All Posts

Four days have passed since my joyous arrival in Santiago, yet a gentle melancholy still lingers in me. As on any given day, hundreds of pilgrims and tourists gather before the majestic cathedral. Local guides shepherd their flocks through the square, and a rainforest of umbrellas drifts in a chaotic ballet across the Plaza de Obradoiro. One in particular catches my eye: “Life is a dancefloor” , it claims. Dancing, now there’s a thought. Who would have guessed that on some i

A false start If you clicked on this post hoping for a blood-soaked thriller, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. No corpses, no detectives, no dark alleys. And yet …our “serial killer” does sneak onto the stage for a brief cameo. Olvera, a white village with a wild soul First, let’s set the scene. Perched on a rocky hilltop in the beating heart of Andalusia, Olvera looks like something lifted from a painter’s dream. At sunrise, the castle glows golden, and the church bells ec

Even in my childhood, croquettes ranked high on my “What I love to Eat” list. Unfortunately, these crispy treats were only served on Christian holidays. So, I eagerly looked forward to Easter, Christmas or a First Communion party to enjoy this delicious patato-based dish again. Traditionally, they were homemade. With the unbeatable “millecroquettes” a batch of croquettes could be made in no time. And yes, they always disappeared as fast as hot cakes. When I moved to the Iberi

April 2023 Southern Spain is on fire, literally. The first heatwave of the year has Andalusia in a sizzling grip, and the mercury is flirting shamesly with 40°. Most sane people would head straight for a pool or the nearest ice-cold cerveza. Not Jasper. No, Jasper decides this is the perfect moment to hop on the bikes and tackle the Via Verde de la Sierra. Why? Well, this old railway line turned  cycling route, has about thirthy tunnels. And tunnels mean shade. And shade mean

“Donde la luz andaluza abraza, florece la rosa eterna del hogar” A new home, a sanctuary bathed in Andalusian light. Your own shelter beneath the southern sun. A place that longs for a name. Not just any name, but one that echoes both the soul of the house and of the person who inhabits it. From the very beginning, i sensed where the path of discovery would lead me. Step across the threshold of my “casita” and at once your gaze is captured by a stained-glass window. Its color

Patti Smith Quartet @ Cactus Festival 2024, Brugge It wasn’t destiny. There was no cosmic wink, no secret sign pointing me toward a future under Spanish skies. On the contrary: at forty-eight Spain was still a name on the map, a place my feet had yet to find. Andy yet, as Bredero wisely said: “Things can change”. The first twist in the story came at the “Cactus Festival” in Bruges. Patti Smith – the godmother of punk – was on the line up, and for a lifelong music addict like