On a cold and drizzly winter's day, newly married, and with the prospect looming of being chained to a desk and a mortgage for the next 40 years, an estate agent's advertisement caught my eye: Whitewashed cottages set amongst olive and lemon groves in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. I looked out at the grey. 'We must go and live in Andalucía, ' I said. Within two months we had flown to Spain and purchased a semi-ruined farmhouse in a peasant community a few miles inland from the Mediterranean village of Castell de Ferro. We planned to live there forever, be self-sufficient and all that we would need money for was tiresome things like petrol. After twenty months of noisy and exuberant planning in suburban Bristol we sold our home and set off for our new life. Most of our friends thought we were mad but said they would visit us once we had civilised the cortijo. My brother wrote, 'Good luck climbing the wall.' Looking back now, I am not sure whether my efforts to climb the wall arose from an overwhelming desire to find out what was on the other side or if I was simply running away. Over the Wall to Andalucía is a humorous tale of the extraordinary and wonderful adventure that enriched our lives, and underlines the need within all of us to live our dreams.