Never Retire: How I Know Spain Is Right For Me
Even without fluent Spanish, Valencia feels like home.
This post—featured somewhere on Substack—brought in several hundred mostly free subscribers. Thanks to Substack for the love. And welcome to the new readers.
So it felt like a good time to offer a welcome discount to all free subscribers. Use this link or the button below to redeem it.
The best value remains a founding membership. Pay $100 or more today and receive a lifetime subscription. I intend to write the Never Retire newsletter for the rest of my life—another 50 years or more if all goes as hoped, planned and intended (!).
So, you pay $100 once. You get 50 years. That’s less than a penny a day.
The other day, we showed a long-time Never Retire newsletter subscriber and her husband, who were in Valencia for a short time around our neighborhood. They’re the first people we have been able to do this with.
We met in front of the cafe downstairs from our apartment, then—
Walked through Russafa Market
Got some coffee at a cafe attached to the market
Bought some postcards
Went to the post office for stamps and to mail them
Toured part of the neighborhood, including a walk through Mercadona, the Spanish supermarket chain
Had lunch at a great vegan spot in Russafa called Café Madrigal
While they are not the first readers we have met here or who have become friends, they are the first we were able to give an unorganized tour to.
One of the biggest challenges for me is integrating into the country and our neighborhood as somebody struggling to learn and speak learning and really just starting to speak Spanish regularly. But this type of experience—which my wife and I will have next with our daughters in June—gives me some confidence and makes me think that maybe I am too hard on myself, especially regarding the language.
It felt good to walk through the market and—when he saw me pass—have the guy I buy chicken from recognize me and say hello. Understanding everything the server was saying felt good after my wife asked about our guest’s food allergies. It felt good to translate what had just been told to her.
It felt good to know things and show interested others some of the small pieces that come together to help create a life I love in a place I already love.
Learning a language—and putting pressure on yourself to learn it alongside the reality that you don’t have enough time to dedicate to formal studying—has its ups and downs.
When I’m tired at the end of the day after working, walking, bike riding and doing 90 minutes of hot yoga, my mind is scrambled—Después del dia, tengo una empanada mental—my Spanish is at its worst. I get frustrated when I can’t communicate socially and effectively with the people working at Oli Bar.
When I’m fresh—or I don’t let my nerves and anxiety get the best of me—I can see that my Spanish is improving. Slowly but surely—lento pero seguro. Like when I clearly and causally explained to the girl behind the counter at the cafe that—for some reason—I prefer the vegan chocolate chip cookie over the regular one.
She said—
Porque tiene más chocolate.
Without missing a beat, I replied with quick and confident—¡Eso es! Meant to say yes, exactly, right on, you got it or—literally—that is.
The more I go about my day to day, the more I realize that—as somebody said to us in a restaurant when we first got here—
El español se aprende en las calles. Spanish is learned in the streets.
And you learn it by reading it, writing it, listening to it and throwing it around in the streets, online with your Spanish instructor who feels more like a friend and around the house with your best friend and wife.
The key to feeling better about my Spanish has been simple: relax, stop worrying about mistakes, and just live. It’s the everyday moments—the quick conversations, the little exchanges at the market—that make the difference. When I reduce overthinking and just enjoy the process, things click and good moments happen naturally. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about living in the day to day.
I know plenty of people who move to a place that checks a lot of the same boxes—good weather, affordable cost of living, walkable city, interesting culture—but they still feel stuck. The language trips them up. Or the cultural differences start to wear on them. For me, those things feel like challenges, not deal-breakers. They don’t discourage me. If anything, they make me feel more engaged.
I think that’s how I really know this is the right place for me. Valencia gives me the kind of city life I’ve always wanted—the pace, the rhythm, the feel—and I want to grow into it.
Some places feel like a phase. This one feels like the plan.
I just finished my third block of Spanish lessons. I'm taking a break before I do the fourth. I have to remember how little was in the vault when I started. I can read and understand a bunch, and will spend time reviewing. I just got overwhelmed by all the rules and choices i need to navigate, so I'm playing around with basics again. Anyway I know it will be a totally different excersize when we are living in Spain. I'm super glad to have a head start and will try to be kind to myself as well. Somethings in my life are easy, satisfying and rewarding and others, (learning to swim at age 56 and learning at Spanish at 68) are a challenge. But I'm pleased and proud to be taking it on. Keeping Going :)
It is bold to move to a place where you are immersed in a new language, without having taken years to prep for it. And strength to endure being the odd man out until it is learned enough to get by on your own.
I feel like the third wheel most days, so I make the effort to learn their language. I was on a new crew this week and they are all Mexican. They speak English very well, but talk to each other in Spanish most of the time. When an inspector came out, he proceeded to speak in both to make sure I understood. One guy spoke up and said "she understands Spanish".. which I took as a compliment, although I really don't know that much. One guy later asked where I learned it, and all I can say was aprendí en el trabajo.