Over two years of dreaming has led to this. Going back and forth with self doubt, planning out my application period, actually applying, and then all the paperwork to legally and financially be able to do this. You would think I would’ve been more prepared to see my adoring parents tear up at the security check point to see me off, but I wasn’t. It still made me sad. Coupled with my own personal anxiety, I definitely needed a beer before that flight.

Twelve hours later…I am sitting in a Starbucks on Consell de Cent just catching an hour of Americana comfort to re-group before adventuring to the cute tapas bar I passed on the way here. I’ve already muddled through my shy Spanish with the cabbie, the hostel’s front desk, and the barista. It’s not pretty, but it works. But isn’t that the motto for most things in life?

Either way, I’m over the moon to be here for a year and truly experience España!