Alright, it’s official. We did the thing. Villa Six is ours. And I’d like to say the process was smooth, that I sipped my café con leche while effortlessly navigating Spanish property law, but no. It was bureaucratic chaos, mild panic, and at one point, Marta muttering Spanish swear words under her breath at an estate agent. But somehow, we got there.
I’d love to say we walked into the notary’s office all cool and collected, but in reality, I was sweating through my shirt, clutching a folder so thick it could double as a doorstop. Our solicitor—who I’m now convinced is part lawyer, part magician—gave us the final rundown. Sign here. Sign there. Ignore the long silences while the notary reads everything at a snail’s pace. And then, just like that, we were handed the keys.
Buying a Villa in Spain: The Good, The Bad & The Unexpected
If you’re thinking of doing this yourself, let me break it down for you. Spanish property law is NOT for the faint-hearted.
1. The Reservation Agreement – The “We’re Doing This” Moment
Once we found the villa, we had to lock it down. Enter the reservation agreement—basically a document saying, “We’re serious, don’t sell this out from under us.” This came with a 1% deposit to take the property off the market.
What they didn’t tell us? Someone else was sniffing around.
We had a brief, very British panic. Marta was on the verge of a “polite but firm” email rampage, while I just kept muttering about whether this was a sign from the universe. But we moved fast and got it done.
2. Legal Checks – Read the Fine Print (Then Read It Again)
Here’s the thing—Spain operates on “buyer beware.” Meaning, if something’s wrong with the villa? That’s on us.
Our solicitor checked:
✔️ The villa was legally registered (you’d be shocked how many aren’t)
✔️ No sneaky unpaid debts lurking in the shadows
✔️ The land it sat on wasn’t part of some complicated inheritance dispute (also shockingly common)
Thankfully, Villa Six passed the test. Well, mostly. The community fees hadn’t been updated properly in the system, which led to a three-day back and forth with the sellers. But hey, at least no one secretly owned half our swimming pool.
3. The “Contrato de Arras” – Where Things Get Real
Next up: the Private Purchase Contract. Sounds simple? It’s not. This is the moment where we:
📌 Paid the big deposit (10%)
📌 Agreed to a completion date
📌 Got legally tied in so that backing out would cost us a fortune
This is where I had a quiet existential moment over a spreadsheet, while Marta went full “this is happening” mode and started planning where the fairy lights would go.
4. Currency Exchange – The Sneaky Cost Trap
If you’re buying in Spain with UK funds, DO NOT USE YOUR BANK.
We used Wise and saved thousands. (Not an ad, just the only reason we’re still within budget.)
5. The Notary – The Slowest, Most Important Part
Final stage. Deep breaths. We entered the notary’s office ready to sign. And then… we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Because in Spain, notaries take their time. They read every single page aloud, pausing dramatically, as if we were all part of some gripping legal thriller.
Finally—signatures done. Stamps stamped. It’s ours.
So… What Now?
The villa is ours, but the real fun is just beginning.
🏡 Fixing the garden (which is currently trying to swallow the patio whole)
🛠️ Updating the pool tiles so it doesn’t look like a 1970s relic
💡 Convincing Luke that Wi-Fi speed is not the most important factor in choosing a bedroom
🎨 Marta has BIG plans. I am… slightly afraid.
And now, the big question: What do we name it? Because “Villa Six” isn’t exactly poetic.
Final Thoughts If You’re Buying in Spain:
✔️ Get a good solicitor. (Ours deserves a medal.)
✔️ Be patient. No, seriously. You will wait. A lot.
✔️ Budget for extra costs. Taxes, fees, unexpected repairs—you need at least 10-15% extra on top of the purchase price.
✔️ Enjoy it. It’s stressful, but the moment you hold those keys? Worth every single moment of doubt.
So that’s it. We did it.
Now we just need to move in. What could possibly go wrong?