Never Retire: We're In Spain And We're Not On Vacation
Right place, right time
Technically, we entered Spain as tourists. But being a tourist isn't the intention. Becoming a resident is. With the ball rolling steady and straight on that front, it's funny. On our first day in Spain, I never felt more like a tourist, at least for a minute!
In that feeling, there's a super practical lesson for anybody ever making a move like this. An area where we made a logistical mistake I wish I could take back.
That and another learning or two from the actual move (in progress) in this first newsletter post from Spain (I'm smiling as I write this) alongside so much else, including:
How does it feel to finally be here? I mean, we did it. Or we're done talking about it because we're freaking doing it!
What happens next? After the holiday weekend across Spain, which we're spending in Barcelona, we head to Valencia to do life and conduct a bunch of administrative tasks, such as submitting the application for our residence permit.
To explain some of why we decided to move to Spain, we had to shit on the United States here and there. I’m not the first and won't be the last to weave that narrative. But, after one last symbolic, yet concrete-as-hell illustration of just how bad things have become, I want to leave that somewhat tired yarn (mostly) behind.
Así que, sígueme y subscríbete. Day one in the life of an American immigrant in Spain, officially doubling down on my intention to Never Retire!