The Judas doll is just one part of the complex Easter tradition but perhaps the most explosive as those guests of Los Castanos who were brave enough to withstand the noise and joie de vivre of Easter in Cartajima, would attest.

The village men spend all Saturday night dragging foliage up to the village square in preparation for dressing Calle Ancha – “the wide street” – for the denouement that takes place at Sunday midday. The women build a bower with the foliage at one end of the street. The men’s penultimate task is to bring the “chopo” – the highest tree they can find, which is placed in a specially designated hole at the other end of the street. Clear male and female symbolism for this festival which is essentially all about rebirth of the “sun”, spring and fertility.

Before putting their exhausted bodies to bed for a few hours nap, the men perform one final task – they have to choose the subject (or is it object) of the Judas doll and then create it from bits and pieces they find in their pockets and lying around. Packing the Judas with dynamite is the easy bit.

The first year I was here was 2003 and the Judas was Osama bin Laden. The second year the Judas-makers were unable to decide between George Bush and Saddam Hussein. Another year it was David Beckham which surprised me and I had to make inquiries. They said that he had been in the news after having an affair with a Spanish girl.

And so it went on year after year and I have come to understand that the personage selected to be the Judas is not necessarily an object of hatred or ridicule but simply newsworthy.

This Easter it was therefore no surprise to find, when we walked down to Calle Ancha on Easter morning before the ceremony got under way, that the Judas was a Pitufo or Smurf. These small creatures have taken up residence in the next village, Juzcar, four kilometres down the lane. They (or Sony Pictures on their behalf) painted all the houses Smurf blue and every mushroom is occupied.

And are the butt of many a Cartajima joke including being the Judas this year.

The sign around the neck of the Judas translates roughly as “we are sick and tired of Smurfs”.

I find it comical that, in the early hours of Easter Sunday, the men went to the entrance of the village and requisitioned the Juzcar road sign to adorn their 2012 creation.

After the Virgin and the Son were reunited, thus ensuring a good growing season, the Judas was dowsed with gasoline and set afire. The rockets implanted in it screamed, banged and exploded for an anxious few minutes while the villagers and visitors were kept well at bay, crouching in alleys and huddling behind the orange trees that line Calle Ancha.

An intriguing postscript to this event is that last summer a group of local boys got into big big trouble with the Guardia Civil and their parents and the whole world because they moved traffic cones across the junction at the end of the village. A prank that I thought funny but the rest of the world took extremely seriously. But grown men (including Mr Mayor Sir) stealing a roadsign (also find very funny and innovative) attracts no attention from the authorities – which is OK – but I don’t think they should have been so hard on the youngsters.

Apparently it is a worldwide treasure hunt that everybody knows about and in which a sub-set participate. If, like me, you are one of the last people on the planet to learn about it, let me explain.

Players of this “real-world outdoor treasure hunting game” use their GPS-device to find geocaches or hidden objects, which are all mapped on the worldwide geocaching site. Upon their return home, afficionados record their experiences on the site.

One might enquire “so what’s the point?” But, our Belgian guests, who have been playing since the game began in 2003, use geocaching as a basis for their holidays all over the world. When planning their holiday in Andalucia, they identified the Serrania de Ronda as a geocache-rich area; every day they explored a different part of the Serrania in search of caches and, in so doing, became intimate with this beautiful part of Andalucia.

Embracing the idea with enthusiasm, we accepted our guests’ kind offer to help us lay our first cache in the Alto Genal on the new trail around Los Riscos. An empty Body Shop Mango Butter container was declared perfect – small, watertight, easy to conceal. Under their direction, we printed out the tiny log book where geocachers would record finding our cache. We searched the bits-and-pieces drawers for small treasures to include. Our geocaching experts added some traceable coins – items they had taken from one cache to leave in another. The journey of these traceables around the world is recorded on the geocaching site.

Next job was to find a suitable place to hide the cache. “El Aguila”, a marvellous eagle-shaped rock formation in the Riscos, came to mind so the expedition set forth. We found a suitable hiding place in the clearing near the Aguila and, with Philippe’s help, figured out the exact global position of our cache. Upon our return to the hotel, we published it on the geocaching website. Then we waited in anticipation to see if anybody would come a-geocaching in search of our cache. Was it too well-hidden? Or too easy to find? Doubts plagued us.

It was a thrilling moment when, just days later, we received an email saying somebody had found it! One geocacher suggested we should place another on the same route to make it even more exciting for the seekers. So, if you happen to have a Body Shop Mango Butter container that you don’t want, do bring it with you on your next visit to Los Castanos! Thanks!

One of these mad moments seized me on Valentine’s Day. I decide to prepare five courses of untried recipes. Madness, you might say, but, for me, thrilling!

We started with a baba ganoush with crispy, crunchy crudités. I have made this tasty aubergine salad before but not to a recipe by Yotam Ottolenghi, a non-vegetarian who does wonderful things with vegetables. One of the delights of his version is the inclusion of pomegranite molasses and pomegranite seeds.

The dinner began with a butternut squash soup laced with coconut milk and with a pesto sprinkle – this was a recipe given to me by a Spanish guest. He assured me it was a divine combination and indeed it was.

My daughter created the next simple combination of avocado and langoustines, flavoured with mint and lime. Really good. And I had fun trying to figure out the decoration too.

The main dish was my take on cassoulet: confit of duck leg roasted till crispy and served with white beans flavoured with chorizo and morcilla. My guests raved about it and the combination of a sweet potato puree and redcurrant salsa.

Lovers and chocolate are inextricable so I made a tart of paté sucrée filled with apricots and a chocolate mousse. I made one extra so the kitchen could see how it turned out. It disappeared rapidly.

And so to bed.

The important thing is the quality of the ingredients – the olive oil must be the purest you can get, the prawns, whether large or small, must be super fresh, the paprika ideally should be ahumado or smoked.

It is easy so go ahead and try it and let me know how you get on!

The almonds are just out in the Alto Genal valley, their gentle white and pink flowers contrasting sharply with the wiry bare branches of the figtrees. Harbinger of spring, the almond is always the first to blossom and interestingly the last nut to be harvested. Although my research informs me that the almond is not a nut, but a drupe.

This year the annual almond explosion took me by surprise as we are still waiting for winter to happen and I was inspired to research the origin of this so-called drupe.

The twisted bare branches of a fig tree

In Spanish, all words beginning with the Arabic article, al-, were contributed by the Islamic Exchange that took place after the Arabs invaded Spain in 711. Luxury items such as alfombra (carpet), almohada (pillow), practical ideas such as algibe (water deposit), scientific words such as álgebra and alquimia. The Arabs brought with them foods that have become staples in Spain and the Mediterranean in general: rice, oranges and lemons, courgettes and aubergines, saffron and cinnamon, dates and, naturally, almonds.

I have always believed that almonds came with the Arabs on the basis of the al-, but my research proved me wrong. I found that the word in fact comes from Greek and the “ell” is excrescent which means it is abnormal and unjustifiable. Fancy!

Almonds are a common feature of Spanish cuisine from the aperitif almonds sauteed with paprika (delicious with a glass of fino) to a hearty pork in almond sauce that is made here in Cartajima.

And, of course, these little drupes are incredibly good for us. So, next time you are in Cartajima at Los Castaños, just let me know you have read this and are interested in sampling some almond fare and I will be happy to oblige.

We walked up to the mirador to catch the last of the sun in the late afternoon yesterday. The chestnut trees have lost their leaves but the sun continues to shine.

December in Cartajima

Having been the one in charge of food every Christmas of my adult life, I decided this year upon an unprecedented and unanimous break with tradition – we would go out for our Christmas Lunch. The food was naturally not as good as at home but the absence of worry, preparation and washing-up more than compensated. We took before and after pictures so you can appreciate just how relaxed we were!! Happy New Year from Los Castanos in Cartajima!

Before

After!

Unlike previous solar experiments, cobbled together from bits and pieces that John found in his pockets, the new solar panels gracing the roof of Los Castanos were purchased ready-made. Their  neo-industrial look contrasts delightfully with the backdrop of the ochre pantile roofed village houses, the stunning mountains peaking through the tubes, and the quaint old-fashioned TV aerials!

A solar thermal collector is almost as common a feature of Spanish roofs as the television aerial. World leader in producing renewable energy, Spain began its innovative policy after the 1979 fuel crisis with an initiative accounting for Spain’s world domination of sustainable fuel production. The law aimed to encourage energy savings and decrease dependence upon others.

Well done, España!

I first visited the Sierra one cold winter’s day in the company of a park ranger. He showed us the secrets of this stunning protected area which has won many awards: a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, a Nature Reserve, a Special Protection Area for Birds (SPA), and a Site of Community Importance (SCI).

Whilst I was wearing everything cashmere that I owned, the ranger appeared cosy in just an open-neck shirt. When he showed us the ruin of his childhood home deep in the sierra, his hardiness was no longer surprising.

He took us to see an enormous pinsapo pine, a species of spruce that only grows here and in northern Morocco. This giant was estimated to be between 350 and 500 years old. 5 metres diameter, 26 metres high, a monster that shades 200 square metres. The people of the Sierra have a legend that a generous and hospitable woman used to live on the spot where the tree grows. Her dedication to helping travellers continued after her death for the pinsapo grew here to be a guiding landmark for travellers.

Not just big trees but, our guide told us, one of the largest populations of wild goat in Andalucia, deep and spectacular gorges such as the Caina with a 1,100 metre drop, mountain peaks up to 1,919m, and potholes aplenty.

It is staggering the varied ways people have interacted with this apparently difficult environment – our ranger friend told us about the traditional crafts: the ice-makers, charcoal burners, lime-workers, shepherds, and farmers. Check out this page for lots of information about the Sierra.

A later trip some years later was in glorious blue-skied Spring. We were crafting a hike in the Sierra for our walking guests and discovered another extraordinary if chilling facet of the Nieves. At the end of a rather well-made piece of track, we found a tumbledown circle of rocks. Research revealed that the front line in the Civil War for six months had been the road from the coast to Ronda. From the rubble of rocks, we looked directly down on the road far below. The perfect place from which to control the whole area.

Whilst the scars of that terrible war remain on the ground, the only creatures spying down on the road nowadays are the majestic griffon vultures.

The annual Mosto Festival in Cartajima. Whilst the wine is not so great, the party is! And the accommodation we offer is of course second to none. Combine the Festival on the 26th November with a visit to a fine Ronda vineyard (now that’s a lovely wine!), untouristy delightful local restaurants, bracing walks in the Alto Genal Valley.

Peter Jones, renowned ornithologist, is offering 3-day winter birding breaks – please ask for a special rate if you are joining him on one of his tours. Click here for more information or ask me  – http://www.spanishnature.com/component/content/article/1-birding-days-serrania-de-ronda/170-winter-breaks-day-tours.html

Pujerra, one of the seven little villages in the Alto Genal, celebrates with gusto the chestnut harvest on 29th and 30th October.

Juzcar, the blue pueblo blanco, is hosting the annual conference on mushrooms – well, edible fungi in general – on 11th, 12th and 13th November. Contact me for more information or check out this page – http://www.juzcar.com/?p=1620

If you would like any further information about any of these events, just write us a note and we will be pleased to help.

You will pass by the town as you drive to Los Castanos on the A92 but will probably not be ready for a stop so soon after your departure – Santa Fe is just 11 km west of Granada. And, frankly, Santa Fe pales after the splendours of the Alhambra so allow me to tell you about it.

A slight digression from my story to recall the history of Spain in one sentence or less. You will remember that Islamic people from north Africa, aka the Moors, invaded in 711, spread rapidly throughout the Iberian peninsula, sparking off the Christian reconquista. Centuries of religious war in Spain came to an end in Andalucia 700 years later.

Granada was the last Islamic stronghold and the Catholic Kings, aka Los Reyes Catolicos aka Ferdinand and Isabel, camped with their armies on the site of Santa Fe in 1491.. It was from here that they planned and launched the final assault on the city, the conquering of which would complete the reconquest of Spain.

They called the place Santa Fe, which symbolised for them the crusade against Islam. The original town plan has been retained – a cross formed by four streets meeting in a central square, each arm of the cross ending with a city gate.

Spain’s conquest is celebrated in a gruesome sculpture atop the church in the central square – Tarfe, the decapitated head of the eponymous Moor killed by a Spanish conquistador and symbol of Christian dominance. Interestingly the third century Santa Fe or Saint Faith suffered the same fate and was declared a martyr by virtue of having been “cooked and then beheaded”.

And the second fifteen minutes of fame for Santa Fe? It was while the Catholic Kings were camped here overseeing the attack on Granada that Christopher Columbus came to beg one more time for support to take those three little ships westwards to discover the Americas. They agreed in the hope that Spain would thus corner the spice market.

The fiesta celebrating Las Capitulaciones de Santa Fe (the signing of the document funding Columbus’ voyage) is in April so if you are en route to the Alto Genal in Spring, check out when the festival is on the town’s website

When rumours of Sony Pictures’ idea to paint Juzcar blue were whispered in the narrow alleys of the Alto Genal villages, I confess to being somewhat disgruntled that our mayor had not been more proactive in seeking ways to promote our village, Cartajima.

But, when I see what has happened to Juzcar – the crowds and mindlessness of it all – I am pleased we remain pristine and off the beaten track. How sad that prosperity comes at such a price. How interesting that people will travel miles just to see the blue walls of Juzcar. How illuminating that a simple gesture by a multinational corporation has such an effect on a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. How tragic that people will come to this quiet valley for a movie sensation but not for the nourishing peace of the mountains, the sweet chestnut forests, and the gentle traditional villagers.

Whilst the peace may no longer be available in Juzcar, Cartajima remains untouched by it all.

The venta’s owner, Antonio, turned up just as our photographic work was finished. Laden with the morning’s shopping – buckets of shellfish for the lunch menu and bags of fresh bread – he fired up the expresso machine and toasted our molletes, smiling the while – a man who loves his life.

So then I had to photograph the Andalucian breakfast with the beauties of old Ronda in the background: toasted bread rubbed with garlic, anointed with virgin olive oil, doused in squashed tomatoes and sprinkled with sea salt. Cup of fresh coffee. Beautiful view. Fresh morning air. Heaven.

At Los Castaños, breakfast is a more northern European affair. Our Spanish guests always are amazed by what our international guests eat. The thought of cereal, yogurt, eggs is unthinkable. Most surprising for us is that the rich juice from the oranges that Spain produces in such quantities and the glorious fresh fruit that abounds here in sunny Spain, does not seem to appeal to the locals. The primary schools even have a day each week when the pupils HAVE to bring fruit for their midday snack rather than the bread roll usually consumed – with a chocolate bar tucked inside!

Both the bravado and the bulls are personified in the Osborne bulls, enormous black creatures that glare over the Spanish countryside. The fourteen-meter high silhouettes were erected in 1956 to advertise Osborne brandy but, when the 1988 law forbade any roadside hoardings, the government ordered them to be removed within a year.

A nationwide protest followed this attempt to destroy what had become the unofficial emblem of Spain. An early example of people power, the supreme court held in 1997 that the bulls were to remain but without advertising the Osborne name.

Spanish roadside bull

There are ninety-one bulls proudly guarding the roads of Spain. Only two still bear the Osborne name. To search them all out would be an amusing way to explore this lovely country. Should you have a notion to do so, the Osborne site would help.

I once engaged in a similar quest in the United States where roadtrips can be long and often unpunctuated by castles asking to be explored. To relieve the boredom on one such adventure, I began a collection of number plates from the fifty united States. It took a year and the last six months were spent looking for the last state, Rhode Island.

However, we have to reveal that Anna Smith is a frequent guest of ours. You may not have heard of her yet, but you will! The first novel of her Rosie Gilmour series, The Dead Won’t Sleep, has just been published to great acclaim. And we are proud to have afforded Anna the peace and quiet a writer needs to work on the third book in the Rosie series.

The Dead Won't Sleep

The main character, Rosie Gilmour, is a lot like Anna – a spunky, out-spoken journalist who is passionate about uncovering corruption wherever she finds it. But, no hard-bitten hack, Rosie and Anna have soft centres. Her vulnerability creates nail-biting conflict.

It is a veritable page-turner, an unputdownable sort of book and fans are screaming for the second in the series which is with her publisher and will be released next year. The Dead Won’t Sleep is a great read at any time of the year but perfect for your summer holiday. You can borrow our autographed copy when you visit Los Castaños or buy it from Amazon!

Anna at Los Castaños

Let me know how you enjoy it!

Here’s an article from the Montreal Gazette of all things, AND with this picture by Reuters! A Reuters photographer was here. WOW!

It was no secret in these parts that the Gaddafi family owned an enormous tract of land between our valley and the Costa del Sol with frequent attempts to get permission for too many houses. Thank you, Spanish Government, for pulling the plug on that little enterprise. Not in My Back Yard, thank you!!

Tomorrow, the 16th June, all the children in the valley are being taken to Juzcar, dressed up in Smurf costumes and paraded in the now summer temperatures through the streets, playing games, face-painting and a host of other activities. Hope their costumes are made for this climate and they don’t melt inside them!

Come and check out this extraordinary turn of events. Or wait till September when peace will once more reign supreme in the Alto Genal Valley.

The original inference of romeria was a pilgrimage to Rome which was, of course, de rigueur but here in Cartajima they see no need to go so far. Just down the road and up the hill to the mirador, with its lovely view back to the village.

After a special mass, an icon of Jesus is processed out of the church, through the village, and up to the picnic spot accompanied by a coro rociero*. Duty done, they pop him in a shady hedge and get on the with dancing, dining and drinking which is why they came. Each family goes the day before to mark out their spot and erect a caseta where the family hangs out, receiving visits from other families, preparing paella and other traditional picnic fare.

After dark, Jesus is taken back to the church accompanied by fireworks, rockets, cheers and not a little shouting and laughing.

My guests who went yesterday to the picnic, commented that they felt welcomed into the relaxed and happy multigenerational party and privileged to be made unreservedly welcome. Nice. Thank you, Cartajima!

* The most famous of the Spanish romerias is El Rocio near Huelva, after which are named choirs of women, dressed in trajes de gitana (colourful, flounced dresses) singing lively sacred songs. For more information about this pilgrimage, try this

It turns out that, in northern Spain, gachas are made from the dreaded lathyrus sativus or grass pea which is grown in most parts of the world as animal food. One of the earliest crops to be domesticated and the hardiest legume, it is considered insurance against human hunger as well as animal as it survives when all else has succumbed to drought or pests.

But paradoxically, almorta, as it is called in Spanish, destroys the very lives it saves.

Victims of famine eat what they can to stay alive. The grass pea is there and is high in protein so under such circumstances it becomes the staff of life. But, when consumed more than occasionally, it causes neurolathyrism – a horribly debiliating illness that affects the central nervous system, paralysing and crippling.

In January, 1944, almorta flour was banned in Spain after the horrors of the civil war, not least of which was famine.

Similarly in the Napoleonic Wars, in common with all wars just or unjust, disgusting atrocities were committed by all sides. And the grass pea was a major player in that tragedy.

Goya documented the Disastres de la Guerra in a series of etchings and aquatints. Number Fifty-One shows beggars gathering around a cloaked woman sharing a large bowl of gachas. A recumbent figure illustrates the end result of eating the famine food. He calls this etching enigmatically, Gracias a la Almorta! or Thanks to the grass pea!

Thanks to Almorta!

Fascinated as I am by this subject and anxious as I am to keep old traditions alive, I will not be including gachas on the menu at Los Castaños!

For more detailed information, these two links are interesting:

http://www.croptrust.org/main/grasspea.php?itemid=32

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lathyrism

Just one loose bristle in the paintpot, however. It appears the bishop will not give permission for the church to be painted blue. Wonder why? Does he think the Catholic Church will lose credibility? Come on, your excellency, lighten up. Join the joke.

Juzcar church remains lily white

Interestingly, the cemetary has been painted blue so I deduce that it belongs to the village and not to the church.

And yet another even more interesting snippet is that Microsoft did a similar stunt for the launch of Windows 7. They found a little Spanish village called Sietes and painted its windows in Windows colours.

Sietes, the Microsoft 7 Spanish hamlet

*I have no idea why the Smurfs are called pitufos in Spanish. This translates as small bread rolls – see below. Would welcome enlightenment from any of my readers who have a more intimate connection with the little blue creatures.

A Spanish wholewheat pitufo

The pastoral approach to the dangerous Los Riscos

Many of my guests long to explore the area but we always advise against it. There are four ridges and, once you are over the first, it becomes difficult to navigate your way out.

Thanks to the efforts of local organisations, we can now offer our guests a safe introduction to this fascinating landscape. A 2.5 kilometer trail has been inaugurated which is of moderate difficulty and takes about one and a half hours. We walked it last weekend and it is delightful, safe, and magnificently signposted.

Signposting is respectful and unobtrusive

There are sufficient markers to make one feel confident of being on the right track. Just enough information about the landscape to satisfy but not intrude. Extremely discreet and respectful.

The famous Eagle rock

The path goes past the locally famous El Aguila or eagle shaped rock with its outstretched wings.  And many other strange shapes:

Otherworldly rock formations abound

We are thrilled to have such a safe introduction to Los Riscos to offer our guests. And we are very grateful to Juzcar town hall and the other organisations that contributed to this effort. It sets an example to all and leads the drive to increase awareness of the intrinsic value of our beautiful valley.

Picnic and a rest in the shade of a broom tree!

Talking of broom – which was named after which? The tree after the sweeping device or vice versa? hmmm. .

Last night I decided this humble dish was inspiration for something far more exciting. I imagined multiple ingredients  tumbling decadently over and out of the martini glass like a Dutch Golden Age still-life.

Eschewing iceberg lettuce, (who eats that spineless stuff that lines all supermarket shelves in such abundance?), I generously layered purple lettuce and rocket with as many enormous prawns as would fit. There were taste surprises hidden amongst the green: cucumber, pineapple (my extra nod to retro), avocado. The whole was drizzled not so generously with a Greek yogurt and mayonnaise dressing that was barely pink, and topped with a dab of caviar. That old brown bread and butter that traditionally accompanies prawns was replaced with a delicous walnut bread.

It was outrageous! And funny! And extremely tasty.

Have you had a prawn cocktail in the last five years?

I shall however state it simply – THE CHESTNUT TREES ARE GREEN AGAIN!!

Being deciduous, the sweet chestnut trees that fill the valley and after whom Los Castaños is named, shed their leaves every November after a brief but spectacular gold and orange display. All winter they sleep and then, just when your back is turned, they sprout their new foliage. It’s a bit like Eddie Izzard’s pears that remain hard and inedible while you watch but then, as soon as you leave the room, they ripen all at once.

As I gazed out on my new surroundings, I saw soup – rich green with a spoonful of yogurt!

I made a simply delicious combination of leeks and courgettes, sweated in butter for fifteen minutes, simmered in stock till tender, then whizzed into a puree. That is literally all there was to it and the result was lovely. Pureed soups can be boring for the teeth but, with herby croutons, snippets of fried bacon and thin slices of sauteed leek, parsley sprinkles and a dollop of yogurt forming the village in the centre of the soup of trees, there is plenty to tantalise even the most weary of palates. And the final ingredient that really should be kept a secret but hell! life is too short for secrets, is the slices of Brie at the bottom of the bowl which lend a marvellous contrasting texture and taste to the dish.

Divine. Tasty, nutritious, satisfyingly green for a verdant Spring day.

Do you celebrate the return of green to the landscape with a special dish?

The gnarled and ancient vine is sprouting – first step on the road to the Mosto Festival in November.

It is not every day that you have a person called David Cameron for breakfast!

Not that it wasn’t much better before but we have passed all the stringent requirements to become part of this great collection of purveyors of adventure. It was a tough ride with many searching questions but we were approved.

From the beginning of Los Castaños I have been committed to trying to resolve the apparent paradox of providing a luxurious experience for my guests but limiting damage to the community and environment.  The process we have been through with Muchbetteradventures.com, who have a strong ongoing commitment to sustainability, has been fascinating.  I have discovered new ways to be “green” and have been made aware of flaws in my existing systems.

A simple example which, for a person of my immense intelligence, should have been obvious. The pics show wrappings from some ingredients for tonight’s beef and prune tagine. (Mmmmm!) Before becoming muchbetter, I would have chucked it in the bin without a thought – looks like garbage, must be garbage. But now, I take a closer look at every piece of wrapping and more often than not discover the telltale markings – it is all recyclable! Cool!

Here’s how they describe themselves:

“muchbetteradventures.com is a community powered adventure travel guide, specially designed to support local businesses and reward true ethical practice. You can get in direct contact with members through the site, avoid paying commissions, and check out reviews from others who have been.

They worked closely with Sustainable Travel International and The Travel Foundation to develop a careful sustainability vetting procedure, so you can be sure that if someone claims to be ‘muchbetter’, they will be just that! The long-term aim is to build the widest and fairest selection of ethical adventure travel choices that outdoor lovers have ever seen, and bring support to many important conservation and community development projects around the world.”

You can check out our profile here: http://www.muchbetteradventures.com/profile/los-castanos and cruise around the site.  If you have stayed with us and would like to leave a review, we would be most appreciative. It will help us benefit from the site, and spread the word to your friends.

And for a quick giggle, check out Dick Cheney’s green suggestions!

It now all seems a distant but lovely memory of our stay at your fabulous hotel! I had a fantastic break and will continue to rave about what you offer.

Our friends in Libya have a very interesting tale to tell……

When they were still in the desert the local guides who were with the group basically stated that they felt that they could no longer guarantee the safety of the group so they went on to a town where there was a hotel booked for them. Upon arrival the hotel would not open it’s gates! Thankfully their Libyan guide (they also had 2 drivers and a policeman traveling with them – all groups have to have this police escort) got talking to some locals and they arranged for a local family to move out of their apartment so that the group could sleep there! They said that all the people they met were very generous and warm – Lisa did point out that as a woman she did have to know her place!

They managed to get to Tripoli and were staying just a street or two away from the main square so all were instructed to stay indoors and listen to the gun fire.

One of the group was American and her cell phone still worked so she phoned her family who contacted the US Foreign Office – she was instructed to go to the Port as the US had chartered a ferry (not allowed to fly into Libya) – the rest of the Brits had real trouble getting in touch with the British Embassy so decided to take their chances of there being room on the ferry which the US staff (upon arrival at the Port) agreed to. One poor Irish girl who had an onward ticket with Air Italia decided to go to the airport – however Air Italia refused to fly her out as they were instructed to only fly out Italians! By all accounts she had a really horrific experience as she waited for a British plane to take her out. No toilets or food and gunmen firing tear gas and bullets into the buildings/waiting areas.

Meanwhile down at the dockside David and Lisa were being fed, watered and playing cards! Lisa said that they were looked after really well.

Their Libyan guide came back a few times after they arrived at the Port (he was not allowed in and the group had their passports stamped so effectively were on US territory and not Libyan) just to check that they were all OK. This chap who was about 25 to 30 waited until he knew the group had sailed and then was making plans to get back to his family. I think that Lisa is in touch with him so it will be interesting to hear if they have heard from him in recent days.

They said that the trip was fantastic and the scenery in the desert was spectacular and would certainly go back! Hopefully this will be something that can happen but the news of this no-fly zone ruling today makes me fear for any stability there for quite some time.

A silly fact – petrol was 9p/litre!

In the USA, where Cotons are very popular, puppies with brown and black colouring seem to be de rigueur but, here in Europe, pure white is the preferred colour.

My daughter, Lu, has one female with brown markings but her puppies are usually white. Weare all very excited, however, because she has just had a litter which included one little girl with the most magnificent brown and black colouring. So unusual.

Coton de Tulear puppies

She is a perfect little doll. Here she is at one day old – just over 100 grams. A beautiful little brown girl…

Coton de Tulear puppy – one day old

It was a magical year as we ** worked with the local dhowbuilders to create a most beautiful vessel in which we sailed half way round the world with our two small children – the younger one was born en route which seems pretty scary now looking back on it but, at the time, one just takes things as they come.

Mjojo she was called and, when we sadly sold her, she became a houseboat in the Netherlands. A tragic end for a magnificent sea-going craft. But I dare say she made an excellent houseboat – she had after all been my home for some years.

But this was not her destiny. A couple of years ago the boat was spotted by a young Dutchman who conceived a passion for this rotting but still beautiful hulk. He bought her, spent every ounce of energy rebuilding her, and now she sails again and on YouTube this time! First time around the internet could not even be imagined. When we sailed the Mjojo we had no way to communicate at all – one little receiver radio that would occasionally enable us to get a shipping forecast.

On this little clip however, she looks as she did when first we sailed her and rather smarter than after a few years of thrashing around at sea.

Just fantastic work, Tom and IekeWally! We love you for it. Happy sailing and do stop in on your way past and take me for a sail.

** This is, you understand, a royal we. I was not allowed to do anything except take freshly squeezed lime juice down to the sweating men every few hours – while the limes lasted. I did try once to dig a hole in the mud during the lengthy launching procedure but the spade was immediately snatched from my hands and my husband frowned upon.

While Baltasar’s wife was growing their son, he was heading for the stars. Not just Michelin’s “Rising Star” category but One Star. It’s fantastic news that young Baltasar, who was in put in charge of Martin Berasatagui’s new restaurant (Santo by Martin Berasatagui) in downtown Sevilla has, after only nine months, been awarded a Michelin star. Well done, Balta! See my previous post.

It probably helped that the eponymous Martin, for whom Baltasar has worked since 2002, is known to Michelin’s top-secret inspectors. He has more Michelin stars than any other Spanish chef and is a household name here in Spain. Baltasar was in their sights before Santo opened.

I don’t wish to detract from this remarkable achievement of a 29 year-old Cartajimeño. We are all proud of him and applaud his dedication to his art – his wife tells me he goes to sleep thinking about how to arrange a plate and he reads cookery books constantly. The Michelin star is an accolade of which Cartajima is proud although this unknown village does not get the credit – the press always call him a Rondeño, Ronda being so much better known than this tiny village in the Andalucian mountains.

Which plays into my pondering how many unsung chefs there are hidden away in remote places. Those secret Michelin inspectors, more anonymous than the SAS, cannot go everywhere; they must have a departure point.Vianne’s chocolate shop in Chocolat comes to mind and I wonder if, were it a restaurant, would Michelin have found her tucked away in that tiny French village? Would they have found Baltasar in Cartajima?

My other preoccupation is our 21st century relationship with food as entertainment. I fear we forget sometimes how fortunate we are considering that our ancestors would have spent much of their lives just feeding themselves. And we have edible art – what we call in our family “stack and splatter”. Watch this video of our Baltasar preparing dishes featuring Californian walnuts and wonder at the mind-boggling precision and patience he displays

Recent guests of Los Castanos enjoyed Baltasar’s mother’s simple Andalucian cooking here in the village and then dined at Santo during their stay in Sevilla. They described him as “adorable” and his cuisine as “beyond incredible”.

About Michelin inspectors

If you look up parsnip in a Spanish dictionary, you will find not one word as in English, the ultimate root-eaters, but two – the Latin name (pastinaca) and a more colloquial term – chirivía. But why when they don’t grow them?

My personal quest for parsnips started a few years ago and, everywhere I travel in Spain, I ask the question. Do you sell chirivia? From Galicia to Granada, blank unknowing eyes stare back at me. Quoi? they seem to say.

For a few years there was a carpet store on the Costa del Sol that had a cardboard box of parsnips around the end of the year. Nobody knew why. They don’t any more.

My Christmas meal was, however, delightfully complete this year as, at the very last moment, closing time on the night before, I found a lone pack of three parsnips in a supermarket in Marbella. I think they must have arrived by some sort of magic. Roasted till brown and crunchy, they were utterly wonderful.