As Pablo de Ronda thinks back to his first ever Christmas spent in Spain, 13 years ago, he is reminded of a fascinating situation that arose back then.

I was spending my first Christmas in Montejaque, near Ronda (Málaga), staying with my German girlfriend (now my wife) and her two sons, Johannes and Jonathan, who were also visiting for the festive period. One night we got a proper linguistic shock!

When the three of us went out for a few drinks in the village, we were astonished to end up in a bar in the square where everyone present could speak German!

As we arrived at the bar talking together in German, the landlady greeted us fluently in that language. Ani, together with her husband Antonio, both from Montejaque, had emigrated to Knittlingen, south Germany, with their two young boys, to work there as part of the German Gastarbeiterprogramm, the scheme offering jobs to foreigners to help rebuild the German economy in the post-war years.

The boys, Diego and Juan, were brought up and went to school in the Swabian town, now Montejaque’s official twin town, and are naturally bi-lingual.

When the family returned to their home village Antonio and Ani took over Bar El Rincón, while Juan has his own building firm in Montejaque and Diego works with German tourists in Málaga.

Another amazing thing we found out was that Juan and Jonathan attended the same high school in Knittlingen!

Back to that night in 2008 ….. suddenly, up piped a little old lady who had overheard us: “Ich sprechen Deutsch. Ich Putzfrau Knittlingen. Mein Sohn sprechen Deutsch auch. Er kommen jetzt. Er arbeiten an der Küste. Er sprechen gut Deutsch.”

This lady, María, had been a cleaner in Knittlingen for many years. Her German wasn’t very good, bless her, but at least she could communicate. She’d told us that her son, who was due to arrive shortly from his job on the coast, also spoke German.

With that, in breezed her son, also called Juan, and we quickly struck up a conversation - in German, of course. Unlike his mother his German was perfect – in fact, we were told later, it’s better than his Spanish! Well, he was born, brought up and educated there, so that’s understandable.

As the evening wore on our conversation became more fluid as the beer flowed. There we were: six Spaniards, two Germans, and an Englishman in a tiny bar in a small village in the mountains of Andalucía, all speaking German together. Something I will never forget.

¡Feliz Navidad! Frohe Weihnachten!

Backstory

In the 1960s several hundred inhabitants of Montejaque and neighbouring village Benaoján emigrated to Germany in search of work. Many went to the town of Knittlingen near Stuttgart to work in the factories there as Gastarbeiter. Quite a lot have since returned to their home villages with their families, giving rise to the surprisingly high number of German speakers in this part of the Serranía de Ronda.

The strong links between the three villages developed into an official partnership which was signed and sealed in 2010.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday is the title of a risqué film from 1971, directed by John Schlesinger and starring Peter Finch, Glenda Jackson, Murray Head and Peggy Ashcroft. Controversial at the time it tells the story of a free-spirited young bi-sexual artist (played by Head) and his simultaneous relationships with a divorced recruitment consultant (Jackson) and a gay Jewish doctor (Finch). A box-office failure, the film garnered huge critical success, winning five BAFTAs and gaining four OSCAR nominations.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday was also the name given to the day in 1972 when 14 un-armed protesters were shot dead by British troops in Derry, Northern Ireland. It is also the title of two songs dedicated to the massacre. The first, released in the same year, 1972, was by John Lennon and Yoko Ono and appeared on their album Sometime in New York City. The second, by Irish rock band U2, was released in 1983 on their album War. It was hugely successful and remains one of their signature songs.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday for me has meant something completely different. For most of my life I hated Sundays. Other days of the week at least had something positive about them: Mondays represented a fresh start; Tuesdays and Wednesdays there was Champions League Football; Thursdays for decades meant Tom and Jerry, Tomorrow’s World and Top of the Pops; Fridays were the end of the working week and Saturdays meant the weekend was here.

But Sundays?

For the first five years of my life I probably couldn’t distinguish one day from another, but as soon as I started school Sunday became stressful. For the next 20 years through primary school, grammar school and university it was the day before the school/uni week started and there was inevitably this piece of homework or that essay to be completed.

For the next 15 years, during which I was a secondary school teacher, there was inevitably marking to be done and/or lessons to prepare. Sunday afternoons and evenings were ruined.

When I left the classroom to become a schools adviser/inspector, I thought things might improve and I’d get my Sundays back. Not so, there was often a tricky meeting with a headteacher first thing on Monday morning to prepare for or a training day to plan. That lasted another 15 years.

Then, all of a sudden, after five decades of Sunday, Bloody Sunday, I got the 7^th day of the week back. I was made redundant and took early retirement at the age of 55. What a major change to my life! Suddenly Sundays became one of the best days of the week and they have remained so for the last 15 years or so.

***

Last Sunday morning, as I sat on the terrace of a café in Ronda, chilly yet beautifully sunny, eating my tostada con aceite y tomate, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday paper – SUR de Málaga – I reflected on how pleasant life has become. Then I thought: “There’s an article in this” and what you are now reading is the outcome.

This breakfast/Spanish press ritual is something I try to do every Sunday.  My wife and I have also started going for a walk/hike or taking a trip to the coast on Sundays.

Recent excursions have included the newly opened Caminito de Montejaque (Málaga), the karst rocks behind the same village and two trips to the coast, once to Manilva Playa and another time to Estepona (both western Costa del Sol).

Sunday, Bloody Sunday? Not any longer. 50 years was enough!

Ronda Romántica is the festival, normally celebrated in May, when historic events and pageants are acted out on the streets of the City of the Tajo. Villages from throughout the Serranía de Ronda take part and good fun is had by all.

The last two years have been cancelled because of the Covid-19 pandemic.

But there is another side to Ronda Romántica, namely the number of people who have come to Ronda, fallen in love here and remained.

The US author Ernest Hemingway is rumoured to have had a love affair with the film star Ava Gardner whom he met in Ronda when they were both here for the bullfight season in the fifties. Hemingway wrote the following about Ronda: “Es a Ronda a donde habría que ir, si vais alguna vez a España a pasar una luna de miel o con una amiguita.” (“It is to Ronda you’d have to go, if you’re going to Spain some time for a honeymoon or with a lady friend.”)

The aptly named Love family has two generations that have fallen under Cupid’s influence here in Spain, if not in Ronda, then in Andalucía. Mum and dad, Elaine and Ian, met here as 20-somethings, married and opened a very successful restaurant, The Harbour Lights, in Cabopino until they decided to move to Ronda with their three daughters.

They converted an old mill into one of the finest boutique hotels in the Serranía de Ronda, Hotel Molino del Puente, and its restaurant, La Cascada, is one of the best restaurants around.

Their eldest daughter Robyn (Marbella, Spain) met and fell in love with Gianlucca (Germany via La Palmera, Spain) at Cádiz University. They have both now graduated and work as marine biologists, first in East Anglia, UK and then Sweden.

Her sister, Carly (Marbella, Spain) and Tom (England via Marbella) met on the Costa del Sol but moved to Puerto de la Cruz in Tenerife where they ran a successful bar/ restaurant. They have a baby girl, Sophia, and have now moved back to the mainland.

Paul Whitelock (Barnstaple, Devon, England) and Rita Drechsler (Oesterholz, Germany) met at the Feria de Pedro Romero in 2008. Thirteen years later they are still together (11 years married).

Charlotte Wilmot (Lincoln, England) and Jaime López (Benaoján, Málaga, Spain) met in Ronda 19 years ago. They are married with a child. He was her Spanish teacher. They run a successful language school in Ronda, RondaLingua.

Michael Coy (Wrexham, North Wales) met and fell in love with Mercedes (Ronda, Spain) during a trip to the town 20 years ago. He gave up his career as a barrister and moved to Ronda to be with his dream girl. Their relationship lasted 15 years and they remain good friends.

Michael still lives in Ronda, where he teaches English and Spanish, offers legal advice and writes poetry in both English and Spanish.

Andrei, a British former primary school teacher, born in the UK to Polish refugees escaping from Nazi Germany in the 1940s, came to Ronda 11 years ago where he met María. They are still together. He is an English teacher and she is an asesora at the Tourist Office in Ronda.

Seamus (Co. Cork, Ireland) is an incorrigible romantic. He falls in and out of love regularly.  As does Chris Mees (Antwerp, Belgium) who has a different girl on his arm every time I see him.

Becky Jackson (Colwyn Bay, Wales) and Graham Pitt (Scotland). They were already engaged to be married when they first visited Ronda, but they loved the town so much they decided to get married here. With the help of Becky’s mum and her partner of the time they managed to organise a fantastic wedding in the beautiful Palacio de Mondragón in Ronda, one of few by foreigners in the town. That was in May 2006. Their marriage is still going strong and they have a son, Alex.

Delphine Duboys (Paris, France) and Fernando (Ceuta, Spain) found love here and now run a horse riding retreat, Paddock Paradise (www.paddockparadiseronda.com) located just outside Ronda.

These coups de foudre don’t always work out, however, and several relationships that existed prior to Ronda have foundered in the City of Dreams. For example, this writer’s relationship with his first wife of 30 years and then his subsequent girlfriend of two years.

Other guiris have come to Ronda as married couples or partners in order to escape the rat race that is northern Europe and to build a new life. In some cases, regrettably, the pressures of having to earn a crust or living together 24/7 have taken their toll.

In some cases, sudden death has intervened.

In 2005 Jill and Bill La Pêche bought their dream finca together in Yunquera (Málaga) to develop an ecological fruit farm, although they lived in Montejaque, near Ronda. In 2009 Bill suddenly died of a heart attack, leaving Jill alone.

She struggled to maintain the finca for several years, but eventually sold it in 2018. She is still in Montejaque enjoying her life, and, NOT wearing black all the time, as Spanish widows do.

Julie Wilkinson has owned a house in Cañada del Real Tesoro (Cortes de la Frontera Estación) for 17 years. She and long-time partner Nigel used it regularly to escape the pressures of working life in the UK. Nigel died suddenly in 2012 leaving Julie to reassess her life.

She decided to put all her eggs in one basket and moved out to Spain full time in 2018, where she is semi-retired. A fluent Spanish-speaker, she spends some of her time assisting non-Spanish speakers and also Spanish locals with their bureaucratic and administrative issues. She is also a keen photographer, rambler, cook and writer on environmental issues.

So Ronda Romántica, the local festival, was suspended for the second year in succession, but it looks as though Ronda continues to throw up romances for visitors and locals alike. Long may it continue.

¡Viva Ronda Romántica!

In a speech to the nation in 1992 Queen Elizabeth II described that year as her annus horribilis. After all, three royal marriages had collapsed, the Royal Family was riding low in the opinion polls over their tax-free status and the fire at Windsor Castle had destroyed 100 rooms.

In Part I of this duology Pablo de Ronda looked back on the first part of 2021 as their own annus horribilis.  In Part II he describes how the year metamorphosed into their annus mirabilis.

Part II - Annus Mirabilis

Monday 26 April          My wife flies into Málaga. I collect her and her wheelchair and we go for breakfast to a beach near the airport. It is glorious. She is still frail and has lost a lot of weight, but she is glad to be home at last. She has been away for two and a half months!

For the first few weeks we take it easy while Rita gradually begins to build up her strength, through acupuncture by Dra. Luz Calderón, massage by professional masseuse Pippa Brooks and private exercises shown to her by physiotherapist niece Dana Ofer.

Wednesday 28 April     We reluctantly decide to let our gorgeous German pointer Berti go. He is too much for us to handle. José our builder and friend has offered to take him, so we’ll still get to see him on a regular basis.

Monday 6 May              I am headhunted by an estate agency, Andalucía Country Houses, to work with them by finding houses for sale in the Montejaque area. I also help them to find premises to open a “shop window” in the village. We soon have a healthy portfolio of properties.

Monday 27 May           My wife and I go to Frigiliana for five days for a break and to celebrate my 71^st birthday. We stay in the same “ice cream parlour” as Berti and I did earlier in the year.

Friday 28 May                I lose the services of Jorge, my main builder. But work progresses on Casa Real with José “El Suave”, with me acting as his peón. Other occasional helpers include Stewart “El Alto”, José’s daughters Miriam, “La Constructora” and Leti, “La controladora” and, later on, my trusty wife, “The Meter Maid”.

Friday 4 June                Live theatre starts up again. We see the musical “Cabaret” in Ronda.

Thursday 17 June          Our dog Berti is run over and killed. Today is not a good day.

Monday 28 June            The engine compartment of my wife’s car catches fire and explodes. Nobody is hurt, but her beloved Peugeot 206 CC is a write-off. Another bad day.

Friday 2 July                  Our first ever booking at our villa. A French family stays for two weeks.                

Tuesday 6 July               My wife’s sister Birgid visits for three weeks. We stay in Montejaque, where my wife has installed a hot tub/Jacuzzi on the downstairs patio of her house there.

Monday 26 July              Our second booking – another French family, of 6 people, stay for a week.

Monday 2 August            Booking number 3 – French again. This time 7 people.

Wednesday 11 August     This booking is by English people who normally live in Benidorm.

Monday 23 August           Our final booking is a Spanish mother and son until the end of the month.

Tuesday 1 September      Dana, my wife’s niece, arrives for a 10-day holiday with us, as a thank-you for all she has done for her/us. Dana has visited us here in Andalucía several times in the past, but we still find fun things to do.

Sunday 19 September     Our first-ever guests at Casa Real. We just manage to get the house ready in time for their 10-day stay. Regular visitors, Hovis and Jacqui Brown, give us very positive feedback about this “reformed” casa de pueblo.

***

Whilst my wife has made a full physical recovery from her Covid-19 ordeal, I am struggling with the effects of long-Covid; namely shortness of breath, impaired balance and lack of energy.

Friday 1 October          I am diagnosed as a diabetic. This means a major change of lifestyle: regular exercise, new diet, no alcohol and medication. It’s a bit of a shock!

***

We begin a hectic period of well-deserved relaxation and travel.

Sunday 3 October       We go on a five-night Parador tour to Extremadura, staying in ancient monuments such as old castles and monasteries. Extremadura , especially the northern part, is stunningly beautiful.

Saturday 18 October   We go on a short visit to Madrid and Toledo. We actually go to buy a replacement car for my wife, so travel up to the capital on the train, take in the sights of the stunning city that is Madrid, buy the car, a Peugeot 207 CC, and drive back home spending a night in beautiful Toledo on the way.

Saturday 23 October   My daughter Amy, son-in-law Carlo and grandsons Felix and Jude visit us for a short break. I’ve only seen Jude in the flesh once, shortly after his birth a month or so before Covid-19 hit the world with such force. We pack a load in and have a great time. A highlight was a visit to Secret Paradise near Montejaque.

Thursday 28 October   My wife and I head off to Germany for our postponed Familientreffen, our biennial family get-together. This has been postponed twice because of the pandemic, but this time we manage it. This is my wife’s first visit to Germany since she was there earlier in the year for post-Covid care. The circumstances are totally different and we enjoy our time spent with her extended family.

***

Monday 8 November   Back home in Spain we get to enjoy a series of cultural events during November and December. These include three different flamenco espectáculos, two new plays and a night of Hollywood film music played and sung live. The last outing was an evening of live medieval music played on medieval instruments in the beautiful surroundings of the Palacio de Mondragón in Ronda.

I win two tickets for the Christmas Lottery (El Gordo) in a raffle at a local bar. Both tickets win me 20€ in the Lotería de Navidad draw on 22 December, so 40€ in all.

Friday 24 December   We enjoy our German Christmas. According to tradition, in Germany Christmas Eve is when the main meal is eaten and the presents are opened.

Saturday 25 December            We have our Christmas lunch at Restaurante La Cascada with our friends, hosts Ian and Elaine Love. Unusually the meal is paella and hog roast, delicious, with music by the fantastic Marcus Myers.

Sunday 26 December               Boxing Day. I prepare a typical English Christmas Turkey Roast with all the trimmings.

Sunday 27 December               Our friends Mike and Chris complete on a house purchase today, ie they go to the notary, hand over the cash and get the keys. We invite them and their daughter Helena, who is visiting her mum and dad, around for a meal to celebrate.

Friday 31 December                 New Year’s party at Cortijo Perla Blanca, just over our back fence. Julian and Jody Marshall and their children, Ben and Ellie, host this event for family and friends in order to round off 2021, one of the strangest years any of us can ever remember.

***

In our case the year metamorphosed from our Annus Horribilis into our Annus Mirabilis. Let’s hope things get even better for everybody in 2022!

! FELIZ AÑO NUEVO !

***

Below are links to other articles which may be of interest to readers:

Diary of a homecoming (https://www.secretserrania.com/2021/05/diary-of-a-homecoming/)

Birthday outing … Frigiliana (https://www.secretserrania.com/2021/05/birthday-outing-malaga-province/)

RIP Berti (https://www.secretserrania.com/2021/06/rip-berti/)

Journey to the hard extreme - visiting the paradores of Extremadura – Part 2 (https://www.eyeonspain.com/blogs/puntosdevista/21429/journey-to-the-hard-extreme-extremadura-part-2.aspx)

Buying a car in Spain (https://www.eyeonspain.com/blogs/joeking/21446/how-to-buy-a-car-in-spain.aspx)  

The “Crazy Guy” gets his house finished just in time (https://www.secretserrania.com/2021/09/the-crazy-guy-gets-his-house-finished-just-in-time/)

***

In a speech to the nation in 1992 to mark her 40^th anniversary on the throne, Queen Elizabeth II described that year as her annus horribilis. After all, three royal marriages had collapsed, namely those of Charles and Diana; Anne and Captain Mark Phillips; and Andrew and “Fergie”. The Royal Family was riding low in the opinion polls over their tax-free status. And, to cap it all, the fire at Windsor Castle, the favourite of her many homes, had destroyed 100 rooms.

Clearly a tough year! However Pablo de Ronda thinks he and his wife had their own annus horribilis in the 12 months just ending, 2021.

The year began as a nightmare for the couple and for the next five months things could not have been worse. But from May onwards the year got better and better and, despite everything, metamorphosed into one of the best yet, their annus mirabilis.

In two parts, Pablo recalls his diary of the year 2021.

Part I - Annus Horribilis

We had returned from a great three-day end-of-year break in Cádiz and had just seen in the New Year enjoying a raclette with friends, when we both went down with the bicho, the dreaded Covid-19 virus. Thanks, Cádiz!

Sunday 3 January      My wife begins to show symptoms of Coronavirus

Monday 4 January      I follow suit, although mine seem milder.

I spend the whole week on the telephone to the medical services trying to organise tests. There seems to be no urgency on their part.

Saturday 9 January    My wife deteriorates over the next few days and I finally get her a test, but not for me; I am not sufficiently ill, they say! She is, of course, positive. I am told to take her to the hospital on Sunday.

Sunday 10 January     My wife is admitted to hospital. I get tested too. Positive. It seems to be organised chaos at the Covid-19 reception area and we sit around for hours. By the time they agree to let me go home to pack a case for my wife, the toque de queda (curfew) has started. They give me a chit to show to the police should I get stopped. It has been snowing for a few hours and the roads are pretty treacherous. Nevertheless, I make it home, pack an overnight bag with nighties, toiletries, etc, and make my way back to the hospital to hand it over. (Technically this is all out of order, since I have tested positive and should be in quarantine, not driving round the streets of Ronda during curfew!)

***

For the next 10 days my wife goes through hell. She can’t remember everything that happens to her in hospital, as they have put her on tranquilisers, which play merry hell with her psyche and her memory. Lowlights include being found collapsed on the floor in her room on two occasions lying in her own poo. There was also a period of several days when she goes incommunicado because she doesn’t have the energy nor the will to speak to anybody, neither me, nor her family in Germany. The hospital staff keep me totally in the dark. Because of data protection rules they aren’t allowed to tell me, her next of kin, anything! On one occasion I plead with the nurse on the telephone just to confirm whether my wife is alive or dead. She does so, bless her. She is still alive!

Wednesday 20 January            As a result of the lack of adequate treatment and care, after 10 days in hospital I ask for my wife to be discharged and sent home. She arrives mid-afternoon in a sorry state and after a spell on the sofa she goes to bed, where she remains more or less for the next two weeks, not eating, not drinking and not sleeping. And hallucinating. She is a shriveled and frail version of her former self having lost 10 kilos in 10 days in hospital!

Friday 5 February        As a result of much concern amongst my wife’s extended family in Germany, two “guardian angels” in the form of her son Jojo and niece Dana arrive on this day. Dana is a physiotherapist by trade and she has taken 10 days unpaid leave to come and treat her aunt. Jojo has come to see his mum, of course, and to take some of the pressure off me, as sole carer and also as someone still suffering from Covid-19.

This couldn’t have turned out better. Dana works on my wife’s physical condition with exercises, massages and walks in the neighbourhood. The improvement is notable. She gets up and gets dressed every day, and starts to eat again, sitting at the table with us.

Monday 15 February     My wife flies to Germany with Dana and Jojo. The family has decided that she will probably get better aftercare in the German healthcare system than here in Spain.  I agree.

The only dissenter is my wife, but she is firmly told by her son to be quiet and do as she’s told!

Wednesday 17 February         My wife is admitted to hospital in Ludwigsburg, Germany for tests.

Thursday 18 February             Doctors spot a 9 cm tumour on my wife’s ovaries. They schedule an urgent operation to remove it. In the meantime she is allowed out of hospital until the day before the operation which is to be on Monday 8 March.

Friday 19 February      In Spain lockdown ends and non-essential shops and hostelería re-open.

Monday 8 March         My wife has her operation to remove the tumour. Thank God it turns out to be benign!

Is this a sign? That better times are ahead?

***

Wednesday 10 March               I set off to Frigiliana with Berti my dog for a well-earned break. This pueblo blanco near Nerja in the east of Málaga province is a dream come true. It is simply stunning. My rental house, a former ice-cream parlour on Calle Real, is fantastic.

Back home work continues on Casa Real, my house in Montejaque, near Ronda. I take responsibility for gutting and retiling the downstairs bathroom in shades of black, grey and white.

Wednesday 24 March               On the suggestion of a friend I put our main home on the rental market for July and August. The publicity goes live on several websites today. We are soon fully booked for those two peak months.

***

It is now April and my wife continues to convalesce with family in Germany. She visits her niece Dana for a further 10 days of physiotherapy treatment. This goes so well, yet again, that she decides to fly home to Spain. She has been away for two and a half months!

***

Look out for Part II – Annus Mirabilis

Also of interest:

Covid-19 is a bastard! Don’t mess with it! A cautionary tale of our times (https://www.eyeonspain.com/blogs/covid19diary/21266/covid-19-is-a-bastard-dont-mess-with-it-a-cautionary-tale-of-our-times.aspx)