The Netflix show Chef’s Table featured this guy called Ángel León, a crazy genius who lives on a bog. Well, more of a marine wetland, where he grows, harvests and cooks a whole bunch of stuff that’s presumably covered in flamingo shit.

Each of our home countries is different and so are the various consulates through which we’re required to apply. In most case, however, the three forms we all need are the same.

I love the Jerez train station because you can buy a beer and drink it right there on the platform. No last-minute dash through the crowd or arriving early only to stand in the blazing heat watching the clock.

Just like that princess from the fairytales who could pee through a hundred mattresses, I’m a rather sensitive soul.

For us it was the best demonstration yet of not only the superbivity of Spanish seafood range, but also just how different each of the fish tastes. It’s wild. Uniquely and unapologetically un-Japanese. Proudly Andalucían.

This is the entryway to our new house, which we have the keys to, legally, and we can come and go from any time we like, as long as we remember to bring the keys.

Our favourite bars were full, tourists loaded to the gunwales with shopping bags got in the way wherever we went, and every inch of the beach was covered in bodies of varying shades of pale and circumference.

Sure, it’s like listening to a Tasmanian devil that’s just been stung by something (if you’re not from Tasmania, think of a werewolf that’s just been bitten by a Tasmanian devil) but it was a first-rate spectacle.

TV presenter and comedy writer Phil Rosenthal has joined the long list of film makers who over the years have caused culinary chaos in some of San Sebastián’s finest bars.

In the last few months I’ve noticed a seismic shift. Having attracted thousands of followers, the admins of some Facebook groups have imposed a pseudo monetising gateway on the content.

In Australia virtually no one speaks Spanish. It’s not something we learn at school, even if we want to. To make it more difficult on us, our decision to move to Spain was sudden – we landed here a mere six months after we realised that the NLV was a thing.

Carrying a screaming cat in a small bag through the streets of Jerez in 39-degree heat (that’s 102 ºF for you Yanks) is a hoot. Not. Ted is a rather hefty 6.5 kg (that’s 14 lbs for you Yanks), which doesn’t sound much until you contemplate that he had adopted liquid form.

If there’s one minor gripe I hear from visitors to Spain it’s that they’ve gotten ‘meated out’, as the majority of offerings on any given menu tend to be on the living-and-breathing side, at least until recently.

This is a photo of the living area in our new place as it was advertised. It’s the Spanish fashion not to waste anything as valuable as floor space or wall space, or even the internal volumetric space, such is their love of head-high chandeliers.

Just. Wow … is probably the best way to describe the annual Feria de Jerez. An area the size of 10,000 table-tennis tables (I’m not sure how big that is in football fields) …

Every region has its own food vocabulary (language, even) and it’s not difficult to look like a complete tit when you try to order food at any but the most touristy of bars. Here’s how it works in Jerez.

There’s not much that’s as stressful as trying to make an electronic bank transfer of €15,000 on your phone while beside and opposite you in a tiny boardroom five Spaniards are having a yelling match (i.e. a normal conversation) in both ears at once.

We’re walking down Long Street in the centre of Jerez on our way to inspect a house for sale and we notice a young woman struggling to get a bike through the doorway to an apartment complex.

Jerez has its own colour palette. Someone tried to paint it once. Ran out of yellow. In San Sebastian, Jess tinkered with watercolours and came up with some amazing stuff but this place is something else.

Yesterday I was at home threatening the cat and Jess asked me if we were out of butifarra. I said that I don't think so, but if you get caught short there are some tissues in the cupboard.