And so another adventure begins. It occurred to me that Spain is wild, warmer than a British winter, as hot – hotter – than a Costa Rican summer, complex, under-explored, cultural, passionate, and home to Rioja, padrones, jamon serrano, flamenco, Javier Bardem and landscapes that are abstract art. The detritus of Spain’s long history – senorial mansions, grand cortijos, churches, palaces and moorish towers – lies over the land like glacial moraine. I don’t know about cultural stereotypes but the Spaniards I have met here and abroad are warm, curious, urbane, and I like the peculiar hours they keep. No one of these reasons justifies the decision to have my boxes and car sent to Cadiz, but there we go. Now I need to find a house. New year, new continent, new places to explore.