Despite the tense atmosphere, this is a wonderful place. The house is set on the dusty hillside near a handful of smaller casitas, various tool sheds, and a copse of pine trees. The hills roll on in every direction, with the village Sella visible in the south and the sea in the east. The steep slopes have been landscaped over centuries into terrace steps, now covered with olive and almond trees.
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| Extensive: the farmland and village beyond. |
From the house, a narrow winding path leads up to the next terrace. Past the chicken coop and a vegetable garden lies our wwoofer room and tent. You can take steps down to the orchard below where tomatoes, avocados, oranges, lemons and even kaki (persimmon) are growing. There are two black dogs running about, mother and daughter, and at least nine cats. The seven chickens are eager to be released from their coop, then eager to go back in again. Perhaps they remember what happened to five of their friends when a rogue dog in the area recently chanced upon them.
One evening I was watering the vegetation when I experienced one of those moments where time seems to stop. The light from the setting sun caught the spray from the hose producing a vivid, glistening rainbow. The tapered mountainside beyond formed a fitting backdrop, harsh dry brown, with the olive trees patches of life against the dust.
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