Costa Blanca, Spain

Nothing like boarding a flight you didn’t even have 12 hours ago and stepping off somewhere you’ve never even heard of… but even just pressing our hands to the window had us thrilled before we ever left the plane.
It was WARM.

We hopped in a cab, made our way to the last-minute Airbnb, and were thrilled to feel our bodies thinking about sweating as we peered at the arid, rolling hills of the Costa Blanca — and eventually to set eyes on the ocean.

I know, I know — it’s only been like a week since we were on the water in southern France… but we haven’t spent more than a few hours without seeing blue water in over six years. We’re doing our best over here!

After the chaos of airports, deadlines, speeches, and freezing wind, this heat (and our intent to slow down) felt medicinal. Like our nervous systems had been waiting for permission to relax.

Between the ocean and the heat (and having no plans or timelines for a while), it just felt like the kind of warmth that seeps into your bones and tells your nervous system to stand down. We exhaled more deeply than we had in weeks.

We arrived at the Airbnb, finally figured out the keys/lock situation, and stepped inside — only to realize we had multiple bedrooms and nobody to offer them to. Oh well. The balcony looked out at the ocean, and we spent far too long just staring and soaking it in, breathing it in… feeling like ourselves again.

Just to the left of our view was a tiny marina.
Hard not to think of svKarma and how lonely she must be, sitting in Tahiti with nobody aboard. We're still so much more accustomed to being in the bay rather than looking out at it, and it’s easy to let the mind wander to “what ifs” and start questioning decisions. It’s fair to say we’re missing the boat and the ocean — so hopefully some time on (or at least just looking out at) the Med will start to make us feel whole again.

We spent at least a day simply relaxing, catching up on all the things we hadn’t gotten to over the last week or three.
It had been a hot minute since we’d had a few hours in a row to just be. My to-do list definitely showed it, and I started trying to dig out (or dig in — I’m never quite sure).
Jen was delighted to not only have a full kitchen at her disposal (and enough space to stretch out her yoga mat) but also found a lovely produce market just a short walk away.

The place had balconies on both sides (knew that second bedroom would come in handy for something), so for the first time since being on Karma, we were able to soak in both sunrise and sunset.
Deep sigh.
Feeling more normal already (as if “normal” has ever really been on the table for us).

A day or two in — filled with sunrises that felt like breathwork. Beach walks that doubled as therapy. Sunsets that we once again treated as ritual — and we started feeling a bit more prepared to explore. The beach we were on definitely had rows and rows of apartments, but everything felt mostly like a ghost town. A few shops open here and there, a handful of people on the beach or strolling the esplanade… but otherwise, the place just felt empty for the amount of infrastructure here.

Which, to be fair… kinda felt perfect. We’ve always preferred the stillness of the in-between seasons.

Jen sourced a local car rental shop, walked across town to pick it up, and just like that — we were free to roam!

We drove as far north on the freeway as we could while still being able to get back home before dark, then wandered slowly through all the oceanfront villages and cities on the way back.
Culture shock still setting in…

Here we were in what felt like the middle of nowhere on the coast of Spain — and these “villages” and “towns” were packed as densely as any city, with high-rises and tight streets.
But it’s hard to question the beauty of the Mediterranean Sea stretching out in front of them.

We stopped for tapas and sangria when we got hungry, pulled over when the view called for it, and mostly just explored to get a feel for the towns.
It felt a LOT like our trips to Mexico back in the day — sipping tequila and eating roadside tacos in between searching for a town that felt enough like home to plant a future in.

Can’t say we’re actively looking for a future home in Spain… but I’d be lying if I said we aren’t always hardwired to keep one eye open for whatever place speaks to us — as either our next home or our eventual/later home, when we’re ready to put a foundation under us again.

Being able to speak Spanish here makes a huge difference, and finally being warm again helped spark conversations about what a life might look like with a few months on the Med, a few months in French Polynesia, and a few in the Caribbean — bouncing around as storm seasons demand. Wait... not everyone spends their time dreaming in this way??

Our favorite spot — without question — was this little pocket bay tucked alongside a much bigger town.
You knew the city was there, but you definitely didn’t feel it once you rounded the corner and wound your way through the steep switchbacks down into the bay.

And then suddenly — boom.
Still water, tightly stacked homes climbing the cliffs that hugged the perfectly tiny bay, and — as you got close enough — the smell of grilled fish wafting from a café overlooking the pocket beach.

Once there, it was incredibly easy to picture ourselves lounging on that beach, sipping sangria from our oceanfront balcony — or better yet, jumping off the back of the only catamaran anchored in the bay.
If that had been where our Airbnb was located, there’s little doubt we would’ve swum out at some point to say hello… or try to get invited onboard for a sundowner.
People do that, right??

As we finally pulled ourselves away and drove back up the hillside, we spotted a lone snorkeler freediving along the cliffs, presumably hunting for his next meal — and couldn’t help but picture ourselves spending at least a few nights here onboard. I could almost smell the lobster on the grill.

The next few days we explored further south, then back north again to hit the towns we’d missed — repeating the oceanfront tapas (and another Mexican restaurant stop) as needed.

While the beach in front of our Airbnb wasn’t our favorite along this coastline, it certainly served its purpose for daily beach walks, feeling saltwater on our skin, and even offering up a bit of a science lesson.

Instead of just shells and seaweed, the high tide line here was littered with fuzzy brown balls of various sizes. We came up with plenty of humorous theories (only one of them even remotely correct), but apparently, in this part of the world, the fine strands of floating seagrass wrap around a small object (a shell, stone, or stick) and begin forming into a dense sphere that eventually rolls its way to shore.

These balls — called Neptune’s Balls (no, we didn’t make that up) — are not only weirdly fascinating, but apparently help trap microplastics. The local university is currently researching them as a possible solution for helping clean up our too-polluted seas.

We truly had a great time here. It felt so good to slow down and just be in one place for a while…
That is, until our next set of European plans started drawing near.

We had to meet friends in southern France, and it was time to start heading in that direction.We didn’t find any answers about our future here (though we also weren’t really looking).

But we found our pace again — and that was exactly what we needed.