I might want to live here.
There is the beach, there is the relaxed flow of life, there is the sun that doesn’t set till long past 9pm. I feel completely relaxed and refreshed in this space. I feel like I get everything I need here in Castelldefels. I don’t know the language, and this is of course a problem, but I would be willing to learn as a way to spend more time in the space. Its this or Italy thus far, and both present themselves as excellent options, though I’ve had far worse luck with Italian beaches–for one they are generally pay to play and crowded. Also, the beach culture here is more relaxed in every possible way.
Putting these male proclivities aside, the measure of these places thins a bit. Italy has its own magic. Pizza and magic. And pizza. That being said, the other contrast is that we’ve found ourselves in a small suburb that we can move about easily and is bustling with energy where we need it to be and always chill on the walk home. I like that, said the old New Yorker. I like being able to control what sort of pace I am getting into. That isn’t a New York option for the most part. It is more of a Italy option, but living in the margins in Italy is a harder sell. Perhaps the key is to have more experiences.
We spend our summers in exploration. I’ve considered and discussed the possibility of coming back to this place to see if we like life here. I know we like this city, but Barcelona doesn’t hold a candle to Italy. This is where the real separation occurs. I don’t know what we would do if we lived here. Perhaps the key is to live in Italy and discover what wonders lay coastally?
These are wonderful problems to have. First world problems I never thought I would measure my life by. Yet here I am on the first leg of an extended summer vacation which will bring me from Spain, to Tennessee, and eventually to wedlock in British Columbia. Sometimes it’s good to be the Talislegger.