8 Month Mark

Today is a really really good day. I have finally been able to register for my health card. The process has been legit insane with crazy amounts of jumping through hoops and, shudder with me everyone, many trips to the Padron. It has been 8 months since I left the USA and landed in Spain. A surprisingly long and simultaneously short time. Stretching out the time between medications so that I can get by just enough, family bringing meds when they come to visit, and the hardships of flare ups definitely made it feel long. However, being that we only recently settled into a long term rental, it feels like we have been on the go and unable to let it all sink in, making it go by in a flash. But now with some of the biggest accomplishments under my belt, I got to thinking, we have been acclimating to our new lives. We have new normals that we take in stride, and as I sit on my rooftop terrace today feeling like I might finally be able to answer your repeated question "what is it like to live in Spain?!?". 

Well, it is the little things that make it different. For example coffee in Spain is incredibly bitter, and they like it that way. A special roasting method called terrefacto is responsible and believe me, it takes some getting used to. It also takes learning the hard way how to hunt down the right beans in order to make coffee you like at home. This is one of the many reasons why you will see me order a glass of wine at the cafe instead of a coffee.

Speaking of wine, yes the wine is cheap and good! It is something I already knew from countless previous trips over to Europe, but something I really appreciate now being on a tight budget living here. But it isn't just the bottles in the store that are only a couple euro, it is also the by-the-glass setup they have in Spain that means house wine is always very good, local and cheap. This means you CAN afford to go to the cafe for a glass of wine and soak in the Mediterranean sun on a regular basis.

Another thing we should be adopting in the USA other than great house wines on every menu, is siesta. I really didn't think this one was going to be my cup of tea, but holy hell how have I lived most of my adult life without it? In the USA if you are taking a nap you must be ill or pregnant. In Spain, you MUST take a rest midday. Sleep? Maybe. Rest? Definitely. And why not?!? Everything in Spain closes from 2pm-5pm so what else are you going to do? If it is summer, then it is the peak of the heat and you need to get out of the sun. If it is winter then you need to curl up under a cozy blanket to warm up. And according to Spain, it is important for mental health and quality of life. Hell yes people!

Cold?!? Spain is cold you are asking? That is one that people are super surprised at, yes it gets cold in Spain! I selected a seaside town because of the moderate temps, not too hot in summer and not too cold in winter. What that translates to in Spain is your flip-flops won't melt if you leave them outside in August (like they did for a friend living is southern Spain) and it is not insane trying to heat your home in the winter (like my friend living in Madrid). What that looks like is winter coats in January... possibly over your bikini. I kid you not, we had a week of glorious beach days stuck in the middle of a cold snap that dusted nearby Barcelona with snow. 

What's the food like? Spain has a relationship with tomatoes that I didn't know was possible. First let me say I have been shocked at the intense flavor of fruit in Spain since we landed. Being a supertaster I talk about smells and flavors more than the average person, maybe obnoxiously so, but I really am intrigued and in Spain, it takes me several minutes to stop talking about the flavor rush of eating an apple. So now let's take the wildly wonderful flavor intensity of fruit in Spain and look through that lens at tomatoes. Every store has a large tomato section. The little corner market next to us has 15 different varieties always in stock, they are probably out of bread, but they'd be stoned to death if they didn't have all of the varieties of tomato at your disposal. There are the kind you slice and put on a sandwich or the like, the kind that you cook with to make a sauce, the kind you use in a salad, the kind you use to make gazpacho, and the kind that you use to scrape across bread for pan con tomate (the staple dish of Spain all regions seem to agree on). And that is just the ones I have learned about. I seriously wonder if I will ever truly learn the complexities of how, when, and why you use all the other of types of tomatoes.

Food is definitely a trip here. I had the idea that it was tapas only... everywhere. And when you aren't eating tapas, you must be eating paella. But tapas are actually not king here and paella is actually kinda hard to get. Tapas are more of a thing in the north, they do it elsewhere because you, the tourist, is in love with it. They range quite a bit, but are generally seafood oriented if you are anywhere near the water... and you are almost always near water in Spain. Tapas bar hoping is a thing, but takes a second to master. Generally you do this standing up, being assertive and yelling at a bartender you serves the tapas (laid out under glass on the bar) and your drink. Ask questions or pause and you can forget it, you should probably leave and go to the next place. In our quaint little town there is a Tapas a Tapas 10 day festival that is a bit different. This festival is meant to let you try the different restaurants' signature dish with a glass of wine for only a few euro. This is to entice you to come back for a full meal sometime. You get to sit down and the whole thing is a bit more relaxed. Tapas are very region oriented, what you will be eating and how it is done so my best advice is to stand aside and watch the locals for a few moments before you dive in. As for paella... geez, I had no idea it was such a 'thing'. Turns out it was originally invented as the Sunday meal men made for their wives and is a bit of what-is-there-left-in-the-fridge-from-the-week kind of dish. It is also very regional as to what is in it, seafood if on the coast, meat if inland. But here is the real deal, it is made to order so they insist that at least two people at your table order it, it takes forever to cook (so settle in), and you totally look like a tourist if you have it for dinner. A warning to anyone brave enough to engage a local about paella in Spain; Valencia is home of the dish and they don't think anyone else makes it correctly or should even be allowed to try. 

Speaking of trying and weather or not you should, is the language of the region. If you are like me, then you thought in Spain they speak spanish done and done. One, if you learned South American Spanish you don't really know how to speak Spain Spanish. Two, there are 17 different autonomous regions in Spain with cultural identities, traditions, and you got it, languages. I am in Catalonia taking Spanish classes, but realized early on that I need to learn Catalan, a very difficult language. It is hard to not feel overwhelmed and depressed with this information especially when you find yourself in a shop and the owner only speaks Catalan so you both try to communicate in Spanish that neither of you know very well.

A fun surprise has been attaching to a futbol team already. Just the other day we got preferred seating at the Sports Bar because the waitress recognized us from previous game days. That was super cool being escored out of the tourist zone to the locals area. We really get into the game too with the other Sitgetans, singing the chant (oh yes, you guessed it, in catalan) with each goal, and of course wearing a Barca jersey even though I don't like Barcelona the city. Clarification on this one: Barcelona is a province in the Catalonian region and the capital is Barcelona city. This means my little town is located in the Barcelona province in the Catalonian region of Spain and it happens to be near Barcelona city. Therefore our region's futbol team is Barca. 

Another thing I am loving is what they call 'sobremesa' and it is the time after the meal dedicated to sipping another glass of wine and talking to the people at the table. It is actually considered very rude to order the check having just finishing eating. They think you are unhappy with the meal. Seriously, they will ask what is wrong and not just in the passing way a waitress in the states might say "everything alright?", but with true concern, why are you leaving so quickly? Did we do something wrong? Even if you licked that plate clean, they are worried that they did something that would make you want the check immediately. You need, to at the very least let them clear the dishes, sit back and digest for a while. No they are not in a rush to reseat your table, this is YOUR table and it is mandatory to take time to enjoy the experience you just had. And they expect you to. Don't want dessert, a coffee, or another glass of wine? Then why are you even alive? Just go jump off a cliff! I have quickly grown to love this concept deeply.

So what IS it like living in Spain... is it exotic and exciting? No, not really. I do all the same things I used to do. Today is like every other day living in Spain or the USA. I do the normal things like make coffee, do some laundry, go get groceries, and get a few hours of work in. The difference is that I drink my coffee looking out over cobblestone streets and ancient red titled roofs. I hang the laundry to dry on the rooftop terrace, walk a block or two to the market to buy three different types of tomatoes for tonight's dinner, and work while church bells ring and the town wakes up in the evening light after siesta. It is pretty surreal and special while being 100% just your average day.

Green with envy? Don't worry, just in case you thought my horror stories of moving would be stopping, you sick little puppies enjoying my pain, I found out today that currently our residence cards and Padron registration have the same address on them... allowing me to be able to get the all important health care registration...BUT it is not our new long term rental address. What does that mean? Oh yes, you got it, I will need to jump through all the same hoops again to update the ID card and city registration... with La Reina at the Padron. 

Finding The Best of The Best

A very dear family friend asked me a very interesting question after seeing that I flew to London to taste a 1973 Chardonnay. Now it wasn't just any old Chardonnay that I flew to another country to taste, it was one that made history and put California/ the USA on the world wine map. This wine won in a blind tasting against the very best French Chardonnays (and other Napa wines) in what was called The Judgement of Paris. There is actually a delightful movie called Bottle Shock all about this wine that you really should see. So naturally it might cause you to wonder, as it did my friend, if this is the best wine in the world? Is there a single very best wine in the world? 

Having read about this wine or that wine being 'the best', my friend asked me, is there one best wine? He asked if I have had a best wine and what made it that? Was it the flavor or the cost? I have been asked versions of this question many times before, but somehow the way he phrased it really made me think and realize that there is a gap in how we, the industry professionals, have been trying to explain wine to you guys (the customers, enthusiasts, wine curious). I am going to try to answer this question differently and in doing so, I hope it starts a more open dialogue about wine.

What is the BEST wine I have ever had? Well, what does that question mean... really. Is it asking if I have tasted a 100 point wine? Is it asking if I have ever tasted a wine that made me cry? Or is it asking if I have had a wine that encapsulates what I love about wine and is therefore the best? My usual answer when asked something like this is that "the best wine is the one in your glass", but putting my smartass quips aside, I am amazed by the flood of wines that come to mind when I think of all the ways to interpret this question. What might make a wine great to me might be the exact thing that makes it the worst to you. This is how I usually put this question back to you, trying to make the world of wines more accessible, or at least that is what I thought I was doing. Now I am wondering if I actually simply left people feeling set adrift in a sea of wine that is so daunting they can't even fathom how to navigate it. Maybe giving finight answers, as opinionated as they will be, IS what people need. Let me give that a try and you tell me, does it help or hurt?

Have I tasted a 100 point wine? Yes. I was in the Czech Republic at a small international wine competition and 2 Masters of Wine and myself scored the wine 100 points. This is incredibly rare. A wine simply does not usually rank exceptional in ALL of the categories: color, aroma, bouquet, fruit, acid, tannin, balance, finish, overall impression. It was a Slovenian red wine that I can not remember the name of. So is that the best wine? Couldn't possibly be if I can't remember the name right? To that measure, I have also been a part of a jury selecting the Best in Show Sparkling Wine at a very highly regarded international wine competition where we were tasked with selecting the very very best out of all the gold medal winning sparkling wines which we later learned were from some of the most impressive producers in California and Champagne, but the blindly tasted winner? A Slovenian wine! I know, Slovenia is making wickedly good wines! What was that wine's name? Yep, you guessed it, I don't remember. 

OK so scores do not make for the best wine... even though technically that is exactly what we are saying as judges. So is it the most expensive wine that I have tasted that is the best? Well, I have tasted a 1990 Dom Perignon which many critics consider the best vintage of several decades and one of the best sparkling wines ever made. It was incredible. I even remember where I was standing when I tasted it at an event. The bottle had been slyly kept under the table while other top sparkling brands sat on the table for people to taste. The wine rep only poured the Dom for a select group of us that he deemed proficient in wine tasting enough to appreciate it. It was rich and creamy, bold in flavor yet elegantly balanced with acidity. It was beautiful and I enjoyed every drop. So is that THE best wine? Well, it was a $400 bottle then, who knows what it would go for today, but I would never spend that much on a bottle of wine... even if I had the kind of money that would allow me to spend that kind of money on a bottle of wine. There are plenty of sparkling wines that are swoon worthy at a fraction of the price. For example the Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque Champagne wines are always exceptional in my opinion and worth the price to celebrate something special. Jesse and I received a bottle as a wedding gift, a time in our lives when we were starting the winery, dirt poor, and absolutely obsessed with wine. After that, every time Jess and I had a big reason to celebrate, that was the wine we turned to (usually around $110). A Vintage Krug Rose Champagne was a spectacular wine given to us by my then wine mentor as a gift when our daughter was born. It is expensive (around $240) and while I have not personally purchased it, if you have the means, you should. A final example is the Canals Munne Gran Duc Grand Reserva Cava that a wine shop clerk helped me select to celebrate our residency going through in Spain. My daughter and I were alone in Spain at the time, using limited spanish to navigate a tricky bureaucratic system in order to register and become official residents of Spain. It had been a harrowing experience that I documented in several blog posts if you care to go on that journey. Being completely broke meant splurging on a bottle of wine was a truly frivolous treat. Luckily (err or maybe not?) we have raised our daughter, who has an amazing palate, to appreciate fine wine so she was as excited as I was to have our celebration be a bottle of wine. This bubbly was delicate yet complex, artistic and delightful while showing exceptional craftsmanship. It was stunning and we cried real tears as we sipped it. It is also only 40 euro. So, are any of those examples the best wine? Maybe, because they packed emotional punches in addition to being great wines. That could push them into the best category, but I hesitate to say that.

Quick aside: If you don't know to explore Cava yet, then you have not been listening to me. For years Cava has been the bubbly that is excellent at very inexpensive price points and bests many very expensive, famous brands. Also, our daughter is 19 and of legal drinking age in Europe.

The Cava did elicit tears, but really it was the event we were celebrating that combined to create an emotional moment. A wine actually making me cry with its beauty, that is a completely different beast. That has only happened once, and it was a moment so stunning that it is one of my most prized life experiences. I had been traveling in Central Europe with my family and judging at wine competitions in several countries when I paused that trip to be flown from Budapest to New York for a competition there. It was my 2nd time at that competition and I had earned the coveted invitation to the private tasting in a hotel room of one of the judges known to have an outrageous wine cellar. That sounds like a sinister plot for a young woman to be a part of, but I assure you it was an honor to be invited. Of those also on the guest list was a man called The Count who was one of the very first Masters of Wine... ever. Several incredible library wines were opened including Grand Crus and collector vintages of Italian greats, but there was one wine that happened to be my birth year, a 1978 Chateau Leoville Grand Vin de Leoville, Saint-Julien, Bordeaux, that stood out. The wine was poured for a room of "experts", murmurs of tasting notes were being swapped, but I had moved entirely into my own world and was tasting with my eyes closed. The wine was 41 years old at the time and while clearly showing age and maturity, it was also holding tight to bright fruit notes! It was astounding to me that the wine could age THAT well and it made me think of the French winemaker who had lovingly crafted this beautiful wine, lived out his life and hoped his wine would age with grace. The year he made that wine, I was born, across an ocean in another country. 41 years later that winemaker would be dead and I would be in a hotel room tasting the remarkable wine, marveling at the winemaker's artistry. The poetry of this thought, the interconnectedness, and the awe of what this man was able to create touched me deeply and I just started to cry. Quiet tears streamed from my eyes and I tried to hide deeper in my chair so I didn't attract any attention from the intimidating crowd around me. A hand on my knee broke me from the meditation and I opened my eyes to see The Count's wife looking at me concerned. Her attention to me drew the attention of The Count who leaned forward and asked "my dear, are you alright?". His speaking caused the room to hush, everyone waiting with baited breath to see what he had to say about the wine and why he was now talking to this little girl (at 41 I was often the youngest in the room of wine geeks). I stammered as I tried to reply and wipe tears off my face. I said I was fine I just thought the wine was beautiful. The Count wasn't going to leave it at that pushed that I describe what I was finding in the wine and why I thought it was remarkable. I shared that it was that someone was making this wine when I was just being born and that I was lucky enough to be siting there 41 years later, tasting one of the last bottles in existence. People stood silently starring at me while The Count beamed with joy. A year or so later I was in Berlin, Germany, at another competition swapping stories with fellow judges when one said the greatest wine story he had ever heard was from The Count who told him one of his most impactful experiences was in a hotel room in New York when a young woman was brought to tears by the beauty of a wine she was tasting. 

But was it the BEST wine?!? I know you are all asking. Well maybe. For me, in that moment, it certainly was. I also just had the privilege to taste the white wine that won The Judgement of Paris, now 53 years old, and it was electric in the glass. A white wine isn't supposed to age like that and it was beautiful. Is that then the best wine??? Or was it the 1977 Cab that was also poured that day that seemed to only now be stretching its legs? Or was it the Vivac Cabernet Franc my husband made (one of my all time favorite grapes in the world) that blew me away and caused me to fall a little bit more in love with him in that moment; seeing that he created something with such elusive resplendence was incredible. 

At this point in my very lucky life I have tasted some truly epic wines in incredible far way, sometimes secret corners of the world and have many "favorite" wineries so I hesitate to say that there is just one best wine. It depends on the day, the place, the reason I am tasting the wine. What I do know is that wine is a combination of extraordinary elements coming together and when everything is just right... the soil and weather conditions, the age of the vine and how much struggle it has had to lead to just the right complexity in the grapes, the winemaker's skill which needs to be as an artist and a chemist, the perfect aging and conditions to lead to its perfect timing to be in your glass and tasting perfectly when you sip it... all of that coming together is as close as we, as humans, will ever come to true magic.

So what is in your glass right now? Is it life changing? Is it remarkable? Chances are it is not. But is it delicious? Are you happy sipping it? Is it making your day just a little bit better? Well that sounds like a pretty awesome wine.

The Impossible Made Possible

The church bells toll only a few hundred feet from my home, but somehow they aren't an invasive sound. My mind travels back to a village in Columbia that we'd spent a month in where the clang of the church bells there was anything but enjoyable and rang so loud you could feel it in your bones. But today, in Spain, I hear the bells and feel serenity.

Serenity has been a little hard to find over the recent months. The search for a "forever" home was full of stress, doubt, worry and a little more stress on top. The housing shortage you hear about is legit, it just isn't quite what you think it is. Spain doesn't hate tourists, yes there were those few instances of water guns being used, but mostly the people of Spain are incredibly kind and loving people. The problem comes from a mess of laws that suddenly turned long term rentals with their rent caps and renters rights, into short term fluctuating priced Airbnbs. This translates to most places being rented for 11 months max, a hefty tax added on and being at the mercy of the landlords arbitrary price gauging during the highly sought after summer months. So if you are not a tourist and don't want to move every few months and also want to live in the city and on a budget of any kind, you are totally screwed. That is why people are pissed. As an example, our rent would be 1,600 euro/ mo + utilities until June when it would sky rocket. Our landlord offered the discounted rate of 4,500 euro/ mo because he liked us. That apartment will now be listed for 6,500 euro/ mo for June, July, August, and September. And it is not a spectacular apartment.

Paying a mortgage back in the USA and paying rent here in Spain not only stretched our bank accounts thin, but our ability to cope. Add the stress of looking for a rental that would be long term and didn't totally suck we had a combination that was almost going to break us. I was on all the websites and in all the FaceBook groups, we had several realtors on the prowl for us and looked at every apartment I could even if they didn't fit our needs. A recently renovated apartment with a huge balcony was tempting, but our adult daughter would have had to live in a closet. I kid you not, the owner justified that it was a 2 bedroom because technically you could fit a twin sized mattress in the closet. Another amazing option was a place that had a to die for balcony, several bedrooms and lots of natural light, but had a walled in kitchen that was so narrow and small that it had zero counter space and you could hardly open the fridge door all the way. I actually became claustrophobic standing in there with Jess. Then, at one point, we found a true gem of a place, we had a verbal agreement and I was measuring rooms so we could furnish it, when the owner came up with a tricky claus... you need to put 40,000 euro in a bank account that will have a hold on it and work as collateral to protect the owner. Is any of this legal? No not really, but there is also nothing you can do about it. What probably happened is that she decided to rent to someone else, probably someone that is Catalan. In case you were wondering, no I do NOT have 40,000 euros just laying around.

Jess was at the point that he wondered if he needed to return to the USA so that we could afford this transition. Our daughter and I could rent a tiny place and we could try getting Jess back over here down the road. Everyone was emotional and it started to feel like the wheels were coming off the bus. And then Jess bumped into our neighbors in the lobby. They had just come from looking at a place that was too big for them, but they thought would be great for us. It was unlisted, in the historic city center, and a reasonable rent with a long term lease. It was too good to be true. We didn't waste a single second, Jess went to go look at it while our daughter and I attended Spanish class. By the end of class I had an eager text to go meet him. He walked us through the twisting cobblestone streets behind the iconic Sitges church to an arched doorway in a stone wall. 

An aside: You know that game where you visit somewhere and you fantasize about what it would be like to live there? You pick the very best street and design what kind of home would make it the most magical. You definitely play at scenarios of which cafe or little market would be "yours". I have always loved this game, especially when I visit Europe. But could it become a reality?

Suddenly I found myself walking into a building that was built in 1901. The heavy latched windows stood open so you could gaze into the charming historic street. A large room, perfect for an office, welcomed us. Up the first twisting flight was the bedrooms and bathrooms full of hardwood floors and quirky charm. Another twisting flight up was the living room and kitchen. The kitchen was huge and even had a window that when you pushed back the shutters you were enveloped in a dazzling view of the tiled rooftops toward the church steeple. The living room balcony drew me to it and I simply had to step out, lean over the railing and relive my childhood fantasy of being a princess in a castle. Up a final twisting flight took us out onto a large rooftop terrace. The view spanned the historic city center and down toward the sea on the other side. It was incredible. Soooo...what's the catch?

Unbelievably there was no catch. It was ours for the taking. Sometimes luck is on your side and everything just comes together. We signed papers and received the quintessential skeleton key that screams 'I live in a castle!'. Our new home is steps from our very favorite section of the city. While surrounded by museums, we also have a wine shop next door and a cluster of cafes and shops around the corner. The very best shopping street, oozing with cuteness, is seconds from our front door and our favorite beach is a 3 min walk. Every day I fall more and more in love with this oddly cozy, stone tower, aka El Torre. Having a long term contract has removed the strain of wondering if we will be on the street soon, but has also given us a space to really connect with. Over the last 6 months my daughter and I moved 3 times. Definitely not the way to feel connected to a place. It has been a lot.

So it's all great now? You might ask. Well, no, not exactly, but getting there. We are in financial stress still. I have a social security number here and get to pay monthly taxes, yay! We are navigating the forever paperwork and are getting closer to the elusive Health Card where I will finally get to see a doctor and get my dwindling medications sorted out. Jess is trying to balance managing the winery from afar with settling in here and our daughter is juggling finishing her film certificate remotely while also jumpstarting a career. We've gathered that Catalan is actually the language we should be learning, but can't even contemplate that yet. For now, we will just try to master the Barca game chant sung everytime the team scores a goal. We can't go for lavish meals, but now have 5 markets we like for different reasons... that one for fruit, that one for meat, that one for spicy peppers you can't get anywhere else. We don't have a car or a scooter, so we go everywhere on foot and take the train to neighboring cities. We line dry our clothes which means they are always a little damp, watch tv in spanish and have embraced sobremesa (the mandatory hangout at the table after a meal for another drink and relaxed chat time). We have made a few friends and finally know where important placas are even though everyone seems to have a different name for them. We sleep in and stay up late. We don't take naps daily, but siesta is mandatory for the entire town and is a quiet time to rest, we take full advantage of that. Maybe the biggest difference from living in the USA and making this feel great is that we no longer hurry. Strolling to your destination is part of the enjoyment of going out... even if that destination is the dreaded Padron. 

Think of All The Beauty...

A year ago my family rang in the new year with glasses of bubbly and hopes for a happy, adventure filled 2025. It is astonishing now to think back to that time. We had zero idea we would be living in another country, having given up literally everything, and be reinventing ourselves a year later. This New Year's Eve, as we clanged plastic glasses filled with Cava together, hurriedly ate green grapes, and laughed until happy tears brimmed in our eyes, we are in awe of our new lives. 

I last left all of you in tears outside the hospital. A lot has happened since then...but also not much has happened. We almost found our long term apartment, have jumped into Spain taxes, and embraced our new futbol team (which is Barça, not because of Barcelona city, but because we live in the province of Barcelona, in Catalonia). You might be asking 'did you get your health card?' or maybe you are wondering 'what happened to the apartment?' or, and I have a packed list of DMs on this one "what is it like living in Spain?!?' I have been wanting to respond, but honestly it is hard to get all of the taxes done, work remotely, get new job opportunities rolling, have siestas, drink amazing cheap wines, eat delicious food and sit in the sunshine AND respond to everyone's messages. Ha ha ha ha, I know, you hate me. I would too.

I swear there really are hard things about giving away all your worldly possessions, upending your entire life and moving across the world, but I can't lie, the longer I am in Spain, in Sitges specifically, I love it more and more, I am happier than ever, and I have zero want to return to the USA. 

Honestly, I really did not expect it to be like this. Even during the hard times like finding the perfect apartment, getting to it before the million other people did, and start shopping for furniture only to have them surprise you with a 40,000 euro banknote claus, or having to pay one type of taxes every month and different quarterly taxes while also living on a decreased salary and paying rent while concurrently paying a mortgage in the USA, or that the lack of my medication and no health card in sight is causing painful Rheumatoid Arthritis flares... I am still impossibly happy.

I wake late in the morning, the sun shining with low cool tones of a winter hue. I sip my coffee and am grateful for the French Press we got ourselves for Christmas, a small luxury when you are broke. I stroll to spanish class and marvel at seeing the sea everyday. The beautiful Mediterranean Sea is Sitges blue, a shade impossible to single out, but lives somewhere between royal blue, cobalt, and azure. Emotions bubble up every single time I crest the grand marble steps in front of the medieval church, a symbol of Sitges. Descending the stairs, there is an elegantly tiled promenade lined with palm trees that hugs the beach and begs you to slow down, take a deep breath of the clean, mineral air and swoon. Charming cobbled stone streets wind through the city center. Cafes line the street and spill out into the walkway clawing at your willpower to join the happy faces watching the people pass by. This is where I live. This is my new life. 

And... also our apartment is too expensive and not great, I still don't have health care, and my spanish sucks, not that that matters because everyone is speaking Catalan anyway. This should be the earmarks of a miserable existence, but it isn't. I am celebrating 4 months in Sitges and yet it feels like I've never been anywhere else. 

There are still plenty of tears as I navigate a new country, but there are more and more times that are due to a cascade of emotion. Like when the sun sets hot pink woven with violet purple, so stunning it made my heart drop into my stomach. Or when the local florist puts new flowers out, electric with shades of yellow, magenta, orange, indigo and every shade of green you can imagine, so delightful that I am dizzy with synesthesia. Or when my daughter doesn't know I am watching her as she gazes out over our town from our favorite wine spot, her red hair gently blowing in the breeze and a look of true tranquility on her face, and it takes my breath away. 

It has taken a series of unfortunate events to bring us here, forced us to make drastic choices, yet the outcome has been bigger and better than our 2025 cheers could have ever dreamt. Pain and fear has given way to beauty and I am so grateful. 

"Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy" - Anne Frank