Customer Reviews

Driving Over Lemons: An Optimist in Andalucia

5 star:		(22)
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2 star:		(9)
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This book has been huge in the UK - top ten for the past six months - and no wonder. It is such a great tale: Chris Stewart, one time drummer of Genesis (he left at age 17) sinks his all (the grand sum of $35,000) into a peasant farm in Andalucia. It has no runing water, no electricity, and gets cut off altogether when the river is in flood. Oh, and it turns out that the man who sells him the farm has no plans to move out himself. But as the subtitle says, Chris is an optimist, big time, and that carries him through, along with a little realism from his wife Ana, and local wiles from Domingo, the best neighbor you could hope to find. The book gains its strength from the fact that Stewart has no money and needs to work (as a sheep shearer), bringing real and often very comic insights into the local life - something I found lacking in the Mayle/Mayes Provence/Tuscany bestsellers. But like those books, this is a perfect holiday read - and a book that makes you yearn to follow the Stewarts' lead, and head for a simpler life in the sun.

Those expecting a description of Spain akin to Mayles of Provence or Mayes of Tuscany will be momentarily disappointed. However, one quickly becomes invested in finishing this warm, engaging memoir.

There are no descriptions of fine wines, imcomparable meals, or other such rich treats. Instead this is a tale of an English couple that eschews the bourgeois lifestyle and seeks a simpler lifestyle in rural Spain. The leitmotif for the book could be summed up as carpe diem. The result is a touching description of evolving understanding of a different culture, appreciation and respect for the challenges of an agrarian lifestyle, and the importance of human relationships.

Throughout one is struck by what a kind hearted, genuinely good, and often frustratingly credulous person Chris Stewart is. He has an endearing capacity for laughing at himself and chalking up losses and set backs as part of the cost of change. Much of the book's humor is derived from the characteristically deadpan British understatement and irony, and the assortment of interesting and eccentric characters to whom the Stewarts are drawn and also attract.

Stewart's growing relationship with his laconic, multitalented neighbor Domingo is particularly heart warming. One is struck by the neighor's acumen, unceasing generosity, and ongoing willingness to aid the often fumbling Stewart. There is a particularly moving chapter about "understanding the water" where Stewart reveals his immense gratitude and respect to Domingo by expressing the hope to earn his respect someday.

This is a lovely, uplifting, fun book depicting the growth of a family and the development of a new, and perhaps more essential, lifestyle. I felt better for having read it.

There are some great books out there about making a new life in France or Italy, but this is the the first I have read which makes a move to Spain seem so real. Chris Stewart leaves all that he is used to and transforms himself and his family in the process. It is very well written and an excellent account of adjusting to life in rural Spain and also the transformation of a young couple to a family with the birth of their little girl and all the changes that can bring. I greatly enjoyed both facets of this book.

If you have been a fan of Peter Mayle who seems to be the senior statesman of "honey let's quit our jobs and buy a place in a foreign land" genre of literature, then you should also like this book. Although not as humorous or wry as the "Provence" series, the author does well by inviting you into his life with a degree of candor and unassuming charm that is much more refreshing than the somewhat tiresome cadence of self absorbed authors such as Francis Mayes ("Under the Tuscan Sun"). Unlike Mayes or Mayle, the author actually attempts to assimilate himself to a greater degree by taking over the farm to become a farmer, as opposed to an author, as so many other books of this type demonstrate. From this perspective, it becomes a refreshing change of pace and perspective for the reader.

This book is good, easy to read and enjoy, but will not go down as a classic. Never the less, if you want a fun and easy to take dose of living in a foreign land, this one is for you. The ending page is also special.

"Okay, you've got a read this book," a friend said, plopping this paperback on my lap. "It's about a dopey Brit, who JUST like you, bought a house in Spain."

'Help Me!' I whispered to my wife. Two years ago, we, too, purchased a home in southern Spain. While some U.S. friends cheered our foresight (lining up for future visits), most thought we were completely nuts (Guilty).

A couple days later, I read Stewart's book and found it worth a sharing. Unlike 'Tuscan Sun' fare, I found Stewart's book on Spain a funny, realistic, and unvarnished account of expats, finding a house in Spain, fixing it up and then trying to make a 'go' of it.

I immediately recognized the take-no-prisoners real estate agents in Spain, offering you a remote but charming finca (we wisely chose a city rowhouse, instead), as well as the Spanish locals who think they've hit the national lottery, courtesy of you and checkbook.

Spain is a quirky place. But trust me, it can grow on you. Stewart's book matches the quality and perspective of a similar book, called "On Mexican Time." "Driving Over Lemons" offers a Andalusian prism to what life can be like in many of the small towns and rural villages in southern Spain. I chuckled and nodded at the familiar struggles, learning the language, winning the trust of your neighbors, integrating yourself into everyday life in Spain. It also shares, in a winning way, the value of deep friendships, family, and a quality of life in Spain.

Bravo Chris Stewart.

Chris Stewart is a surprisingly good writer. He is also an engaging character, able to cope with the crisis of moving countries and careers with grace under pressure.

This book is the diary of Stewart and his wife buying and running a small farm in Andalucia. They live in a rustuic farmhouse, get to know their neighbours, live through various natural and unnatural disasters and the birth of thier daughter.

This is a unique view of Spain from an outsider but not a tourist, and an interesting meditation on consumerism, community, and lifestyle, all writter with humour and style. While not hiding the hardships, Stewart makes one want to abandon the city and strike out as a sheppard in a foreign country.

While firmly in the school of "A year in Provence" and other fish-out-of-water travelogues, Chris Stewart's "Driving over Lemons" brings something new to the table. As sheep shearer attempting to set up a working farm in Andalucia, Stewart runs into problems and meets people that a mere ex-pat would not. His apparent success in becoming a part of the community in which he lives has exposed him, and by extension us, to a side of Spanish life (including breakfasts of chicken heads) closed to most visitors.

If you've enjoyed Peter Mayle's series on Provence initiated when he and his wife bought and refurbished a dilapidated French farmhouse, or EXTRA VIRGIN by Annie Hawes, then you'll be positively enamored of DRIVING OVER LEMONS, written by Chris Stewart, another Brit wishing to escape the island. Perhaps it's the weather.

Chris, a sheep-shearer and sometime travel writer, begins his narrative as he's traveling alone in Spain's Andalusia. Right off, he spends his life's savings on a somewhat isolated, but definitely rustic, farm called El Valero without first calling England to consult with his wife, Ana. (Now, this strikes me as a markedly hazardous course, and brings to mind the prudent caution, "Don't try this at home".) In any case, he adroitly manages to sell the concept to a dubious spouse, and soon the Stewarts and the family dog cut all ties to Sussex and immigrate to their new rural residence.

One major difference between author Stewart and author Mayle is that the former doesn't dwell hedonistically on the food and wine of his adopted country. (One brief reference to a local delicacy favored by Macho Locals, burnt chicken's heads, may indicate the grounds for such an omission.) Rather, DRIVING OVER LEMONS is all about rebuilding El Valero into something more civilized, installing running water via an ancient aqueduct, constructing a bridge over a river that flows through the property, acquiring and maintaining a herd of sheep, begetting a daughter, Chloe, and interacting with the natives and other members of the Foreign Community. However, one characteristic that Chris does share with Mayle (and Hawes) is a wonderfully dry and entertaining wit that seems to be a genetic trait of British expatriate writers. For example, when describing the belated christening ceremony of 3 year-old Chloe:

"Chloe looked as if she was about to cut up rough but Ana managed to bribe her into a hesitant co-operation by flashing the edge of a bar of chocolate, kept at the ready in her pocket, and pointing meaningfully towards the altar. Chloe edged forward throwing side glances at the chocolate in the way that sailors keep a lighthouse in view when crossing onshore tides. (After the ceremony) Ana and I breathed a sigh of relief as she slunk back to (her best friend) Rosa clutching her chocolate. I like to think they shared it. It's no good going through the form of the thing, you have to act by its precepts."

I enjoyed this volume immensely, and hope that Stewart, like Mayle, will make a literary series of it. Andalusia is a place I will likely never visit, and Chris is a convivial and likable guide.

Chris Stewart's book makes Peter Mayle's Provence efforts seem like puff fiction. Stewart's is about real poeple, while Mayle's seems to be written on the basis of market research (he's a PR man, after all).

Stewart is a sheep shearer, and he's raising sheep on his finca. He interacts with his neighbors as a sheep farmer, and he tries to break into the business by passing the middle men. He learns his lessons and adapts, but it takes a lot of work and time.

It's not a book for those who prefer the romantic tales about living simply in a rural Mediteranen environment. But it's a real story, told well and without pretense. Therefore it stays with you long after the other fluff has blown away.

Chris Stewart has led a life many of us only dream of. As a teenager attending one of the most prestigious boarding schools in England, he played drums in the very first incarnation of the English rock band Genesis (Phil Collins was the fourth drummer). One imagines Peter Gabriel being attracted to Stewart's optimism more than his drumming ability. Unlike drummer Pete Best of the Beatles, however, Stewart quit the band rather than waiting to get fired. He went on to become a sailor, sheep shearer, travel writer, marry an attractive (and understanding) woman, and father a beautiful girl. And now pen a bestselling book on rural life in southern Spain.

I was cautious upon purchasing this book, as I couldn't imagine yet another member of Genesis achieving artistic and commercial success. But there must have been some fairy dust sprinkled over those schoolboys from Charterhouse School long ago, because "Driving Over Lemons" is a thoroughly well written and enjoyable narrative. It deals with Stewart's pie-eyed zest for simple, earthy living, and his follies and foibles trying to make a go of farming in a foreign country. Stewart succeeds with this book because we can relate to his naivety, and the humor in his narrative is natural and understated. He writes with ease and affection about his Spanish neighbors, fellow expatriates, cats Brenda and Elfine, building bridges, and channeling irrigation ditches.

If you can't chuck it all for the agrarian life in rural Spain, like Chris, at least pick a sunny day, find a cozy hammock, and read his book. It's as close as most of us will ever get to being there.