I am in the flat that my brother and his wife are living in at Conil de la Frontera, half an hour by bus from Cadiz. It's in the first row of flats facing the sea, I can look out of the window to a blue sky and a line of foam where, even in the calm, little waves are coming in from the ink-blue Atlantic. The house is all stone floors and white walls and full of light, and has a balcony on which you can eat your breakfast. Every high tide, the sea brings new cuttle-fish shells to the beach. There is a small marsh between here and the sea, in which a local farmer grazes his small family of goats.