The author, a sheep shearer and the original drummer for Genesis, left performing and 20th century civilization (for the most part) to settle in the isolated, backward area of southeastern Spain called Andalucia. He and his wife Ana bought a ramshackle farmhouse in the mountains without electricity, running water, or even an access to roads. Stewart's memoir of making the farm work and getting along with his eccentric neighbors is affable, self-deprecating, and terrifically charming. It's sort of a working-class version of Peter Mayle's books, where instead of haute cuisine you have peasant stew, and rather than dogs and town goat races you have scorpions, lambing, and climbing rocky slopes. The locals are both warmer and more superstitious than those in Provence. This is a lovely book.
This report prepared by David Loftus