WHO'S WHO IN VEJER
YOUR
HOSTS
THE
house has been owned by journalists Singapore-based
Eric Ellis and London-based
Peter
Wilson since December 1991. We operate the place under the strict "NJJ"
credo, or No Junketing Journalists, apart from themselves and partners
Sara Webb and
Pilita
Clark of course.
We've
bored polite cocktail and dinner parties the world over about the house, the
suggestion of "Continental property" good for a passing bit of snob
value and the whiff of Onassis-like exoticism.
The
reality in Vejer is quite different but let not that put you off being our guests. The
other curious thing is that we often meet people, media types mostly, who we don't know but have been
to our house, suggesting the afore-mentioned NJJ rule is not as strictly adhered
to as we might like to think.
NEIGHBOURS
WE’VE
talked a lot about our neighbours Thereza and Antonio at No. 21 Calle San Juan,
the house across the street. They are both very dear and very important to us,
not just because they keep an eye on the place in our absence. They are lovely
people, Thereza a lover of street theatre and something of the queen of Calle
San Juan and
Antonio very quiet and a very solid, reliable fellow. Neither have a bad bone in
their body. They speak next to no English except Antonio’s “very good” and “you
can see Morocco,” the latter he has overheard from Eric up on the roof
admiring the view with guests.
They are good, solid, country folk, Thereza a “traditional” wife and mother, Antonio finding work wherever he can get it, mostly in the building trade, and doing well. Thereza is colourful, something of a moralist but always up with the goss, Antonio makes out to ignore but he keeps an ear open anyway. They look after and watch over the house when we are not there, for which we pay them. Thereza waters the plants and does bits and pieces here and there. She is very house-proud, like most Spanish mums and thus is accustomed to coming and going in our place. She knows more about it than we do. That does not mean they are not discreet but she may, from time to time, knock on the door or call in and see if everything is OK. THEY ARE NOT SERVANTS OR THE HIRED HELP and please do not treat them as such. They will help when asked. Be nice to them, engage them in conversation as much as possible, even if it the basic “Hola, buenos dias” or “Hola, buen tiempo”, - “Hi, good day” or “Hi, nice weather.” If they’ve helped you out, its a nice idea to buy them a token present, perhaps a pot plant for Thereza and Fortuna cigarettes or Kaliber beers for Antonio. They recently extended their house so you might wish to take note of that, as it is the source of some pride. If you are really chummy, they'll take you up to their roof terrace for the view. "La vista estupendo" goes a long way at this point. Their twin mid-late 20’s daughters are Rosa and Mari. In June 2004, Thereza and Antiono became grandparents.
STREET LIFE
YOU MAY encounter the jolly Juani, who has the hole-in-the-wall knick-knack store around the corner. A rarely-spotted Seville family holidays in the old galeria next door, while a similarly invisible Danish family do the same directly across the street. From time-to-time, particularly if the front door is open (as is the custom in Vejer), old senoras doing the paseo may stop and gaze in, as does the occassional Moroccan or Senegalese rug-seller. That’s pretty normal because; 1) word has got around that foreigners own the house and the old girls want to check it out (let them if they seem to be aching to do so) or 2) they had a relative or knew someone who lived there years before. The African rug-sellers can be persuasive, but harmless.
Butaneros selling butane gas bottle replacements swing by twice a week on their little tractors and its always a good idea to grab them if the house's bottles are low. You may occassionally hear lottery ticket-sellers walking the streets and touting O.N.C.E (national foundation for the the blind) tickets and every so often old men on burros (mules) come by selling vegetables door-to-door from panier bags, a scene unchanged from the 19th Century.
Elsewhere, you will encounter the daily life of a working Andalucian village; a grave but courtly chemist, a thrusting insurance salesman with rather too much exposed chest hair, a cheery postie, old Francoistas reminiscing about the good old days of fascism, young chicos kicking their football around, chicas playing with make-up, boisterous stallholders and a rushing priest (of course). If your Spanish and personal PR are good, you can catch up on the latest village scandals at any bar of the 40-odd at your disposal.
What you won't see much of are other foreigners, although there was disturbing recent news that the English actor Jude Law were looking to buy in the 'new Tuscany.'
They must have heard we bought here in 1991.