Our Andalucian paradise

We came to our small town in rural Andalucía to escape the rat race, consciously abandoning North American city life in favour of Spanish village living. We were used to sirens 24/7, rush-hour traffic and panic buttons on alarm fobs and were looking for a slower and more forgiving pace. We found a perfect little casita on a narrow dead-end street in a charming barrio where everybody knew each other. We could leave doors and windows open and had a friendly repartee with all the neighbours. Then one night everything changed…

We were woken by unfamiliar noises - the familiar ones being barking dogs, braying sheep and donkeys and distant flamenco parties. Two police cars were parked right in front of our house. The vehicles remained there for a couple of hours, while uniformed men moved about with flashlights. The next morning we discovered the reason for the disturbance. Someone had tried to force apart the window bars on the house opposite ours without total success, and proceeded to rip open the front door, or Breaking and Entering - usually a punishable offence. Word on the street travelled quickly, confirming that there were at least two squatters inside. So, what had the police done with the unlawful intruders we asked our better-informed neighbours? “Nada..” (nothing) was the answer. And what could the law do according to the same information source? “Nada…”

Squatting refers to unlawful occupancy of uninhabited buildings or unused land - an increasingly common problem here in Spain. Whenever we speak to locals about squatters everybody has a horror story to tell, often involving their families. A friend had squatters move into her flat. As the invaders had barricaded themselves inside she couldn’t evict them, even if it was legally her home, for which she had always paid her taxes and bills. In the end, after having to sponsor the intruders’ steep electricity bill and a 700-euro water bill, she became furious (and one should never make an andalusa angry). Though barely 4 feet tall, this brave little lady went to her home and told the squatters that she would personally throw them off the balcony if they didn’t leave immediately. Somehow they moved on.

People in Spain have been known to go on holiday and return to find somebody else living in their home. The owners then have to find another place to live, paying double expenses, while proceeding with legal action against the unlawful occupiers. In a famous media story, a woman whose home was occupied heard that the squatters had the audacity to sublet her rooms. She rented one of these, moved in and waited until a day when both squatters were out. Then she hurriedly changed the locks and was thereby finally able to reoccupy her own home.

Are you shaking your head yet?

Spain has literally millions of empty properties all over the country. Most are for sale, many are used as secondary holiday homes, while others are repossessed by the bank because the owners have failed to pay their mortgage. The latter was unfortunately the case with the house opposite ours. Bank-owned buildings are perfect for what one can describe as organized squatters, because the laws are more lenient to the felons when no individual suffers personal loss or depreciation of property value. Spanish banks possess thousands of buildings and are known not to care, so removing squatters from a bank-owned property take considerably longer than evictions from privately owned homes.

Organized squatters usually work in teams, identifying empty properties, assessing security measures and weaknesses, verifying if water and power are connected and moving in quickly under the disguise of darkness. These types of professional home invaders do not represent the poor, desperate homeless or bankrupt families in dire need of a roof over their heads. The pros make it their business to invade homes. Like our new ‘neighbours’, they own vehicles, wear new clothes, and have cell phones of the latest make and model.  They tend to be repeat offenders with previous charges against them for former unlawful entries. Pro squatters are the hardest to get rid of, as they know every loophole in the Spanish legal system. They will always leave one person back at base so re-occupation cannot take place. The others may be seen skulking about the neighbourhood, their eyes always scanning around 360-degrees, as if they are expecting to be attacked from behind.

While two individuals broke in initially on our street, other family members usually follow. The squatters were overheard to have said that they would leave the premises if the police paid their rent elsewhere. In broad daylight the next day the intruders changed the locks. After two more nights of police visits, the cops packed up their non-threatening flashlights and drove away, leaving the intruders to take up residence for an undetermined length of time. The squatters are currently launching about and airing out ‘their’ new home, while the remaining neighbours keep kids inside, and windows and doors secured out of fear of the intruders’ next move. Every night, the squatters seem to bring in more furniture. And though the house has neither water nor electricity, it can easily be ‘borrowed’ from adjoining buildings. After all, they are pros.

The Spanish law on squatting has changed in the past few years, allegedly making it easier for owners to get rid of unlawful occupants. Yet, this law only refers to privately owned properties, not those owned by banks or real estate companies. There is no great legal deterrent for squatters, as home invasion of uninhabited properties usually only entails a fine and a slap on the hand. Whether one denounces the culprit/s or not, the average time to fully evict unlawful occupants is more than a year. There are still too many legal loopholes. Squatters can in principle be removed within 48 hours, unless they change the locks, which is the first thing the pros will do. If they additionally register themselves as residents of the specific address with the Town Hall, it is even harder to get them out. And if they bring children under ten years of age into the premises, don’t even start…

So, what can be done if ones’ home has been invaded? From what I have read on the subject, it is vital to act swiftly. Report it and seek immediate legal advice to get the squatters out as soon as possible. There are private now companies who promise to remove unwanted intruders within a couple of days, but I cannot say how reputable or efficient these are. Neighbours can also present civil action against the squatters, or report them to the police when they engage in what one deems to be illegal, dangerous or harmful activities. Official complaints and requests for action can be made to whoever owns the property, or their security company. Joining neighbourhood associations and creating formal or informal Neighbourhood Watch groups can be helpful, and may give the affected residents a greater sense of solidarity and security. Though some affected owners try to break in and re-change the locks when the occupants are out, this seems risky at best, as one never knows what the occupants are capable of. It can also backfire, as squatters can actually denounce the legal owners for illegal trespassing. So much for the sanctity of ones home!

For those who own a Spanish holiday home that is left empty most of the year, how can one prevent unlawful occupants? There are of course no guarantees, as criminals who want to break in will usually find a way. However, there are some simple things one can do to deter unwanted intruders. First of all, one should assure that the property is checked routinely. Next is installing indoor lights on timers and sensor lights outside, and keeping a clean entrance without heaps of mail to advertise that no-one is home. As we discovered, it does not always help to have a silent alarm with direct connection to the police station. By the time the officers arrived on our street, the intruders had already bolted themselves inside. A less sophisticated alarm system that omits a loud sound when someone breaks in might be better, certainly in a residential area.

The problem of squatters is much bigger than our little street drama. It is something that every city, town and municipality in Spain have to deal with. Authorities who do nothing send a wrong message to the public. People will question why they should rent or buy a home and pay fees and taxes, if others can just come and invade them at their leisure. In some countries this type of problem is ‘solved’ by hiring a few thugs with baseball bats to scare off the squatters, but I am glad to say that Spain does not follow the law of the jungle. This is the land of the law of mañana…

In the meantime, the legitimate residents of our street wonder when we can return to our peaceful life and open our windows again.   

(To protect the innocent home owners, none of the photos used in this article are from an occupied house)

Envisage a town concealed in a gorge with houses dug into a mountainside.  A place virtually unknown to tourists a few years back, yet where history goes back millennia. Now this has to be an interesting town to visit…

Meet Setenil de las Bodegas - a tiny municipality in the province of Cádiz with a mere 3000 inhabitants. In 2018, Setenil was included in the Association of Spain’s Most Beautiful Villages. Only last month it was also chosen as the Best Secret Destination in Europe, ahead of Malcine in Italy, Renania in Germany, Agos Nikolaos in Greece and other lesser known European jewels.

Setenil forms part of the route of Andalucía’s White Villages, yet the town has something which none of the other Pueblos Blancos possess. Whereas most white villages are situated on high ground, Setenil is embedded into a narrow river gorge. Approaching from the mountain plateau that surrounds it, you cannot see any sign of an upcoming town. Like Alberta’s Badlands, the road suddenly dips into a crevice, in Setenil’s case created by the Río Trejo and Río Guadalporcún.

Setenil’s most distinctive feature however, is the town’s large number of cave dwellings. The white washed buildings literally seem to grow out of the mountain or to be physically embedded in the rockface. Many homes have a single external wall. The rest of the living quarters will expand underneath the protruding overhang, dug out of the porous sand stone by enlarging the natural caves that the river created millions of years ago. This innovative design makes Setenil one of the most original villages not only in Spain, but in all of Europe.

Troglodyte living is not a new thing in Setenil. Caves in nearby regions were occupied in both Paleolithic and Neolithic times. It is likely that Setenil also was home to our Neanderthal ancestors, but evidence of Stone Age residents may have been lost in the spring-cleanings of newer inhabitants during the last couple of millennia.

The town’s name is said to have come from the Latin words septem nihil (seven times nothing), referring to how this Moorish town resisted the Catholic Reconquista army, only falling after seven long sieges in 1484. In my opinion there has to be another explanation. Firstly, how would the Latin speaking Romans have known about a conquest that happened several centuries into the future, after they left the Iberian continent? Secondly, would a Latin town name have been used through 700 years of Moorish rule? And finally, would the Catholic Monarchs want to name the town in memory of their six unsuccessful attempts of taking over the town, even if they finally succeeded on the seventh attempt? To me, it is a mystery indeed.

The addition to the name, de las Bodegas, dates from the 15th Century, and refers to the once thriving local wineries. After expelling the Muslims, Setenil’s new Christian settlers introduced grapevines, while continuing the Arab olive and almond production. The vineyards were wiped out by an insect infestation that killed virtually all of Europe’s grape stock in the 1880’s, but recent replanting has once again filled up Setenil’s bodegas for us to enjoy their bounty. 

While Setenil is a mere pueblo today, it was once an important town. In fact it received a Letter of Privilege from the Catholic Monarchs in 1501, giving it trade benefits on level with Sevilla. Yet the true sign of the town’s past importance comes in the form of an engraving from 1564, when Joris Hoefnagel drew an atlas of Europe’s most important towns, one of which was Setenil! His Civitates Orbis Terrarum, published in Cologne in 1572, was one of Europe’s first map books.

Living merely 30 minutes drive away, Setenil is a favourite place for my husband and I to take visitors. You can see the entire town in a morning, though I believe one should never miss the chance of having lunch under a suspended rock! If you come on a Friday, you get the added bonus of seeing the villagers descend upon the weekly mercadillo (8 - 14ish) It is great for people watching and a must if you are in the market for flowers, fruit, spices, synthetic dresses or granny style underwear.

We prefer less busy days, when we can spend an hour or two doing the natural circuit, strolling along one side of the river and returning on the other. Wandering the streets of Setenil, or callejear as they call it is simply a joy. Everywhere you look there are magical corners, narrow alleys and picturesque balconies bursting with flowers.

Our walk usually starts in Calle Cuevas de la Sombra (loosely translated as ‘the shady cave street’), one of the most astonishing rock-ceilinged streets in the known universe. In spite of the limited headroom, locals blast through in their mini-trucks not paying the slightest attention to the tight clearance on either side.

There seem to have been a recent revival of the town, with an increasing number of stores and delis. We stop in one of these to have a chat with the owner about village life. La Cueva del Ibérico, like many shops in town, is really a cave. There is no ceiling as such, just the bare rock overhead extending onto the back wall. Not only is the atmosphere of the store fabulous, but Daniel the proprietor knows his trade. He can tell you where every cheese is produced and why one wine differs from another, and those who are lucky to spend the night or not driving can always ask for taste.

Daniel was brought up in Setenil, but like many young, left town to study and make a career in the big city. As a husband and recent father, he has returned. He likes the slow pace of Setenil, but also the year-round visitors from all over the world. He tells us that five years back there were only a handful of guesthouses in town, while today there are more than 30 casas rurales, including half a dozen within spitting distance of his shop.

We emerge from Daniel’s cave with a litre of sherry after having tried the whole range - from the driest Fino and the floral Amontillado to the sweetest Pedro Ximénez grapes. At the end of the street, after a short but steep climb (not recommended in the hot midday sun), we stop at a local chapel to light a candle by one of the many statues of the Virgin Mary.

Continuing uphill we come to Plaza de Andalucía. It is a little early to begin to tapear, so we indulge in our first iced coffee instead. The square has a couple of tapas bars, as well as possibly the world’s only cave bank!

Meandering our way up past the tourist office we arrive at the top of the bluff, which offers an excellent vantage point of the town. The Torreón del Homenaje tower is the only remains of the original alcázar castle from the 12. Century. Occasionally used for art exhibits, it is also well worth the climb to the top for an undisturbed birds’ eye view of the surrounding countryside.

Descending through narrow alleys with kissing-distance from the buildings on one side to the other, we return to river level. We are ready to explore the town’s less frequented roads, where some of the most charming and authentic cave homes in Setenil can be found.

The sandstone overhangs make natural turbans for the cave dwellings, which merge perfectly with the overgrown terracotta roof tiles.

These traditional rural homes have few and small windows, to keep the heat out in summer and the cold out in winter. One has to ask oneself how living in such enclosed stone quarters must be in the rainy season, as even on the sunniest of days the buildings feel humid and cool. Not sure if I would like to try, but I can see it being perfect for curing chorizos…

Not all the caves are homes though. Some are converted into unsightly garages, while others look more like squat barns and donkey shacks. The majority of these cave dwellings were probably shared by people and their domestic animals way back when. Maybe some still are?

We return on the opposite side of the river, walking along Calle Cuevas del Sol (sunny cave street), which is without doubt the most frequently photographed street in town.

The market stalls are being disassembled into vans, and we find a table at Bar Frasquito where Pedro and his family serve to-die-for tapas. My weakness is their fried slices of eggplant with melted goat cheese topped with a Pedro Ximenez reduction - a true hedonistic treat. As an aside, the English translations of Spanish menus can be quite amusing, often spelled phonetically, translated literally, or just plain wrong. My eggplant with goat cheese for instance, is written up as Eggpland wiht good chesse. 

Setenil has managed to reinvent itself in the 21^st Century, while retaining its charming village feel. People still practice traditional agriculture, combined with a growing but limited tourist trade. Add to this a unique setting and beautiful surroundings and you get a rural community with an authentic Andalusian flavour.

One thing is for certain. Setenil is truly unforgettable, and if you ever doubt it, all you have to do is look up…