On Spaniards

Why do so many Brits come and settle in Spain? The main reasons appear to be the glorious weather and the relative cheapness of property and a lowish cost of living - at least, most retirees, who've chosen to live out their days on the Costa del Sol, would probably acknowledge those factors as high on their priority list.

But I feel many of the ex-pat Brits living on the costas often miss out on one of the best things about Spain. With their famous reluctance to learn the language beyond the ability to order lunch and tendency to to prefer all (or mostly) British enclaves when it comes to socialising, they're missing the opportunity to have fun with the Spaniards.

For, based on the Spaniards we've got to know, Spaniards LOVE to have fun and are very good at it. Spanish people are not as smiley and instantaneously friendly as people from, say, Slovenia or parts of Italy. But even the smallest effort at a friendly overture will usually pay high dividends. We've found Spanish people to be warm and inclusive and very generous in their friendship.

In our experience - confirmed by other extranjeros - Spanish people are enthusiastic socialisers and communicators and that's what makes them such fun students when it comes to teaching them English. Despite their well-publicised "sentido de ridiculo" (stupid feeling), which can make them reluctant to try out their English for fear of sounding silly (not something I've particularly noticed, I have to say), they are generally a delight to teach. Their warm sense of humour and exuberant nature turns many an English lesson into a good old chin-wag with loads of laughs thrown in. Whether any English is actually learned is another matter.

The other Costa del Sol

For a basic beach holiday, where you just want sun, sea, an inexpensive hotel room and lots of cheap beer (and aren't too snobby about your fellow holidaymakers), then the Costa del Sol is fine. Personally, I find lying on beaches for hours intensely dull, although a refreshing swim on a hot day and the chance to read a good book without feeling guilty do have a certain appeal. In fact, where we're staying now gives us ample opportunity to do both, but we're also getting the chance to meet the local English/Spanish community - not the people who have moved from the UK to sit in smart villas and restrict their mixing to fellow ex-pats, but the people whose lives have become woven into the fabric of southern Spain.

Patty, our landlady, has been here for twenty five years or more. When we went into Estepona with her, it took ages to get from one side of the street to the other as numerous friends and acquaintances kept stopping to say "hola" and exchange news. Estepona itself is quite an attractive town with some charming cafe-lined plazas, smart shopping streets and a busy fishing port and marina. Mind you, the shops aren't so smart they don't include the odd front room-grocery seller. We stopped in one complete with sofas, sideboards and TV, where an elderly woman was selling fruit, veg and free-range eggs. We bought a big bagful of goods for less than five euros.

Back at Patty's Paradise our fellow campers include Heicke, a German traveller with her two old-style Mercedes cars (which she uses interchangeably, depending on which one happens to be working), her beautifully painted blue bus and her three energetic dogs, one of which is an improbable cross between a chihuaha and a husky.

Also, newly arrived in his long wheelbase Volkswagen truck is Andy, who we'd already encountered at the Rocket Festival. He's recently quit his job in the UK and sold most of his possessions to move out here. The seed was planted when his friend Kerine (who gave us Patty's flyer at the Rocket) moved to this area around five years ago. Last year Andy spent a few months doing a solo motorbike tour of Western Europe and that was that, going back to life and work in the UK didn't hold enough attractions anymore, so here he is. It gets you that way. I wonder if Theo and I will ever slot back into our former lives, but we shall see. Plenty of time yet.

Kerine herself has also visited a few times, sharing funny tales of her life in Spain and the people she meets in her upholstery job at Estepona Port. Patty's daughter Rosie is currently taking time out from her own travelling (Central America so far, the UK then other parts of Europe are next) to see her mum - Rosie's boyfriend Raffa is also here. He's from Madrid originally, but she met him while they were both in Belize. We've also met Patty's ex, Steve (christened the patron saint of vans since he fixed the busted fuel pump on Andy's vehicle), a lively Spanish family friend called Jasmina and another mate called Simon. We joined the ensemble up at Patty's house for late night wine, chat and bread and butter pudding. As you do in Spain. If we're not careful, we'll start feeling rather at home here ourselves.

Patty's Paradise

Some people just don't deserve their country. That's certainly true of the British, our ratio of ugly, insensitive developments to beautiful surroundings being sadly weighted in favour of the former. And it's definitely true of the Spanish, who seem intent on raping their stunning landscapes with acre upon acre of concrete monstrosities. The building boom has seen big, boxy appartment blocks going up wherever there's the slightest bit of space and beautiful towns like Salamanca or Cordoba are becoming increasingly swathed in wastelands of depressing urban sprawl. On the Costa del Sol, huge hotels to feed the (often British...we definitely shoulder some of the blame here...) swarms of tourists have been mushrooming for some decades now. So too, the rash of white, balconied villas over the lush hillsides, facing what was once a charming and picturesque coastline...all too many of our fellow countrymen and women are living in those too.

It was with a mixture of horror and gloom that we passed by Malaga, Torremelinos and Marbella on our way down the Costa to Patty's alternative living campsite, near Estepona in the far south of Spain.

Patty herself collected us from a rendezvous point nearby and led us to the orchard below her house, only ten minutes walk from the nearest beach (very unspoilt for the Costa del Sol, with a view to the rock of Gibraltar and the Atlas Mountains in Africa) and boasting electricity hook-ups, plentiful fresh water, loo, hot showers and laundry facilities. For that, we are paying ten euros a day plus ten euros on top for unlimited and excellent wifi internet access. In fact, pretty much the same facilities we payed 25 euros a night for in Torre del Mar, Lisbon and Salamanca, but on a far smaller scale and in a scruffier, more unruly but much more friendly site.

We are now comfortably ensconced beneath a lemon tree with a bucket full of windfalls ready to be squeezed into home-made lemonade.