THANK YOU EVERYONE!!

One week on from the official launch, sales are up over 150% on the previous three weeks.

Facebook page Likes have increased by 150%.

And visits to my website http://www.journeytoadream.co.uk have passed 800.

As a self-published author I am very much reliant on you the reader to spread the word. If you have enjoyed my book, please take a few minutes to write a review on Amazon.

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Another glorious day is in the offing. The morning air is still, and comfortably warm, but within a few hours the summer sun will ease its way through the floating duvet of pale-grey clouds. Like an artist’s emerging canvass, a teasing hint of milky-blue quickly develops into a cloudless day.

Just enough time to take Slawit out for her morning walk before the heat defeats us both.

For those of you familiar with my hometown of Huddersfield, Slawit will be a familiar name. Everyone else is surely at a loss. Even your trusted dictionary will draw a blank. However; on this occasion, a less trusted source can shed a little light - Wikipedia.org.

Slaithwaite, locally Slawit, is a village within the
Metropolitan Borough of Kirklees, in West Yorkshire, England. 
 
Why would anyone name their dog after a sleepy
village in Yorkshire?

Unlike the royal household, the list of pet names is endless but in my experience, a dog will often choose its own. 

Take our last dog for example. We rescued her from the RSPCA where she’d been given the name Badger. Clearly in recognition of her colouring as calling the name evoked the same response I might expect from a deaf post. So our search began in earnest for a new title. 
 
We tried the usual 'y' ending names: Sally, Molly, Dolly, thankfully none of them managed to raise an eyebrow. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against pet names ending in 'y'; they’re rather cute, in a simplistic kind of way. 
 
I wanted something less familiar: Although I did breathe a sigh of relief when the mother-in-law’s suggestion of ambulance, fell on deaf ears.

Hour after hour we shouted names at the dog, hoping for any sign of familiarity.

'What about Jasmine?' suggested Melanie. 
 
No sooner had the name left her lips than the dog pricked her ears up, turned her head and sprinted towards Melanie, excitedly wagging her tail. I wasn’t quite sure whether she’d chosen the name, or had just got fed up of us badgering her.

'I'm not going out in the street and shouting Jasmine,' I announced.

So Jasmine quickly became Jazz, which she greeted with the same excited response. 

Jazz loved Spain, particularly basking in the warm sunshine: not unlike Melanie in that respect. The only
minor problem was her name: not unlike me in that respect. 

Spanish people pronounce Jazz as Hass, with the emphasis being on a very throaty-sounding aitch.

Sadly, Jazz died almost 2 years ago. She now rests in a quiet corner of the vineyard: always with us but never around. 

We decided not to have another dog, the pain was too great – we held out for almost 4 days.

Another rescue case entered our lives. Little did we know that we’d stumbled across a purebred Podenco
Galego. I use the word, ‘purebred’ with an element of caution, but the vet seemed to think so.

Choosing each other was easy enough, deciding on a name was far more difficult - Cuca just wouldn’t do. This time; however, besides looking for a response to our calls we wanted a name that was pronounced exactly the same in Spanish as it was in English.

The name Slawit certainly filled our second criteria; as for the first, we’re still working on it.

‘Slawit, come!’

***
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A detailed heartfelt account of their 'journey to a dream'.

A good page turner, the story flows well and you feel that you know Craig and Mel well by the end.

Craig describes the highs and low of 'their journey' with comfortable
language that encourages you to read on.

The Spanish laid back way takes some adjusting to, I loved the four categories of houses you designed to interpret the estate agents
speak.

Ms Jane Acklam
Principal
Moor End Academy, Huddersfield

Today, the bells toll for Pedro (Don Pedro Vázquez Rodriguez). 

The sound is hollow and empty – a dull toneless clang followed
seconds later by an equally dispirited dong. These equidistant chimes repeat, over and over again: a monotonous repetition that groans on, seemingly forever. 
 
But Pedro will never hear this sombre dissonance. 
 
Today the bells announce Pedro’s quietus – a medieval ritual
calling on others to pray for his passing soul: a death knell.  
 
Within this auditory sensation echoes a haunting reminder of our
own fragile mortality and the priceless value of life.

When we moved to Spain, 11 years ago, Pedro was one of the first people we met. His manner and attitude brought reassurance that our decision to settle in Galicia was the right one. 
 
Pedro was manager of the Banesto bank where, with the help of
our neighbour Antoniño, we opened our first Spanish bank account. Until this point, I had a very low opinion of banks and their managers but Pedro changed
all that.

He went out of his way to make us feel welcome and wanted. He took an active interest in our financial safety and ensured that our dealings with his bank went as smoothly as possible– a bit too smoothly on one particular occasion.

Not long after buying our house a neighbour called. He introduced himself as Miguel; the rest of his narrative fell on bewildered ears, with one exception: the word Banesto.

My suspicions were immediately raised. Who was this stranger from the village and why was he asking about my Banking arrangements? I appeased my inquisitor by telling him that I would call into the bank
tomorrow.

It transpired that Miguel is Pedro’s brother. Pedro had asked Miguel to ask us to call into the bank at our earliest convenience. Two weeks earlier we’d withdrawn the money to pay for the house. In Pedro’s eagerness to facilitate a smooth and speedy withdrawal, he’d failed to secure our signature on the relevant form. 

I often wonder what might have happened if we’d refused to sign.

Unbeknown to us, on another occasion Pedro had left the bank and driven out to Canabal to see for himself the progress on our house remodelling. He’d become concerned about the size and regularity of our withdrawals and wanted to make sure that we were spending our money wisely. He left the site
reassured but never mentioned his inspection visit to us.

Pedro was a man of distinction, friendly, courteous and generous. Whenever we saw him out and about he never failed to say hello and always asked after our wellbeing, and should we bump into him in a café or bar he would always buy us a drink.

Don Pedro Vázquez Rodriguez will live in my memory forever: a banker of honesty, integrity and style, characteristics his contemporaries would do well to learn. 

It was a privilege to have met him and an honour to call him my friend.

"If you have ever thought about chucking it all and heading off to fill YOUR dream the "Journey to a Dream" is a must read. You need, of course, to have a yearn to sell all your worldly possessions and move to a foreign country not knowing the language, the banking and money systems, the customs, the building codes, the housing market, etc.

What a trip!

Craig, Mel and Jazz will fill your evenings with joy. It will help bring you closer to the story line if you have a nice glass of Spanish wine nearby to sip as you turn each page. By the time you have finished the book and the wine you will feel as though You have personally shared every moment with these three Brits!

Fun, fun, fun!

Make a "dash for your cash" and join Craig, Mel and Jazz on their wonderful adventure.

Dr. Monte P. Shepler
The Consortium of Universities of
 Washington Metro Area
Washington, D.C. USA

Craig,

I hope this helps:-

This book is part travel guide, part a guide to buying a property in Spain, part family history, but above all an easy read personal story with a real insight into the trials and tribulations of chasing your dream.

Despite all the TV programmes showing all the opportunities for buying a property abroad this book shows the ups and downs, the exhilaration and despair, and maybe above all, the sheer determination needed to complete such a project.

We are told of the dangers of property viewing on the Internet, the mañana attitude of solicitors and others, and the difficulty of learning the language as you go.

However above all we are  shown that a sense of humour, an ability to eat and drink whatever is put in front of you helps to overcome the pitfalls (even when your bank account is missing 70,000 Euros because your bank has set up another account in your name without telling you).

An ability to tolerate sleep deprivation interspersed with the occasional relief of sightseeing seems essential especially if your newly built swimming pool starts rising out of the ground in front of your eyes.

I enjoyed learning of the pitfalls but also shared the relief and anguish of every step forward and quick reverse. Perseverance pays if you are chasing your dream and perhaps you need the northern spirit to see this through when faced with the problems the TV programmes don't tell you  about. Well done Craig and Melanie.

Ann Taylor

The Rt Hon. the Baroness Taylor of Bolton

In common with many other parts of Spain, Galicia sees an influx of holidaymakers during the summer months. Village populations swell and our village is no exception. 
 
Most of these seasonal visitors originate from within Spain and many are either Barcelonés, (the collective name for residents of Barcelona) or Madrileños the Madrid equivalent. These summer migrants left the area in their youth to find employment in the more prosperous cities of Spain. 

Two such summer migrants to our home village, are Mariano and his wife Isa (pronounced Eesa). They live in Madrid and every year escape the stifling heat of the city for the peace, quiet, and
freshness of village life in Galicia. 

Mariano told me his age once but at the time it didn’t seem
important and now I can’t remember. If I had to guess I’d say that he’s about 80, give or take a couple of years. He’s a retired banker from an era when banking was a respected profession and an occupation to be proud of. 
 
When we first moved into our new home, Mariano was the first man from the village to really speak to me. I’m not saying that everyone else wasn’t courteous and polite; on the contrary, we were welcomed from the start. However; many villagers were reticent to attempt meaningful interaction with me, the strange and unusual Englishman. I suppose being suspicious and cautious is human nature. 

Mariano on the other hand lived in Madrid, a thriving metropolis and cultural melting pot. For him, I was a person of interest: a man to be questioned.

His examination began lightly enough, ‘What are you planting there,’ he asked, pointing at a dry patch of ground I was busy preparing.

This modest question immediately raised my suspicion. I’d become accustomed to statements from the neighbours rather than questions. 
‘That’s very good soil for growing vegetables,’ would have seemed a far more familiar remark.

‘I’m going to plant a lawn,’ I replied, fully expecting a brusque rebuttal along the lines of, ‘Only sheep eat
grass.’

But to my astonishment Mariano responded with another, more investigative enquiry.

‘Why are you raking sand into the ground?’

I explained, ‘It will help with drainage and make the ground harder wearing.’   
 
‘Like a football pitch,’ he replied.

I suspect he knew the answer all along but was keen to test the knowledge of his new English neighbour. Once I’d established my intellectual credentials we went on to discuss more worldly issues. 
 
Ten years on I still look forward to their arrival; and although his health is not what it was, I like nothing more than sitting in the shade, discussing matters of global significance with my friend the Madrileño. 

Amazon.co.uk are back in stock

Due to overwhelming demand Amazon.co.uk have been out of stock since 22 May but are now fully stocked and are considering taking on extra staff to deal with the backlog of orders.

Just to clear up any misunderstanding, when I say overwhelming demand that's another way of saying technical problems; and unfortunately my title is not included in the backlog - so why not treat yourself to a copy?