From Sierras Subbéticas, Andalucía
This is the Andalucía I'd come to love. Peaceful olive groves with the nets of harvesters spread out below centuries-old trees. Shadowy hills and pointy peaks rising up in the distance with a white village perched below like an oasis in a desert. Wild mushrooms growing underneath holm oaks. Stone farmhouses decaying like dying oak trees.

I unpacked my picnic, found a shady spot and lingered long in the moment.

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From Sierra de Arcena, Andalucía
Adela cleared away the last evidence of a seven-course tasting menu. She beamed with pride as I heaped praise on the delicacy of the carpaccio, the intensity of the honey-glazed goats cheese, the sweetness of the tomato and fig soup.

Orange wine followed, then coffee. But it wasn't just about the food. What filled the experience with joy was that for four hours we put our phones away and lingered over the food, the wine, the fire and the company.

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From Sierras Subbéticas, Andalucía
As we walked, we collected up last season's cornicabras - the gulls of the turpentine tree. They get their name from their distinctive form; goat (cabra) horn (cuerno).

Turns out, when these oddities dry up, they smell great when you burn them - hence their name 'incienso de campesino' - incense of the peasant. Their warm, bonfire-like smell has fragranced our Brighton office ever since I brought back a fistful of them.

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From Seville, Andalucía
From each float, thousands of tiny sweets came sailing to the masses of outstretched Sevillian arms, most settling into the darkness amid a throng of feet. I finally caught one, thanks to the reach of a chap who'd missed his calling in life as a quarterback.

I offered it to the young girl next to me, who hesitated shly before accepting it with a smile. Today I wasn't a stranger. I belonged to an electric sense of pride, of collective belonging.

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From Sierra de Aracena, Andalucía
William Wordsworth would have approved of his descendents' B&B. He'd have approved of the location, nestled between the rolling forested hills of Aracena. He'd have approved of the cooking, ingredients sourced locally and organically in one of Spain's great food regions.

And he'd have approved of the message from the great man himself, awaiting me on my pillow: "fill your paper with the breathings of your heart".

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From Córdoba, Andalucía
Reflecting on the photos I took inside the Mezquita, there’s an unmistakable feeling that, no matter from what angle you stand you just can’t quite capture the overwhelming sense of awe that you get upon first entering and being greeted by a sea of perfect red and white arches.

You can travel from the Celtic Sea to the Caspian Sea and from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Gulf of Finland and you won't find anything quite like it in all of Europe.

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From Sierras Subbéticas, Andalucia
Under a blue Andalucían sky, we traversed sunny olive groves and walked past quince, almond and pomegranate trees on our way to the little white village of Almedinilla.

That night, as Davinia - a devotee of the Slow Food movement - proudly ran through each ingredient of each course, their fruits would reappear on my dinner plate. All so fresh, so organic and so locally-sourced that I could have picked them myself as I walked.

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From Sierras Subbéticas, Andalucía
Beyond the famous Moorish monuments, the narrative of Reconquest history develops away from the crowds. I shared a morning at the hilltop citadel of Alcalá la Real with perhaps a dozen or so people. The Catholic Monarchs launched their final assult on Granada from up here, yet there were times when it felt like my wife and I had the place to ourselves.

In the distance rise the snowy peaks of the Sierra Nevada, with a carpet of olive trees below.

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From Costa de la Luz, Andalucía
A still, warm autumn evening in the village square and the air is softly filled with voices, the ebb and flow of conversations, greetings and laughter. The children of the village play, disappearing and reappearing noisily as they roam the cobbled streets.

No cars, no phones, only the hum of people, young and old, enjoying each other’s company. That is the sound of Andalucía.

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From Granada, Andalucía
I told owner Antonio that I wanted to give a standing ovation at every break. He smiled and said "me too, we only invite the best dancers. It's a privilege to watch them." Indeed, the guitarist had just won a national contest, the female dancer came second.

To see world class flamenco up close in Granada, come here. Or as Antonio says "you can go up to the caves and have a very different experience, here it is just flamenco, flamenco, flamenco."

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From Sierras Subbéticas, Andalucía
New Years Eve 2018. Amid a sea of shadowy olive trees and below a blanket of stars, José was getting excited, beaming his laser all the way to the feintly red surface of Mars. I peered through his telescope at a star two-million light years away. Time is boundless, the universe infinite.

I distinctly remember feeling so utterly insignificant by comparison. Life is too short, too precious to waste. Far better to indulge yourself in Andalucía.

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From Grazalema, Andalucía
I love driving in Andalucía. The going is easy, the roads quiet, the distances short and the scenery so often is utterly spectacular. There are times when all you want to do is pull over, switch off the engine and gawp at the view that has just unveiled itself through your windscreen.

You're not just getting from A to B, because driving is often a sightseeing act in itself.

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