Since we moved to our rural home on Mallorca, we’ve seen quite a few changes in terms of the people who live or visit the valley on a regular basis. We often reflect on times or conversations with those who have touched our lives here, but no longer do so.

The Naked Gardener

Wolf was one of the first to leave the valley during our time here. A friendly German opera singer (and singing teacher), he used to attend to the garden of his rented finca in the nude – good reason to keep well away from using  hedge-clippers! We dubbed him The Naked Gardener. A few years ago his landlady decided to sell the property, so Wolf and his elderly dog had to find a new home. Last seen, he was renting a place on the coast – but without a garden.

The naked truth

Margarita was the wife of Pedro, an elderly farmer with a rustic home in the valley and their main home in nearby Manacor. Margarita had inherited various small plots of land dotted around the valley and the couple used to move their flock of sheep around to take advantage of the several (and fairly scrubby) grazing options. We used to love the sound of the sheep bells clunking as the flock scuttled along the lane to their next meal.

In their happier and healthier days …

Pedro drove his tractor and Margarita perched behind him. In winter the slender lady seemingly wore every item of clothing she possessed to keep warm. They would occasionally stop at our gates for a chat, which always began in castellano but would, somewhere along the way, lapse into barely comprehensible mallorquín.

My favourite Margarita moment happened one day during one of these encounters. “You’re becoming more like a Mallorcan every day,” she said to me in Spanish, smiling. For a moment or two I thought she was complimenting me on my improving language skills but, oh no, she was referring to my increase in weight – and said it in a way that sounded like approval! Sadly, Margarita developed dementia and passed away last year, and Pedro is a rare sight these days.

Treats for Francisco’s donkeys

More recently we have missed some entertaining conversations at our gates with Francisco. Born nearby, he now lives in the north of the island with his partner, but kept his local connections by doing gardening and similar work for the owners of holiday homes in the valley. Francisco has been ill and unable to work for some months and we’ve missed his wicked sense of humour.

“I know this woman has carrots ….”

An animal lover, Francisco still owns donkeys in the valley and, in his absence, a German neighbour is feeding them. If we go for a walk down that way we take some carrots for the donkeys as an extra treat. No doubt these beautiful creatures are also missing Francisco too …