A reader named, let us say, David wrote to us with a question that many people quietly carry. He is in his early sixties, his retirement income will be about fourteen hundred dollars a month, and he wants to know whether that is enough to retire in Spain. It is a brave and honest question, …
After four years of writing about life in Spain, and several more of living it, I get a lot of questions from Americans thinking about making the move. They ask about the cost of living, the visa, the healthcare, the weather, the food, the bureaucracy, all the practical things you would expect. But there is …
Walk into a tapas bar near the Puerta del Sol in Madrid, the heart of the tourist district, and you will see two entirely different meals happening at once. At one table, the tourists, ordering the famous things, the sangria, the paella, the patatas bravas drowned in two sauces, certain they are eating the real …
Two Andalusian cities, two very different propositions for the American retiree, and a choice that the glossy relocation guides tend to fudge because they do not want to say anything that might put anyone off either one. Granada and Sevilla are both wonderful, both quintessentially Andalusian, both far cheaper and more livable than almost any …
The dream of retiring in Spain is built partly on truth and partly on a collection of beliefs that turn out, on contact with reality, to be wrong. Some are wishful, some are fearful, and some are simply outdated, but together they form a picture of Spanish retirement that does not match what people actually …
A weaker dollar does not kill the Europe plan. It just kills the lazy version of it. The lazy version was built on two comforting assumptions. First, that Europe would stay vaguely affordable because that is how people talked about it in 2023, 2024, and parts of 2025. Second, that the exchange rate was irritating …
The headaches started in my late twenties. Not migraines exactly, but a persistent low-grade pressure behind my eyes that showed up three or four times a week. I blamed stress. I blamed screens. I blamed the fluorescent lights in every American office I ever worked in. What I never blamed was lunch. For years, my …
The American arrives in Madrid in July braced for an ordeal. The heat is famous, the warnings dire, and the instinct, honed by a lifetime of air-conditioned American summers, is to treat the season as a thing to be endured indoors, sealed away from the sun, waiting for it to pass. And then they watch …
There is a received wisdom about Mediterranean travel that says to avoid July, that the heat is too much and the crowds too thick, that the wise traveler comes in the gentler shoulder seasons of spring and fall. And for some places, the overrun famous spots, that wisdom holds. But there is another truth that …
The Canary Islands are exactly the kind of place that makes a middle-aged American couple say something dangerous: “We could live here for less.” And they might be right, at first. The weather is easy to fall for. The pace feels human. Daily life can be cheaper than many U.S. metros. Las Palmas and parts …
At ten in the evening in a Madrid summer, the city is just sitting down to dinner. The plazas are filling, the terraces are full, children are still playing in the squares, and the whole social life of the city is unfolding in the warm night air, hours after an American city would have gone …
The American walks into a Spanish restaurant at seven in the evening, hungry for dinner, and the first thing that happens is nothing, because the kitchen is not open, will not be open for an hour or more, and the staff are having their own meal. It is the first of a series of small …