Two Middle-aged Ladies in Andalusia

by Penelope Chetwode, Candida Lycett-Green (Foreword)

Undeterred by remote and almost savage country, a primitive peasant population and inns evidently medieval in their crudity, Penelope Chetwode's sole companion on her ride over the disused mule tracks and goat paths in the wilds of Andalusia was the 12-year-old bay mare, La Marquesa. This story of their adventure together offers a vivid picture of life in rural Andalusia.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Spain, Memoir, History, Adventure, Autobiography

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1963

About the author

Penelope Valentine Hester Chetwode, Lady Betjeman was an English travel writer. She was the wife of poet laureate Sir John Betjeman. She was born at Aldershot and grew up in northern India, returning to the region in later life.

She is best known for Two Middle-Aged Ladies in Andalusia (1963), her account of travelling through southern Spain on horseback in the summer of 1961.

Reviews

[Daren · Rating 3 out of 5]

I chose this book because I was looking specifically for something I could finish before I had to head away for a few days for work - typically I will start a new book when away to ensure I don't run out!
This is a slim book or 150 pages, but for me it didn't read quickly at all. In fact it could have been 250 or 280 pages the way I slogged through it, and didn't finish it until after I returned from being away! But I have gotten ahead of myself.

The two middle-aged ladies of the title, are the author Penelope Chetwode, and The Marquesa, a twelve year old mare borrowed for their journey, as alluded to, in Andalusia, Spain in 1961. Although I have never been to Andalusia (or even Spain) it has always appealed to me; in fact upon leaving New Zealand for the first time some decades ago, Spain and Morocco were the two places I had intended to visit - and never have I visited either! And, I have sidetracked myself from this review again... and the reason is probably because I struggle to pinpoint exactly why I didn't enjoy this book as much as I had hoped.

It is perhaps a charming read. Ms Chetwode is an amusing and interesting traveller, albeit far more religiously focussed that my normal travel companions (real or literary!). She does spend a lot of her narrative finding out the starting time of mass in each village she stays, then attends, explaining to her readers the topic of the service. Ms Chetwode would often attend the same mass twice, as this was one of her primary ways of familiarising herself with the Spanish language, although I am not sure quite what use some of the topics were to her in everyday communication. She did also have a dictionary!

She also focussed quite heavily on the stabling conditions for The Marquesa and indeed her own stabling conditions and what she ate in each meal. This held far greater focus in the writing than I was interested in, and while the scenery was described, and the conditions of travel were covered, they often played second or perhaps third fiddle to this more practical diary-type information. Second fiddle, then, was taken up by the people she met on the road or in the villages and people she stayed with. There were also various high society people she met from time to time - governors and the like.

For me anyway, this lacked interest, and I had to work harder than I like at staying interest. I see from other reviews, that other readers felt otherwise.

For me this was not more than 3 stars.

[Debbie Zapata · Rating 5 out of 5]

I re-read this book for a summer challenge task. I discovered it years ago in the library, and loved reading about Chetwode's solitary horseback tour through the Andaluz area of Spain. I never saw a copy at any of the used book sales, but a few years ago my Mom did and bought it for me. This might be the very library book I read originally, who knows?

Penelope Chetwode from England was a horsewoman and a bit of an adventuress. In the autumn of 1961, at age 51, she went to Spain after reading about conducted riding tours in Andalusia. She admits that in England she would never stoop to being part of a tour group, but she knew next to no Spanish and had no maps, so she thought a tour would be a good first step. But by the end of the first chapter, she had finished the tour, learned some key phrases in Spanish, planned her solo route, and even found herself a horse, courtesy of her friend The Duke Of Wellington. He had written to her suggesting she go to his farm (presented by Spain to the original Iron Duke in gratitude for driving Napoleon out of the country) and pick a horse there. So she meets La Marquesa, the Marchioness, a sweet-tempered bay mare who proved to be a wonderful choice for a
month-long cross country ride.

The book made me feel that I was riding along with the ladies. Chetwode was a wise and non-judgmental woman who immersed herself in her adventure, becoming accustomed to everything from the language to extremely basic sanitary facilities to unusual foods. Well, okay, maybe not as accustomed to the food. There were some bits of dinner now and then that even towards the end of her trip she was slipping to the convenient cats under the tables of the local posadas (inns).

I chuckled over the little things that tickled Chetwode. From the first time she was asked to show her papers to her many mis-adventures with a certain river she met each event with gusto. Even when she caught a cold and had to have a series of penicillin injections, she ended up having interesting conversations with the nurse who gave the shots. (He had read Don Quixote, which Chetwode was studying as she went, but he admitted to preferring Homer.)

About that river, the Guadalquivir. Seems the country around it was very hilly, and she got lost more than once while trying to either cross the river or ride to the source one afternoon or simply find a nice path going in the direction she needed to follow. Towards the end of her journey she left the town of Ubeda and....well, I will let Chetwode set the scene: "I had planned to go to a little mountain pueblo called Bedmar on the far side of the valley but it was a foregone conclusion that I would get lost because I was coming within the sphere of influence of my arch-enemy, the wicked river Guadalquivir." And yes, she did get a bit lost this time too, not to mention having to ride all afternoon in the rain, but the day turned out to be a success anyway.

I would have loved to travel with Chetwode. She admitted to having the urge to follow all the little trails she encountered, just to see where they would go. I had that feeling back in my riding days, and I still have it now when the only feet I use are my own. She has been a wonderful companion during these last few days, and I know I will ride through Spain with her again someday.

[Jola · Rating 3 out of 5]

Review to come.

[Judith Johnson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book - it has many elements of which I am deeply fond, among them eccentric Englishwomen, horses, travel, and things Spanish! I read it some years back, but one of the enduring images which remain in my memory is the description of a night spent sharing a bed with a male stranger over the stables after a meal of bean stew, the (only) dish of the day of an almost medieval posada.

Great stuff!

My English aunt bought a house and piece of land in a Catalan fishing village in the early 1960s and opened a campsite. What a different place that village is today. For those interested in reading about some of the ravages brought about in Spain by the development of the tourism industry, I can highly recommend Norman Lewis’s non-fiction memoir Voices of The Old Sea. In fact, I would highly recommend any book by Lewis, a master wordsmith in my opinion.

[Kristy Ann · Rating 4 out of 5]

“... you can see the bridle roads leading over the plains and the sierras in every direction and to an addict the sight is intoxicating. Everyone has his weaknesses: some people run after women, others after Dukes; I run after priests and along carriles which, with their alluring sinuous ways, are gravely tempting me to throw all my family duties to the wind and go on riding along them forever.”

[Sandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

My copy of this delightful travel story is secondhand, a slim hardback book with an onion skin thin duck egg blue paper cover. The silhouette on the front of the two ladies – Penelope Chetwode, wife of poet John Betjeman, and her steed Marquesa – is echoed inside in a black and white photograph of the pair. This is a quick read and has the feeling of being written up from her daily notebook, which gives it a charm and immediacy. Chetwode clearly loves the people she meets and the countryside she explores on her borrowed horse Marquesa, on a circular trip through the hills between Granada and Úbeda in Andalucía in 1961. She glimpses a world which would be recognised by other literary travellers through Andalucía, from Richard Ford and Washington Irving to Laurie Lee and Chris Stewart. The poverty and generosity of the people she meets, the love for animals, the mystical stories of the hills, the cave-dwellers, juxtaposed on rare occasions with 1960s cars, bars, doctors and shops. She gets a buzz when she is given directions along a mule track and hears the warning ‘camin muy malo’, very bad road, and off the two ladies go into the wild of scrub and hill. The details of her daily existence are fascinating, where she sleeps, what she eats, what the horse eats, the people she meets on the road and in the posadas, roadside inns with stables, where she stays. She painstakingly improves her Spanish, starting from the point of reciting facts about herself and so discouraging questions she cannot understand: “I am English, I am on a tour in these mountains, I have come from the farm of the English Duke of Wellington and Ciudad Rodrigo. That [pointing to the stable] is his mare. I have come from London to Madrid in an aeroplane.” All of this is punctuated with descriptions of the churches she finds, masses she attends, and comparisons with poetry and art. Charming.

[Jane Armour · Rating 4 out of 5]

A charming book about a 51 year old English woman (the wife of John Betjeman) riding through Andalusia on a bay mare (the other middle-aged lady!) in 1961. She borrows the mare, La Marquesa, from her friend the Duke of Wellington.

It’s a beautiful, charming tale of their month long journey along, predominantly, mule tracks, staying in pousadas, eating weird and wonderful food, being in nature, meeting the locals along the way and in the pousadas and small pueblos and improving her basic Spanish along the way.

For me, there was just a bit too much religion and I found the constant going to mass somewhat boring and repetitive but interesting descriptions of some of the rural churches and religious processions.

My stepdad lent me this book and it has my granny’s name written on the inside cover. It is also a fave of my auntie Sue’s who lives in Portugal and travelled a lot to Spain in her younger years so I imagine this was a gift to my granny (her mum) which made it a special read for me!

[Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Penelope Chetwode, wife of John Betjeman, the English poet, provides a fascinating account of her travels through Andalucía, southern Spain on horseback. The second middle-aged lady of the title is actually the horse, La Marquesa. The author describes her adventures as she journeys from posada to posada in the 1960s with great enthusiasm and cheerfulness, and it's obvious how much she enjoys horses and the lifestyle and people of rural Spain.

[Christine · Rating 3 out of 5]

A well-connected English lady goes for a month-long horseback tour of rural Andalusia. A nice dip back in time, but full of uncomfortable allusions to privilege and somewhat outdated conceptions of society.
I could imagine the riding, which was nice.

[Alba Cantón · Rating 5 out of 5]

Me han fascinado las aventuras de Penelope Chetwode y Marquesa por el sur de España. Gracias a la traductora, Marta Jiménez Miranda, por ser la impulsora de traer esta historia por primera vez al castellano y por un trabajo tan impecable. Recomendadísimo!

[Phil · Rating 4 out of 5]

At the age of 51, Chetwode borrows a 12-year-old mare to go trekking around Andalusia, hence the 'two middle-aged ladies' of the title. Travelling on horseback enabled her to visit areas that would have been inaccessible by car, and travelling alone (apart from her rather stroppy mount, La Marquesa) meant that she could lodge with local families, thus providing a very personal insight into Andalusian rural life in the early 1960s.

I was impressed by Chetwode's bravery, travelling so far on her own, especially as her grasp of the language was limited (and no Google translate in those days!) "When you are still in the elementary stages of learning a language your only hope is to talk yourself, to prevent people talking to you, as they are sure to introduce tenses with which you are not yet familiar." This practice leads to some very funny moments, such as when she is waiting for her landlady to show her to her room, and is coming very close to running out of things to say to the locals gathered in the entrance hall. The monologue becomes ever more random and detailed as she tries to stave off anyone asking her questions she won't understand " 'Sunday, I have been to Moclin, Monday to Colomera, Wednesday to Torre Cardela...' No sign of my landlady. 'My husband is in Australia, he is a poet. I have a daughter of nineteen...' Still no sign of my landlady...'In Spain you fight bulls, in England we hunt foxes...' Surely I have been talking for twenty minutes? And still no sign of my landlady." At another point, she makes an unsuccessful attempt to communicate to one gentleman the meaning of the name Felipe. "He failed to understand why I was comparing him to a hippopotamus but smiled appreciatively all the same."

I loved Chetwode's respect for the people she met, and also her lack of prejudice. At the time, British people viewed the Spanish as being cruel to animals, but Chetwode rightly points out that many British people of the time were indulging in sports which caused just as much suffering to animals as bullfighting did.

She loved the extensive landscape, and seemed to find it a strong link with her Catholic faith, commenting that it "gives you an insight into Eternity: it is so vast and so beautiful and so still that you would like it to go on for ever" and that the friendliness and unselfishness of the local people "added to the extraordinary beauty of their countryside, made me feel that I had ridden through the garden of Paradise before the Fall."

I've noticed that some reviews complain about the number of times she discusses care for her horse or arrangements for attending Mass. While it's true that both feature quite a lot in this book, it didn't bother me. I would have been more surprised by a Catholic convert travelling in a strongly Catholic country not referring to Mass, while it is natural for someone who is travelling long distance on horseback to spend a good amount of time caring for their mount. A horse isn't like a car, something to be 'parked and ignored' until you next need it!

It's true that not a great deal happens in this book, but if you enjoy tales of 'slow' travel from the past, I recommend this little window on 1960s life in rural Andalusia.

[Katie Walter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Book group book.

This is one of those travel books that in many ways says much more about the author than about the place or the time. It was hard at times to see beyond the lens of the religious, bordering on pious, upper middle class, bordering on aristocratic. Definitely not a forerunner of the Swinging Sixties.

But there was quiet stubbornness in just getting on with what must have been a really unusual journey at the time. And her religion actually gave a thread to her journey, linking her in to the community, an immediate connection to the people she met in a way that superceded language or nationality. I liked her humbleness of being very happy just to muck in with the families. And although religion isn't a big deal for me, it was for her and for the people she met, and that does surely reflect place and time.

I was hoping to get more of a sense of the every day political life of what was mid Franco era; but she skirted past that, only making very brief reference to it. So I got irritated by her entitled world view several times but caught myself thinking - I'm not all that different on my fancy new bike swanning around foreign lands for weeks/months at a time.

The poverty, the rural isolation felt a bit glorified at times. I remember seeing a film of Llorca's Blood Wedding that was bleak bleak bleak set in arid landscape years ago when I was at school, and I found myself wishing for a good old dose of that.

Something did happen for me half through the book: a loosening in her tone. Having read up about her unhappy marriage to John Betjeman (I could only hear a lecherous libidinous "Miss Joan Hunter Dunn" echoing in my head, and think "poor woman"), this actually did feel like it was maybe a journey of recovery and reestablishing an identity for herself. "I run after priests and along carriles which, with their alluring sinuous ways, are gravely tempting me to throw all my family future to the wind and to go in riding along them forever": this struck me as really really sad but carrying a good kernel of rebellion!

A few random things: I loved the concept of a cosy-table. Her fusspotness at the injection was really surprising. I loved her bit about trees: "never before have I realised how friendly, how almost human, trees can be". And wowowo, "with regard to deliberate cruelty provoked by anger or by sexual aberration," : where on r eardid that come from!

So, glad I read it, a bit po-faced and humourless some of the time but there a fighter in there.

Love and war in the Appenines it ain't.

[Juan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought this book second hand in a bookshop in Galway, Ireland. I don’t know what I was hoping for, but travel literature, even more so if it’s the subgenre of British in Spain, I was in. I didn’t know it was so much my subgenre. As a matter of fact, this travelogue of a middle-aged British woman riding a mare (which accounts for the other middle-aged lady) through Eastern Andalucia starts not far from where I live, in Íllora, where she borrows her ride from the Duke of Wellinton, and goes through my very own town, Úbeda.
The travel takes places in the very early 60s, a bit before my own time. Penelope goes from “posada” to “posada” using dirt roads whenever she can, meeting the locals and the local security forces, and going to mass every single day. She loves the people, admires how local doctors are knowledgeable and the alphabetization of the masses, but also how they live in a happy Arcadia devoid of modern amenities like cars, and sometimes running water and electricity.
At the end of the day, she’s the proverbial foreigner that’s a trope in so many stories and used as a vehicle to introduce the reader to the world in book. Only, in this case, it’s if not my own world, a world where my parents lived and that is in many aspects as unknown to me as the India of Paul Theroux or the Patagonia of Bruce Chatwin. Not in others: I remember visiting a house, when I was a kid, with stables in the basement, and the same entrance for beasts and humans; I remember the father of the house coming home in the evening, mule in tow, and leaving her in the basement, right below the the living room where every one was spending their time around the cosy table and the brazier, and which was illuminated by a single 15-watt bulb. I remember distintcly playing with the olive-tree shaking poles in that living room, and hitting that same bulb, and being banished from said living room forever. Also, from said poles.
So, while not a masterwork of travel writing, it is a nice snapshot of living in Spain in the 60s, as seen from outside. So worth a read.

[SofíaMHT · Rating 5 out of 5]

En los siglos XVII y XIX, España y, en especial, Andalucía se convirtieron en un reclamo mágico para los curiosos adinerados del resto de Europa. Algo después, en el siglo pasado, Penelope Chetwode, una viajera “de mediana edad”, inglesa, católica y amante de los caballos que, con su limitado español, decidió recorrer Andalucía en su yegua (la otra señora de mediana edad) desde Málaga a Jaén a principios de la década de los sesenta.

Chetwode, aunque se nutre de hispanófilos, como Richard Ford o George Borrow, trata de no llevar prejuicios consigo y deja aparecer en su diario de viaje una tierra humilde, serena, resiliente y acogedora.

Las palabras de la viajera nos hacen acompañarla a esas habitaciones de luces ténues de candil, de puertas abiertas y colchones de lana; de buen pan, calor de lumbres y buena conversación.

No se detiene demasiado en las capitales, no parecen interesarle, sino que su periplo está formado en gran medida por caminos de mulos y pueblos pequeños. Para quienes enraizamos en la zona, estas páginas nos ofrecen la oportunidad de asomarnos a las vidas duras, pero auténticas, de nuestros padres y abuelos.

Además de la riqueza de sus palabras, esta aventurera fotografió su andanza. Esta edición pone a nuestra disposición ese material, enriqueciendo aún más la experiencia del viajero-lector.

Admiro muchísimo el carácter y la valentía de aquellos que, en un mundo sin telecomunicaciones avanzadas ni la seguridad de la que gozamos hoy, no desfallecieron en su interés de observar la vida. Y más, por qué no decirlo, si se trata de una mujer sola, como es el caso de Chetwode.

En conclusión, “Dos señoras de mediana edad en Andalucía” es un espectacular cuaderno de bitácora de una viajera inglesa por la Andalucía luminosa y sombría de los años sesenta; un viaje distinto para cualquiera que trate de aproximarse a un experimentar único acercándose a un mundo reciente, pero ya extinto.

[Darlene Foster · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed travelling through rural Andalusia with the author and her borrowed horse, The Marquesa, in the early 1960s. It is a delightful step into a past Spain with clever insights by Ms Chetwode.

This is what the author had to say about her brave adventure, "It is wonderful to go thus backwards in time to the life of a hundred years ago when both one's transport and one's fun depends on the horse and not the internal combustion engine." Although she chooses to travel alone, she encounters many interesting, friendly folks along the way and is often forced to rely on the kindness of strangers. "Touring on a horse seems to bring out all the best in the characters of the people you meet and you do not see them for long enough to get on one another's nerve." She describes the scenery beautifully. "This sort of landscape gives you an insight into Eternity; it is so vast and so beautiful and so still that you would like it to go on forever." She is enthralled by the vistas, the cave houses, the bucolic country churches, and the simplicity of children, but not the sanitation. "The Spanish possess a great variety of talents but plumbing is not one of them."
Getting lost in the wilderness was a regular occurrence but she did not seem to mind. " The splendid inaccuracy of the maps led me to many such places which I would otherwise have missed."

I can't imagine undertaking such a journey even now, with cell phones and GPS, let alone 60 years ago. This is a wonderful read. I have to agree with the author when she says of the Spanish countryside, "Oh, the healing silence of Spain! It is like lanolin rubbed into your soul."

[Lee Paris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first encountered Chetwode in Bruce Chatwin, the biography of the famous travel writer by Nicholas Shakespeare, where she is called by her married name Penelope Betjeman. She's a close friend of Bruce's and her stamina and zest for life makes her sudden death at the age of 78 all the more shocking for him. At the age of 51 she and her middle-aged (12 years) mare La Marquesa embark on a month-long trek through rural Andalusia. The book is a bit repetitive with each day being much the same as the previous one: a horse-ride through rugged terrain on a road less traveled, the arrival at a small town inn with only the most basic amenities, her delight in the hospitality and good nature of her hosts, comments on the quality of the local food (the bread is delicious, the barley coffee much less so) , and the obligatory rise for morning mass and a chat with the local priest and curate. Perhaps typical of her age (born in 1910) and class (she's the daughter of a field-marshall no less) she celebrates the simple life, pleasures and fervent faith of the Spanish peasantry along with some jabs aimed at the squalid, plastic modernity of 1960s Britain. As others have commented, her nod towards Generalissimo Franco as a not-so-bad Fascist is off-putting. Apart from that caution, I am sure that anyone interested in the travel genre, Spain and horses will find much to enjoy in this short book.

[Caro · Rating 3 out of 5]

In 1961, Penelope Chetwood borrowed a middle-aged horse from the Duke of Wellington and set off on a month-long ride through rural Andalusia. She stayed in simple posadas in the villages, becoming part of the warm-hearted families if only for a few days, faithfully and frequently going to Mass (she was a Catholic convert), looking forward to roads described as "camin muy malo" because they are more scenic than the metalled roads, and leading her horse, La Marquesa, up and down the sometimes harrowing heights of the high sierras. She notices but is not too daunted by the primitive toilets (just head to the stable and sit in the straw, it seems), and she enjoys the busy social life of the posadas, where people often eat from one big bowl. Yes, she admires Franco (so did Michener) and has a somewhat romantic idea of country people's lives, but otherwise she makes a pleasant companion.

[Jane E · Rating 4 out of 5]

The obsessive Catholicism of the convert was irritating but that aside this was a fascinating book with such insights into the Spain of its time. A time with no TV, little electricity, few children's toys and seldom even glass in the posada window frames. Even the author's packing list was fascinating. Two pairs of underwear (I hope that meant long johns not knickers), a skirt to be worn with stockings for formal occasions like the daily church masses and many books mostly tilted towards the Catholic religion. She admitted to not wanting to bathe which is a bit worrying after a month or so on the trail and seemed happy enough to lodge in rural posadas where the toilet arrangement consisted of squatting on the stable litter. So much has changed with modern transport and hoards of tourists - perhaps most not for the better. (Purchased at Reread in Gijon, Spain.)

[scarlettraces]

Penelope at a distance of 60 years is much more palatable company than her contemporary equivalent would be. (I'm well and truly done with imperialism, and the casual acceptance of a fascist dictator because priests like him makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit, to quote a dear friend.) Oth her wry observant tone and curiosity are, it's true, delightful.

[Brenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an excellent travel memoir, written by an Englishwoman who travelled on horseback in eastern Andalucía, Spain in the fall of 1961. Chetwode has a great sense of humor and in this book she was able to capture and clearly explain lots of interesting aspects of Andalusian culture. I highly recommend this book.

[John Ollerton · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an absolutely delightful book and what a tough character Lady Chetwode/Mrs John Betjeman is. I really enjoyed this and was full of admiration. I cant really imagine John Betjeman doing some of the things that Penelope Chetwode did. I did read somewhere that she died leading a party of travellers in Northern India. Wow.

[Keren Lilley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyable plod through the Andalusia of 1961. Fascinating detail of the pre-industrial lifestyle still surviving back then. Amusing insight into an adventurous, if somewhat fascist-leaning woman traveller of the era. Not a page-turner but good for chilling with.

[Donna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very easy read, humorous. Life in the early 60s in rural Andalucía as the slightly bonkers avd very horsey author travels around on another middle aged lady. Of course some of her views are very outdated to us now, but it's of its time

[Catie]

Recommendation in the Slightly Foxed Quarterly No. 66 Summer 2020 Issue

[Rick · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a fun, old travelogue.

[Paul Mnich · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hard to believe it was written in 1963 - the journey could have been in 1863!

[Donna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very horsey and of it's time. Bonkers posh lady travels without plans on a horse in Andalucía.
Super interesting about life in the 1960s in Southern Spain.

[Grace Foubister · Rating 3 out of 5]

A middle aged lady on a middle aged horse riding through Andulasia in the early 60's. One thing about armchair travelling, you are not restricted to any particular time. Spain at the time of writing was almost totally unspoilt. A delightfull country and delightfull people.

[Bernard S Cooper · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very unusual book which was read when I returned from living in Spain. Its about a lady and a horse with various adventures in Southern Spain. I had never read anything where anyone supports Franco before. An interesting read if you have connections with this part of Spain or are planning to start some.

[Nurul · Rating 4 out of 5]

A delightful read from start to end. I love Chetwode's light, easy prose - she made me laugh or at least smile almost throughout the book. I don't mind her religiousness, her slight English upper-class pompousness, her definitely misguided (almost-)support for Franco - these are minor compared to how likeable I find her adventurousness and delightful eccentricities. In fact the latter I can empathise with; she agrees all too easily with the Andalusian priests she spoke to, she's on their soil afterall; she was keen to listen and observe and thus agree. I enjoyed her description of the river, her getting terribly lost on bad country paths, and most of all her observation of how Andalucians lived at the time in 1961 - in what she felt were terribly primitive conditions (which she wrote with such charming humour), but with such openness in the way they socialised, in contrast to the city dwellers she's used to (what has changed in the world since then?!). She is a feminist's and an intrepid traveller's dream, I found myself wishing I could be more like her, or that I knew her in my real life.