About halfway through our family trip to Andalusia, the United States restricted air travel from Europe and Spain declared a state of emergency. The geopolitical and pandemic crosscurrents at play were difficult to read, even from the rooftop terrace of our house in Guájar Faraguit, a quiet village in the hill country above the Strait of Gibraltar. We tried to sniff the breeze for guidance, but all we could smell were lemon blossoms.
I sipped red wine into mouthfuls of manchego and jamón. My wife took her manchego with vegetables, while the kids munched avocado toast and drank home-squeezed orange juice. We were surrounded by clean water, carefully-tended groves of olive, citrus, almond, and avocado, and not much else.
