a schedule.
Every evening, at nine o’clock, the bedroom lights now will come on. At midnight, they will switch themselves off.
No intervention required. No wandering upstairs to switch things on. Just a little pool of warm light appearing exactly
when we’d asked it to. Of course, there is one small detail. The wall switches need to remain on. An entirely reasonable requirement, but one that will take a little getting used to when you’ve spent your entire life switching lights off as you leave a room.
And then came the moment of truth. We were supposed to check at nine o’clock that evening to see whether our carefully programmed schedule had worked. Naturally, we forgot. At twenty to ten, we suddenly remembered, went upstairs and found the bedrooms beautifully illuminated. They’d done it. All by themselves.
And the really lovely thing was that the lighting was exactly what we’d hoped for when we first bought the bulbs. Soft, warm and welcoming. The kind of light that makes a room feel particularly inviting on an autumn evening. And so, after months of neglect, our supposedly smart bulbs have finally earned their name. Every evening, at nine o’clock, the bedrooms will quietly illuminate themselves. At midnight, the lights will go out. Absolutely no intervention required.
A small thing, perhaps. But as the evenings grow darker and the house begins to settle into its autumn rhythms, it feels lovely. And now that we’ve discovered what a little technology can do, we’re beginning to wonder what else might be possible…
But that’s a story for another day.
by Helen | Oct 17, 2026 | France, Travel
An unexpectedly lovely hotel overlooking Place d’Assas, in a French city we knew very little about. If only we’d arrived a couple of days earlier…
One of the loveliest things about our late summer road trip through France was discovering places we knew very little about. We’d visited Paris several times over the years, but beyond the capital, our knowledge of France was surprisingly limited. Nîmes was one of those places. We knew it had an impressive Roman history, with an extraordinary collection of ancient monuments, but that was about the extent of our knowledge. So, when we arrived on a Tuesday afternoon and discovered that our hotel overlooked a beautiful, tree-lined square surrounded by bars and restaurants, we were feeling rather pleased with ourselves. It looked as though we’d landed in exactly the right place. Unfortunately, our timing was spectacularly bad…
nîmes : a city recovering from a very big party
What we hadn’t realised was that we’d arrived immediately after an extended weekend of celebrations marking the inclusion of the Maison Carrée on the UNESCO World Heritage List. There had been music, street food, fireworks, parties and all manner of festivities. The whole city had apparently been celebrating, and by the time we arrived, everyone seemed to have decided that a couple of days’ rest was thoroughly deserved. Which meant that all those fabulous-looking bars and restaurants we’d been admiring were closed.
Everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.
We eventually found a lovely Italian restaurant, so dinner was rescued, and we managed to see some of the city’s remarkable Roman architecture. But it was rather amusing to discover that we’d arrived in Nîmes just as Nîmes had decided it needed a holiday. Fortunately, we’d booked a hotel that turned out to be something of a destination in its own right.
le royal hôtel : a little different from the ordinary
The Royal Hôtel occupies a former nineteenth-century cloister on the edge of Place d’Assas, just a short walk from the Maison Carrée. It’s a beautiful old building, full of character, and the renovation has been handled with a lovely balance of traditional features and contemporary design. There’s nothing particularly predictable about the interiors, which is exactly what appealed to us. The communal spaces have a slightly quirky, boutique feel, with interesting artwork, unexpected details and a sense that someone has actually thought about the atmosphere they wanted to create. It feels relaxed rather than formal, stylish without being precious, and quite different from the rather anonymous hotels that can make travelling feel a little interchangeable. We liked it immediately.
We’d booked a superior double room, and it was enormous. There was plenty of space to spread out, a very generous bathroom and an excellent walk-in shower, which is always appreciated after a day spent travelling. But the real delight was the view. Our room had huge shuttered windows overlooking Place d’Assas, a wonderfully elegant square filled with mature trees, fountains and sculptures. I have a particular affection for cities that value their trees, allowing them to grow and flourish rather than regarding them as something to be regularly chopped down or severely pruned. And this square was a beautiful example of just how much they contribute to a city. Looking out through those enormous windows, with the rooftops and architecture beyond, it was difficult not to feel rather delighted with our choice of hotel. Even if the restaurants below were resolutely refusing to open…
interesting interiors & a sense of humour
One of the things we particularly enjoyed about the Royal Hôtel was its artwork. The corridors and staircases were filled with playful, sometimes unexpected pieces, giving the hotel a personality of its own. There was a photograph of The Rolling Stones, suitably dressed as matadors, looking ready to visit the city bullring, alongside other artwork that gave the interiors a contemporary edge. It’s the kind of detail that can make an enormous difference to a hotel. Rather than simply providing somewhere to sleep, the building becomes part of the experience. And in a city with such an extraordinary architectural history, it felt particularly appropriate that an old building had been given a new lease of life without losing its character.
breakfast at the royal hôtel
Breakfast was included in our room rate and was served in a lovely dining room, which seemed to double as an informal working space. A couple of people were already settled at tables with their laptops when we arrived. Rather than a buffet, breakfast was presented individually on trays, with fresh croissants, bread, muesli, yoghurt, fruit, preserves and other little accompaniments. It was simple, beautifully presented and rather clever. The individually packaged items presumably helped avoid unnecessary waste, as anything unopened could potentially be used again. There was certainly more than enough food for us, and with plenty of coffee available, it was a very pleasant way to begin the day. Nothing overly elaborate, but thoughtfully done. Which, when I think about it, rather sums up the hotel itself.
exploring the roman city of nîmes
Although our timing meant that we didn’t experience Nîmes at its liveliest, we did manage to see some of the architecture for which the city is so well known.
The Maison Carrée is an extraordinarily well-preserved Roman temple, built around two thousand years ago, and it’s quite something to encounter a building of that age in the middle of a modern French city. Then there’s the Arena of Nîmes, another remarkable survivor from the Roman period, which continues to be used for events and performances. Unfortunately, bullfighting is still among them, something I find particularly difficult to reconcile with the beauty and history of the building.
The Pont du Gard, the spectacular Roman aqueduct outside the city, is another of the region’s great historical landmarks, although we didn’t visit it on this occasion.
What struck us most was how much history is woven into the everyday fabric of Nîmes. These aren’t simply isolated monuments tucked away behind gates; they’re part of the city’s identity. And having arrived knowing relatively little about the place, we left wishing we’d had more time to explore. Preferably when everything was open.
A city worth returning to…
We found the Royal Hôtel to be excellent value for money, beautifully located and full of the kind of character we particularly appreciate. Our room was spacious and comfortable, the interiors were interesting without trying too hard, and the setting overlooking Place d’Assas was absolutely lovely. It was also an excellent base for exploring the historic centre, with some of the city’s most important Roman monuments within easy walking distance.
Of course, our experience dates from September 2023, so room rates, facilities and breakfast arrangements may have changed since our visit. But the things that made it memorable – the building, the location and the character of the interiors – are what I’d look for again.
As for Nîmes, I think we owe it another visit. We saw enough to know that it’s a beautiful city, but not quite enough to feel that we’d properly experienced it. Arriving immediately after one of its biggest celebrations was unfortunate, although it did give us a story to tell. And perhaps there’s something rather nice about leaving a place knowing that you’d happily return. Next time, though, I might check the local calendar before booking.
