Quintin Jardine's blog

The last two weeks have not been the most stressful of my life, but they’ve been up there, no mistake.

At the end of November, Eileen and I went out to Spain with no clear idea of what was going to happen. As it transpired, we moved house, something that has been on our agenda for the last twelve months and more. After eighteen years on the hill it was time for the house that we created and tweaked to pass into new and younger hands, and for us to find accommodation more suited to our needs.

We are happy to say that both ends of the process were completed more smoothly than we could ever have imagined. The physical side, though, that was a bugger. Frankly I would never have got through it without the help of my stepson, mi hijastro, Dominic Paul Harry Abernethy. Dom, you’re pure gold.

And one other: our amazing lawyer, Anna Abad, who overcame one hiccup and glitch after another, and even drove us to the station when it was all done. God bless you, Anna.

We’re on the plane home now after a fortnight camping in LaMod and living on sandwiches. A nod to you too Starkis. Our best wishes for the future go to Theresa and William, and our thanks to Carlos and Merce.

Adios.