Visitors

Their jingly-jangly bells heralded their arrival long before they got here. I have often heard the goats way up in the campo, but today the goatherd brought them down the path at the back of my flat.

There they stayed for an hour, munching on some delicious fresh shoots and even getting up on hind legs to snaffle some tasty lower leaves from the trees.

One of my strongest memories of coming to Spain in the early sixties is the sound of the goats passing behind my parents' villa, and this brought it all back. 

They would be walking through a thousand houses now, so much has changed since then.