Disturbed by noisy dogs barking again in the night and also being very hot despite having all the windows open! Clear blue sky again when we wake, sun rising over the mountains at 08.43. We drink coffee and breakfast on the terrace and are serenaded again by our middle-aged opera singer with the grey man-bun. He still cannot reach the high notes and stay in tune!

It is already almost too hot to sit out on the east-facing balcony but it is so pleasant and relaxing over-looking the village, listening to the tinkling of the goat bells and having a 270° view of the mountains with their deep gorges and high craggy mountain tops. We do the laundry and spread it on the dryer on the terrace, within the hour even the towels are dry. Mr C. irons the shirts!

When we have lunch of Iberian ham and fruit, we find that there is no water! Mr C. contacts Mar (the owner) who finds out that the whole of the village of Conchar has no water because the pump has broken down, they have no idea when it will be repaired.

In the afternoon, Julian and Geneva drive to the coast south of Motril to find a pebbly beach to paddle. We walk up to the Mirador de Conchar just above our villa and take photographs of the villa (from the road above) and overlooking the Conchar valley, it is spectacular. We study the footpath from here, a circular route through Conchar and up into the mountains via Durcal (next village) to the caves and waterfalls, a circular of about 8 miles. We decide it is too far for us to walk in the heat of the sun (about 30°C) and, while we would like to do it, we would need to be away from the villa about 7.30am just as it gets light, to complete it before midday.

Instead, we walk down the steep hill into the village and call at the restaurant at the bottom of the hill (Bar La Huertecilla). They speak no English at all but Mr C. finds out that the water is back on in the village and we can arrive any time after 7.30pm to eat. They ask us where we are staying and they are unsure quite where we mean. When we say about the man who sings and practises his scales, they laugh a lot and say they know exactly where we are! We say we will see them later to eat.

We cross the river in the valley bottom where there is a natural spring of water and take the Low Street (Calle Baja) wandering through the typical narrow and winding streets, full of dark blue pots filled with geranium and wild jasmine. The local women sat in the shade outside the church, stop talking as we pass and view us with disdainful interest! Not unpleasant but that look of ah… more tourists! Back via the High Street (Calle Alta) with a small square plaza in the centre with chairs in the shade outside a cafe (except it is closed). As we cross back over the river I notice water carried in troughs from (probably) the source of the spring, bringing the water to a low area by the river. When we look, there are a row of five stone sinks each taking water from this channel and clearly for washing clothes, each having a sloping wash board forming the fourth side of the sink against which a person would lean and rub dirty clothes vigorously.

We spend time here under the trees, thinking back a century to a time when there was no electricity or pumped water in the houses, so the women would meet here to do their laundry, talk and catch up on the local comings and goings and what their men were up to. Under the trees it is cool and shady with water overflowing down into the river. It is like a different century, when life was simple, but probably quite hard. Everything that you need is here, in this isolated shady village in the mountains: olives, pomegranate, fig, citrus and almond trees, goats and chickens running freely in large penned area and, possibly, some milk cows (although not today).

We return to the villa, Julian and Geneva are back telling us that the Mediterranean was cold, too cold to swim or wade into. We are surprised as it is late September and well away from the inlet at the Straits of Gibraltar and inside the enclosure of the Mediterranean, so would expect it to be tepid at this time of year, at least in the shallow parts.

Later we return to Bar La Huertecilla, it is run by the family and sons (who are charming) wait on the table and practise their English… we practice our Spanish. The food is simple and very good, and about half the price of the food at Alhambra (€76 for 4 of us, two courses, including wine – instead of about €140), they serve us aniseed Retsina and a non-alcoholic equivalent so typical of the Spanish family-run cafes and restaurants. A memorable evening.

We walk back up the hill in the dark and sit on the terrace (there is still no water in the villa at all… good job we have some in the camper). The sky is black and stars brilliant. We are under the milky way but only see a faint shadow of it. Still no water when we go to bed.