Living in the countryside (el campo), east of Málaga, means that many of the things we might have taken for granted, living back in England, are done a little differently here.

Take the postal system, for example.  Our mail isn´t delivered to our home by the postman, so we have to jump in the car and take a trip up to the village to collect any mail from our post office box at the Post Office.

Being an enthusiastic driver, I enjoy the challenge of negotiating the picturesque, curvy mountain roads.  The beauty and tranquility of the local landscape is enough to lift the spirits, even on the greyest of days, especially when you come face to face with a herd of ninety goats meandering along the road.  I love meeting the goats and always wind down my car window to say “hola” and pass the time of day with the goatherd, as well as telling the goats what good girls they are!

It´s amazing how even though some of the goats climb up the rocks above the road to nibble at whatever plants take their fancy, and some stray perilously close to the edge, they all stay pretty much together.   I dread to think how many would be left in the herd if I was in charge of them!

Just before the road drops down into my local village, I often stop at the Gaudi-esque mirador to marvel at the sight of the white village tumbling down the hillside overshadowed by the majestic backdrop of Monte Maroma.

This also gives me chance to drop off our rubbish bags and empty bottles at the rubbish and recycling centre (basura y reciclaje) next door, before making my way into the village.

Once I´ve parked the car, it´s a quick and easy job to walk to the Post Office (correos) and unlock our individual post box (apartado de correos) to see if there´s anything to collect.  After exchanging a few pleasantries with the Postmistress, I might wander around a few of the streets photographing the pretty balconies and their flowers, or have a cool drink at one of the many bars or cafés in the village.

Every Saturday morning there is a street-market on the main car park of Cómpeta village, making it convenient to pick up fresh fruit and vegetables, before heading home along the mountain road once more, having spent a most enjoyable couple of hours.

It certainly beats having the post popping through the letter-box or queuing outside an English Post Office on a cold, damp December morning!

Which everyday job do you enjoy doing?   Do you sometimes go out of your way to make it last longer?

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