Renovating an old townhouse in Pampaneira has been a journey (and still is) filled with lessons, frustrations, and small triumphs. When I first walked through the property, its age showed in the uneven stone floors and faded wooden beams, but so did its charm. I saw potential in every creaky door and crack in the plaster. It felt like a metaphor for my life—in need of work, but still full of promise.
The first weeks of renovation were daunting. My Spanish was limited, and my knowledge of Andalusian architecture even more so. Thankfully, I met Diego, a local craftsman who’d been working on houses like mine for decades. Diego is a man of few words, but his hands tell a lot of stories! As he repaired the beams in my living room, he explained their history—how the wood was sourced from chestnut trees in the nearby hills, and how the design had barely changed in centuries. Fascinating stuff.
Then there was Elena, who runs the small hardware shop in the village. She’s always ready with advice and a laugh, especially when I’ve misunderstood the purpose of a particular tool. “No, Robert,” she said one afternoon, holding up a trowel. “This is for smoothing plaster, not digging holes.”
What started as a daunting task became a collaborative effort. Neighbours dropped by with suggestions or just to see the progress. One evening, Rosa, a friend I’d met at the market, brought over a homemade stew to share as I worked late into the night. It’s moments like these that remind me why I chose Pampaneira. This isn’t just about restoring a house; it’s about building a life.