Before settling in the south, I made an artistic journey, and visited my friend Victoria Bermejo in Barcelona, a writer since dawn, very early, every day in her penthouse in Plaza Tetuan. I was surrounded by artists and illusion but I was missing a name.
Before La Cultivada existed, there was in fact another brand: Cortijo Arbequel.
He didn’t have the patience to take it far, but he did have the patience to plant trees, just like the protagonist in the story by Jean Giono.
And although he may not have seemed like one to the outside world, my father was an artist too.
I had just come back to Spain after living in Brazil, and was reflecting on my new career path.
Following several years surrounded by exotic nature and artistic exuberance, I was now seeing my homeland as leathery bull’s hide…
I wanted to write, but I also needed to earn a living… and I couldn’t figure out how to balance creativity with paying the bills.
I was at La Fábrica, half-asleep, half-dreaming… when a bird appeared. An owl, to be exact. And since I’m nothing if not original (by birthright), I named it Noctua —because why not throw in some Latin (our language’s mother, after all)? Also, because I actually studied Latin back in school (which, as you can tell, means I’m definitely not Gen Z). So Noctua it was—meaning night, the nocturnal bird. Then it turned into Nochuza, until it finally stuck as Lechuza—which, let’s be honest, sounds more like a dairy-free drink…
La Cultivada was born from a dream. And I don’t mean symbolically, but literally. One night, while I was sleeping at La Fábrica, the window of secrets opened and there was a bird…
La Fábrica is a beautiful spot in Moratilla de los Meleros, Guadalajara, Spain It used to be a Spanish factory where they made soaps from olive oil.
There’s something magical about beginnings, isn’t there? A mix of excitement, anticipation, and the desire to start a new story. Today, I myself am going back to where it all began to share something special with you: the story of La Cultivada. You see, my “close friends” say that I can talk the hind leg off a donkey, indeed I’ll talk to anything standing… and even underwater. I use quotation marks because with friends like this, who needs enemies… oh well.
A long time ago, when the world was still forming and animals were still talking, a little owl was born and named Noctua. That was me, a tiny bird whose eyes were so big and clear that they saw where others only found night.
