(By Mandy Vellacott in Malaga)

Did you do the sensible thing?  You know – the research stuff?  Did you?  Well that is very commendable – we didn’t!!

You know how something just builds in your mind.  Make the mistake of watching “A Place in the Sun” too many times and all of a sudden you want to move.  (Actually I had wanted to move long before that – but now my other half did too.  This is good – both having the same goals.)  It was at this point that good sense deserted us and we just decided we would go for it – go and live in Spain.  I know, what’s wrong with that?  Nothing except that we had both been to Spain precisely once, not together and not to the part we were looking at.

Never let it be said that we allowed good sense to get in the way.  PAH!!! We decided first to look at the Costa de la Luz – beautiful, very Spanish, quiet, stunning beaches – nice Atlantic sea!  Anyway we were sold – on the Mediterranean coast – flights to Malaga from home town Exeter (for visitors you understand) hospitals (just in case) people, businesses and therefore hopefully jobs.

That was November – basic area chosen.  Back we came in February.  Now the weather in November 2003, was absolutely perfect; just what we were coming to Spain for.  The weather in February 2004 was just about as bad as it could get.  Still the trusty hire car took us from Calahonda as far as Nerja and Antequera and many parts in between.  We finally returned in July of that year having sold our house in Devon and found a house that we liked and the rest as they say is history.

You can see from the above that logic and good sense never reared their ugly heads at all.  Exactly one year after we said – “why not” – we were here.  Us, Shammal and Rocky (our two Spaniels) and a lorry load of personal possessions most of which we could probably have lived without.

Now – I am not really advocating that “devil may care” attitude particularly if you have kids (which we don’t) or health issues or if you need to make a living.

Naively I thought – learn the language, have a few months off and then go and find a job.  You remember the PAH! above?  Well double PAH!! now.  Suffice to say I eventually retrained as a Holistic Therapist which I wanted to do anyway and I make a living between doing that, helping out a friend in her dog grooming salon, hand-painting t shirts (don’t ask where that idea came from because I haven’t a clue but it’s quite successful) and I have just started an Internet Marketing business which is proving successful.  Much juggling of time but hey… never a dull moment!

So if you ask did we come for the easy life – I would say “yes of course” and if you ask did we get it “of course not!!  But it’s fun”!

Welcome Mandy – we look forward to reading more of your adventures in Malaga. Rob (Editor)

Mandy lives in Malaga Province with her husband Derek and assorted dogs and cats.  She likes to dabble in many artistic pursuits including writing. Loves her life! For more see Mandy’s blog

Live Life NOW!

– the Alicante and Murcia regions biggest and best FREE magazine.

Our content is original, topical and provides you with the best read in the area.

September edition is out now and is packed full of great articles and features:

Butterfly Maids and Painted Pigeons – Orihuela

Villena – a wealth of ancient history

Bibliomaniac Page – Book News, Reviews and Free Competition

Intro to Living in Spain from DWP

I’ve Been Reformed

El Cortes Ingles

Potted tale of invasions and recon quest

Ser to be or not to be….

Rob’s Bits and Bobs Page – Summer Special

Interview with – Paul Vickery

Plus all our usual regulars:

Web & Computer Problems Solved! Monthly Cycling Tips (advice and routes) Gardening, Motoring, Popular Music, Summer Fun, Gadget Page, Photography, European Kitchen, Horoscopes, Hondon Valley  and Campo Golf – Golf Society, Car Boot sale information

and Free Competitions – win 50€, win FREE books…

25% discount on Derek Workman’s Books only for TIM readers.

ALSO see the adverts and classifieds for all of your services, bars, restaurants, shops, estate agents, trades, great bargains and much much more!

Contact Nickie on 606 891 644 to discuss your business/private ads.

Pick up your FREE copy or click below to view on line and download for FREE.

Remember – We lead – others follow, for previous editions see this blog site or

Visit here http://www.issuu.com/timadmin

By Derek Workman

Sauntering the streets of any city eventually gives you your own ‘patch’. I don’t mean a small area of green – usually wilting – but somewhere you gravitate to, whatever the time of day, when you need to get out of the house and take a walk.  Nowhere is better than anywhere else, mainly, I suppose, because it’s yours. What you see in a ten-minute stroll is probably totally different to what anyone else sees – but so what, it’s your patch. You may live within two hundred metres of my flat but your patch will be different. Mine revolves around a barrio called Ruzafa in the centre of Valencia.

I wander into a Bolivian bar. I’ve been here often enough for a quiet beer, but this weekend it’s fiesta time so the place is packed. The music is probably really good Latino, but I can’t hear it above the noisy family chat at the tables. Gracias a Dios, at least here the spoken word – more often shouted word – gets precedence over a €15.65 CD of Los Mejores Canciones de …….

I lean on the bar. In a John Wayne movie the peons sat at the table nursing their half glass of beer would have glanced out of the corner of their collective eye and settled into an uncomfortable silence, waiting to see ‘wut the stainger wus hea faw’ while he ordered his shot of Red Eye. Me…I’m totally ignored, mainly by the barmaid who is completely enraptured by the dusky, low-slung hombre with the shoulder tattoo and nearly razored skull. He’s the sunny side of nineteen, I’m in the shadows of – well, never you mind – bald, a bit overweight, skin like a recently discovered Aramaic parchment. Even I’d ignore me!

Eventually I’m rescued by a lady of a certain age wearing a pair of surgical rubber gloves. I’m not certain exactly what her age is, but at least it’s closer to mine than the infatuated chica salivating over tattoo boy at the end of the bar. Somewhere between a badly done to forty-five and a pretty nifty sixty-two, I’d guess, given the grey hair and slight – more than slight, actually – over-trouser roll not quite hidden under the loose polo shirt. Still, who am I to argue – at least she’s got hair, and my polo shirt hangs like an A-frame dress.

I toy with the idea of what the rubber gloves are for but my fantasies are soon floored when she plunges her hands into a sink full of dirty glasses, rinses one and pulls me a glass of beer. I drink it and leave, ruminating on the possibilities of buxom wench and a pair of Marigolds.

If you would like to know more about Spain, visit my web site, www.derekworkman-journalist.com , and http://derekworkman.wordpress.com . http://valpaparazzi.wordpress.com are random thoughts about life in Spain.

It’s 4am. The bus is parked up in a service station. Just outside Albacete.  A group of weary travellers cluster around the door, talking to the driver, their fags like glow worms in the night.

The cafeteria area smells faintly of sick and bleach. It’s almost deserted, dozing – a woman scrutinising her finger nails at the cash desk a man with a broom and us. Sandwiches too tired, dry, expensive.

The man who’s been sitting next to me on the bus may well be Ethiopian or Somali – he looks like he’s from that part of Africa but as he speaks neither English nor Castilian I’ll never know. There are Moroccans too – lots of Moroccans and South Americans, mainly Ecuadorians.

In Albacete a man with a henna streaked beard, a hat made of carpet fabric, one of those long shirts, looking for all the world like someone in an Afghani Al Qaeda camp on the nine o’clock news and wearing the obligatory polyester anorak, got off the bus and disappeared into the night.

There are a few Spaniards too of course. No one looks rich to me. In fact, most look poor – dishevelled and tired. Like the plump woman with an ample backside inside tight black ski pants, high heels and with yellow accessories. An ensemble that screams market stall into the dark.

Four continents at least – continental drift.

I’m there too, lost in a strange country, another immigrant – the struggling poor.

At 4am on a bus bound for Madrid.

by Rob Innis

It’s August the mercury is in the 30+ region so summer is in full swing – or should I say Tango. A new feature for summer in Torrevieja is street entertainment. Whilst taking my ‘paseo’ last night I came across a couple in ‘Come Dancing’ mode demonstrating the Tango. Fortunately no Bruce Forsyth in sight (I love him really, I remember Generation Game)

The new remodelled town centre makes these impromptu displays a great addition to the usual street entertainment of being sold bootleg sunglasses and ‘Rolex’ watches. I sat watching the street vendors the other night. Whilst the ‘Lacoste’ polo shirts were shifting like hot cakes the guy pushing designer handbags was having less luck than Schumacher’s comeback attempts.

Another new arrival is the statues – you know the people dressed up in weird costumes standing totally still for hours. What a way to make a living, being static for money. Perhaps they got the idea from England’s footballers.

Whilst the AVE (see TIM August) project might be delayed arriving in Alicante, Torrevieja has its own version happily chugging around the town. So it might be a little slower, but the kids seem happy enough waving from the carriages as it negotiates its way along the prom and through the marina.

Those wishing to choose a greener mode of transport can opt for the pony and trap offering a more nostalgic ride around town. Should also benefit the roses as well.

Parking spaces are at a premium as the restaurants overflow out onto the street with their tables occupying those precious spaces. More French around this year, you can tell from the F on the cars plates. Maybe a sign of the crisis as our prices are cheaper for dîner avec le vin than St Tropez. Found some Francais struggling with the local map who, it turned out, were seeking the street market. Combination of English/Spanish/French directions set them off in the right direction, I hope.

Don’t forget one of the summer’s highlights – the Bikini Bash August 28^th, Campoamor Beach (south of Torrevieja). See page 34 in the August TIM for the full details. The event is an attempt at the Guinness Book of Records and you might even end up in a charity calendar.

Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I hope you enjoy your summer.

Our content is original, topical and provides you with the best read in the area.

August edition is out now and is packed full of great articles and features:

Cartagena Coast

The Garden Roses

A Great Englishman in Madrid

The Olive Mill

I’ve Been Reformed

Spain Going Green Part 3 – The AVE

Interview: Ricky Valance

Beach Awareness

Models Wanted!!

Bibliomaniac Page – Book News, Reviews and Competitions

Plus all our usual regulars:

Fitness & Health, Motoring, Popular Music, Summer Fun, Gadget Page, Photography, European Kitchen, Horoscopes, Golf, Car Boot sale information

and Free Competitions – win 50€, FREE books………….

ALSO see the adverts and classifieds for all of your services, bars, restaurants, shops, estate agents, trades, great bargains and much much more!

Contact Nickie on 606 891 644 to discuss your business ads.

Pick up your FREE copy or click below to view on line and download for FREE.

Remember – We lead – others follow, for previous editions see this blog site or

Visit here http://issuu.com/timadmin

By TJ Miles

I am often asked ‘What is the difference between a professional artist and an international professional artist?’

The truthful answer is that a professional artist struggles to make a living in their home country while an international one struggles to make a living in half a dozen or more countries at the same time. There are many obvious benefits to this lifestyle – unlimited travel opportunities, rich cultural experiences and the glitzy, glamorous life of the rich and famous. Yeah, right, don’t believe it for a moment. A lot of time spent in uncomfortable airport lounges, waiting on ever late connections and don’t even mention ash clouds!

The biggest problem is one of servicing all the galleries with new works on a constant basis to keep them excited enough in you and your work, so they will continue to keep you at the top of their stable of artists, and therefore continue to sell your work. No personal visits to the galleries equals no gallery interest, which in turn leads to no sales for the poor artist.

In today’s downtrodden, crisis-riddled art market it is vitally important to keep working towards the end of the current global financial difficulties. It’s a case of working harder just to stay in the same position. This goes for all businesses at the moment, as I am sure you are all aware.

I have had the privilege of experiencing some amazing journeys over the last year or so in relation to my art. China, Mongolia and Russia; Denmark, Turkey and Norway. All wonderful memories that will remain long after the exhibitions are over.

During this extended summer season, in between bouts of Spanish sunshine, I will have occasion to visit art galleries in France, England, Ireland, Germany and Italy as well as, hopefully, the Czech Republic and maybe even Hungary.

Even though my journeys will take me far and wide I will attempt to continue writing up my articles while traveling to give you an insight of the world through artistic eyes.

Blog: http://tjmilesart.blogspot.com
Website: www.tjmiles.com Website: www.irishart-works.com Website: www.artinspain.eu

I encourage, cajole (OK beg a little) the contributors and write the occasional post myself.

The site traffic stats are another little job I look at now and again – and this is where my happiness and confusion sets in.

Stop Press – Just gone through the 10,000 hits!

The happiness – because already this month we have three times the June hits (and that was not a bad month) and it is only the 21st of the month.

The confusion because I would love to know why the sudden dramatic increase – are you a new visitor? Where did you see the link or were you searching? – please leave a comment and reveal all.

Yes yes I know all you teckys out there are thinking why does he not get a detailed traffic stats package then he would know every time a site visitor sneezed.

But I thought I would try the personal approach first……..link with your readers.

By Rob Innis

Expats frequently muse on the differences between Spanish and English culture. How they love to eat, talk, spend time with their family etc. Probably one of the many pleasures of being an Expat is too observe these behaviours and reflect that perhaps we Brits have something to learn.

Over the last month or so we have witnessed probably the worlds 2^nd biggest event – The World Cup (after the Olympics?) I opted to watch most of Spain’s matches in my local bar including the final.

From the very young to the ‘tercera edad’ aged Granddads, all were involved and included, shouting, cheering, clapping and of course blowing horns or sounding off klaxons.

I have followed football for over 40 years. I can remember the victorious English in 1966 (thankfully – as it may never happen again in my lifetime) and was at Wembley for my teams one FA Cup final appearance (which they won)

After Spain won Euro 2008 (beating Germany 1-0) I remember phoning my Spanish brother-in-law and saying ‘Next the World Cup’ to which he replied ‘That’s tougher with the South American teams’

But the way the draw worked out we (the Spanish) only played Chile and Paraguay, probably some of the easier South American teams the biggest challenge came from Europe with Portugal, Germany and finally Holland.

At each match the Spanish fans were confident that they would win – they displayed absolute faith that the Spanish players were good enough to triumph. Even at 1-0, especially against the Germans, I always thought the opposition would equalise. Whilst those around me remained relatively calm I was always the one (the only Brit in the bar) more nervous than them!

No criticism was ever forthcoming – if things did go temporarily wrong, there was no whinging about the manager, tactics, selection and of course no sex scandals to debate for them. (Was that the underlying cause of England’s non performances?)

Another difference is the Spanish ability to absorb the noise – do they have a different ear drums to us Brits, more able to cope with simultaneous klaxons causing the walls of the bar to shake.

Well we waited a long time for the winning goal – but the Spanish always knew it would come, and it did sending the whole town into a frenzy of fireworks, drums, klaxons and car horns until deep into the night.

An army of cleaners were in action this morning cleaning up the town – but they were all smiling after all they are Campeones, exactly what they expected since kick off.

By Culebronchris

Fancy staying in an old castle or monastery? Then one of the state chain of hotels, a Parador, may well be for you. Paradores are a product of a dictatorship in Spain, probably not the last one but the one before. The dictatorship of Miguel Primo de Rivera that lasted from 1923 till 1930. Primo thought that well heeled tourists might come to Spain bringing plenty of spending money if there were somewhere pleasant and interesting for them to stay.

The first Parador was built in the Gredos mountain range and in some ways it’s a much more normal Parador than the stereotypical converted fortress or nunnery that hotel chain tend to use in their advertising nowadays. When we turned up there one dull, wet day the building looked like something from the Scottish Highlands. The original building has been added to so that parts are modern and parts are old. It’s been done with style – all wood, grey slate, overstuffed chairs and brass standard lamps but it is essentially new build.

The second Parador was built in 1929 in Ciudad Rodrigo a town that I lived in for a while. We used to take our guests there for a cup of coffee. It never failed to impress, a real 14th Century castle with battlements and halberds on the wall.

There are plenty of Paradores that are new but they are usually in splendid locations. Clipped lawns and large swimming pools overlooking the sea or halfway up some tree covered mountain. Nearly all of the hotels provide themed holidays or specialist packages – bird watching or painting here, mountaineering and folk dancing there. Christmas breaks, New Years celebrations and any other date on which they can hang an event.

I’ve only stayed in about four of five Paradores but I’ve eaten in or at least had a drink in lots more. In most of them the restaurant and bar staff will wear the traditional costume of the area and the restaurant will specialise in local food. The food and drink isn’t cheap but it isn’t outrageous either. They do veggie too as a matter of course. You can still get a menu Del dia for around 30€ though the drinks aren’t usually included. It’s the same with the rooms, pricey but not exorbitant especially if you hunt out one of the, always available, deals.

I like Paradores, they have a certain charm but they can be disappointing. The one in Albacete for instance I remember as looking like a builders cabin set in the middle of a wasteland. The coffee bar was littered with old napkins. We didn’t stay. The one in Ceuta, where we had a room, was blessed with terribly slow bar service and high quality but down at heel rooms. Often the bars are deserted and after the obligatory gawp at the oil paintings and coats of armour you begin to wonder if the bar is actually open. Nonetheless, when someone does come to serve you they will be highly apologetic and I’ve often thought that the staff make up for any deficiencies of the general management of these hotels.

Rooms vary; most are much like any modern hotel but some are terrific, designed to fit in with the ambience of the place – four poster beds, oil paintings and high, vaulted ceilings. The restaurants are nearly always good and usually pretty busy. It’s the sort of place that Spaniards take their Granny to celebrate her birthday, the sort of place where tourists wear linen trousers and Spaniards their chinos and Ben Sherman’s.

If you’re anywhere close to a Parador and you see the sign why not go and have a quick shufti. Decide for yourself.

http://lifeinculebron.blogspot.com/