The fried potatoes represented the second act of a three-act play, as long as you can imagine a play in which everyone talks at once and each act finishes at the same time.

We didn’t get a McDonald’s in Tasmania until 1988 – when I was 18 – and therefore I never got hooked on that horrid synthetic crap.

A lot of Jerez’s bars close on a Sunday after lunch and don’t reopen until Tuesday or even Wednesday. I made this list for our own benefit.

“Can you teach normal Spanish too?” There was a brief pause while we each processed my question. Carmen teaches Andalucían Spanish

“There are loud Spaniards and dogs barking and dog poop everywhere, I dislike having dinner at a restaurant and having to shout at my wife …

We grabbed a table, ordered a drink, and watched as a couple of dozen locals rocked up 15 minutes after kickoff, such is the Spanish relationship with punctuality. 

But Australia is such a beautiful place, she says. Why would you leave? We explained how the government is tearing apart the environment, described the loss of real industry in exchange for mining and forestry.

Eye contact among bar staff works differently in Spain. Sure, if you walk into a quiet bar and the barman is right there you’ll get a friendly buenas.

Choosing our favourite restaurant in Jerez is like nominating a favourite child, when you know full well that one day he, she or they will crash your car or tell you they want to be an influencer.

We and our friends were perched at a barrel in one of 180 casetas, drinking beer, when Derek said, this is better than watching TV. Words will never do justice to the sight of thousands of people dressed in traditional flamenco and riding attire.

It comes as a minor annoyance to some visitors when they discover that finding a flamenco performance in Jerez can be tricky.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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) …

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.