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It was August
1999, whilst on holiday with my parents Jan and Pete
Saunders at their holiday villa in Los Romanos that we
made the impulsive decision that would change our lives
for ever. My parents had decided to sell up in England
and retire to Spain and were looking for a more suitable
home to begin their new life. We had accompanied them on
their house hunting trips and had fallen in love with an
old farm, with land and fruit trees. We started to dream
about a simple life in rural Spain, living off the land,
free of the stresses and strains of modern living and
with a healthier environment for our children to grow up
in. Clive’s mum, Janet, had been living in Canillas de
Aceituno for about 18 years, so we were very familiar
with this part of Spain. With both sets of parents
living here it suddenly seemed the obvious thing to do –
we would move here too!
On 17th December 1999 we were on our way, having sold
our house, folded up Clive’s engineering business and
packed all our possessions into a removal lorry. We set
off on our adventure, after waving goodbye to all our
friends, towing our caravan packed with all Clive’s
precious bonsai trees, the kids and our African grey
parrot Oscar in the back of the car. Our cat, Simba was
already at my parents house in Spain, having flown on
ahead!
Two days later we were winding our way up the mountain
road to Canillas de Aceituno, and squeezing our caravan
through the narrow streets. Finally we arrived at
Sedella, where my parents were waiting to welcome us to
their new home. We were here at last, starting our new
life, with no house or job and barely two words of
Spanish between us – were we mad?
Christmas was great, with all the family together and
the feeling of anticipation for our life ahead. The
Millenium eve was spent typically Spanish style in a
freezing restaurant with our coats over our finery! Then
real life had to begin. The kids started school in
Canillas, the first English children and welcomed with
open arms. John, then 12 found it difficult to start
with, but Harry, 11 and Elizabeth,9 loved it and within
two days they were all settled and happy and had made
lots of friends. The teachers were fantastic and the
kids picked up the language immediately and were soon
inviting their new friends home to play. The process of
enrolling them in a Spanish school was easy – there
seems to be very little official paperwork. We had their
English school records and reports translated into
Spanish before we came, but to be honest they didn’t
seem to be required and I doubt if they have even been
looked at!
Clive started work building and landscaping for the
local English community, and to this day, 6 years later,
he has never been without work. All that was left on our
list was to buy a house! Clive’s mum had seen a house
whilst property hunting with a friend. It was in the
campo, outside a village called Villanueva del Trabuco,
on the road to Zafarraya. We had never really been that
way before, other than to pass by on the motorway to go
to the Alhambra palace or skiing in the Sierra Nevadas.
We set off up the winding mountain road that leads to
Zafarraya, and entered another world. As we came out of
Zafarraya and into the countryside approaching Trabuco
the landscape was so different, so rocky and rugged,
with wild flowers and oak trees. Then the land changed
again, into olive groves and finally there was the farm
house next to the biggest oak tree you’ve ever seen and
with the most spectacular mountain view! We loved it the
minute we stepped out of the car and onto the cobbled
threshing circle. Inside it was everything we wanted,
full of rustic charm, and with not too much work needed!
The many outbuildings and flat field were perfect for
what we wanted to do. We all knew there and then that it
was going to be our home. It reminded us of the
highlands of Scotland, our favorite holiday destination
in Britain.
What luck! The first house we’d viewed and we were in
love! By March we had moved in, the kids were settled
into school in Trabuco, once more the first English
children, and we had made friends with our Spanish
neighbours, who have been like family to us over the
last six years and helped us in so many ways, we
couldn’t have managed without them.
Our new life had begun, not without its teething
troubles and stresses, but easier than we could have
imagined when we first took the gamble!
 So began our tireless struggle to renovate, build,
landscape and generally improve our home. Luckily the
kids were picked up and dropped off by school bus right
outside the door, which meant that I could get my
scruffy clothes on first thing in the morning and work
happily until dark, without interruption. Clive had to
go to work, but once home, would carry on working. We
were, and still are to a certain extent, workaholics,
but we love it. We often had deadlines, if friends were
coming to stay from England, which gave us the incentive
to keep going. (and a much welcomed holiday while they
were here!)
About a month after we arrived we woke up one morning to
find a very sad and bedraggled little dog, shivering in
a stable. Clive at the time wasn’t really a dog person
and told us not to feed it, but gradually we won him
over and we were allowed to keep ‘Paja’ , so named,
because we found her laying in a pile of straw. She was
such a sweet dog and we all came to love her. Our
menagerie had started! After that there were kittens,
and lots more abandoned dogs – once word got around that
we were English we became the unofficial pet dumping
ground. Luckily most of them moved on of their own
accord, but a few have stayed along the way.
Our next animal to arrive was our first horse, Polly.
There was great excitement preparing for her arrival,
cleaning out one of the barns and laying a new concrete
floor, locating straw and feed (thanks again,
neighbours!) The day to collect her at last arrived but
unfortunately the Spanish man we had hired to transport
her got his whip out and started whipping her to get her
into the trailer which got her into such a state that
there was no way she was going in! We were devastated,
what were we going to do? We decided that the only way
to get her home was to ride her, approx 50km from
Sedella, through Alcaucin, Periana, Pulgarin,
Alfarnetejo and finally over the top off our own
mountain and home – what an adventure! John and I took
turns to ride while the others followed in the car with
food and water. It took us 10 hours, but it was an
unforgettable experience. Polly was none the worst for
her long walk and soon settled into her new life. She is
quite a character and over the years, with our ever
growing herd, has maintained her position as ‘boss’.
To be continued…………
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