Life Update: Saying Goodbye to Spain, Working on Personal Growth and Our New Home!

Updated: May 21, 2019



Hola, chicos! Or should I say, Gomarjoba?


We've been abroad for one full year as of May 8 - some days it feels like it's been a decade and some days it feels like only weeks ago we traded our new cars for more passport stamps. The past year in Spain has been a dream come true, I have learned and grown in ways I never would have otherwise and have gotten to know my husband in a unique way that still has me pinching myself!

The past two weeks since I've shown my face around here, have been a complete blur in all ways imaginable. It feels like I've spent the past twelve days on one of those sketchy Gravitron rides at a carnival that should've shut down six lawsuits ago. Lots of moments filled with nerves and a longing for Spain along with the natural stress that comes with, ya know, packing your bags and moving to a new country. But with that pesky angst comes the curiosity and the excitement that always seems to take over when we move on to a new place. A thrill that will always smack the fear where it hurts and will always encourage us to simply, keep on keepin' on.

As you can see, all the craziness has been in the name of a new adventure in a new country. Her name is Georgia, and she's cozied up in the sweet spot where Eastern Europe meets Western Asia. So, let's backtrack a little bit.


Driving to our new home in Barcelona from Lisbon, Portugal last year!

One Year in Spain

If you haven't, you should totally check out my other recaps on Spain to get up to speed!

I used to think that my ideas of Spain were romanced and sort of knew, in the back of my head, that I would have to come back down to Earth at some point once we moved there. But the crazy news is, it actually is that great. Every place that we lived, despite any difficulty (and there were plenty), I really do remember like a movie. Places like Barcelona and Granada are especially remembered as the magical days spent wandering on cobblestoned streets over the same footsteps that centuries of history have taken place on. Strolls through El Born, where we lived in Barcelona, feeling so damn lucky looking at all the tourists eager to taste even just a pinch of Catalonia. Evenings with a vino tinto de casa, outside on a terrace with a guitar coming from somewhere, surrounded by laughter with Ollie under the table and a sky still beaming golden over El Born at 9 pm in July. Or Sunday picnics in the park or at the Barceloneta beach always followed by a nap in the sun. Or Granadian nights with nonstop tapas and intimate flamenco in Le Chein Andalou tucked away on Carrera del Darro. Or the best, biggest, knee-slapping laughs at Cafe La Familia discussing Game of Thrones every Monday.