Bryan here. Marta kicked things off with her usual enthusiasm, but I figured it was time you heard from me—the voice of reason in this whole “Moving East” operation. If Marta’s the dreamer, I’m the one asking about the damp, the wiring, and whether the roof will stay intact through the first winter.
See, I like plans. Spreadsheets. Knowing that the house we buy won’t require urgent structural repairs two weeks after we move in. I’m a conveyancer by trade, so my mind naturally goes to things like legal loopholes and unexpected tax liabilities. You can imagine my reaction when Marta started sending me links to villas with infinity pools and “rustic charm.” My gut response? Suspicion. Followed by a lot of frantic Googling about property laws in Spain.
Villa Number One: A Lesson in Reality
The first property we viewed promised rustic elegance. What we got was rustic neglect.
The online photos had done a brilliant job of hiding the reality: cracked tiles, a pool that looked more like a swamp, and a “spacious garden” that was actually a jungle. The driveway was so steep I’m convinced you’d need a team of sherpas to get up it.
Marta, ever the optimist, gestured at the crumbling exterior and said, Think of the potential! I, meanwhile, was thinking about the cost of repairs.
Finding the Middle Ground
Here’s what I’ve learned: Marta and I have very different ideas of what makes a perfect home.
- She wants character. Arched doorways, wooden shutters, maybe a rogue lemon tree in the garden.
- I want functionality. A house that won’t fall apart the moment we turn on a tap.
- The kids? Anna wants “something cool” (which could mean anything), and Luke only cares about Wi-Fi speed.
We’re negotiating. Marta’s agreed to focus slightly less on charm, and I’ve promised not to veto every house with a dodgy-looking roof.
Villa Number Two: Almost, But Not Quite
The second viewing was… better. A modern villa, huge windows, sleek kitchen. Very nice.
Marta loved it. I mean, full-on spinning in the living room like she was in a musical loved it.
But it felt a bit too polished. Too… show home. Like the kind of place where you’d be afraid to spill a cup of tea. Also? It was miles from the sea. If we’re doing this, I want to be able to smell salt in the air.
Lessons Learned So Far
- Photos lie. What looks like a dream online can turn out to be a DIY disaster in person.
- Compromise is key. I’m learning to see potential, and Marta is learning to acknowledge flaws.
- Spanish time is real. Viewings happen when they happen. Bring snacks.
What’s Next?
More viewings. More spreadsheet updates. More debates over how much over budget is too over budget.
I’d love something solid, well-built, near the sea. Marta’s still holding out for her Mediterranean dream. Somewhere in between, we’ll find our home.
I’ll keep you posted. And yes—there will be a spreadsheet involved.