Running on from my last post (it’s been a while I know, stay with me people!) I had just celebrated New Year’s (2016!?) with some of my best friends, and somehow had already found myself awaiting an exciting opportunity. The interview I had joked about with Josh and his boss was, unbeknownst to me at the time, the beginning of my hiring process.
Fast-forward a couple of months and a few excited video calls later, I was offered a job at one of Spain’s most exciting start-up companies, and to top it all off, I would be working alongside my best friend, in the heart of the Spanish capital – was this living la vida loca?
I reread the email again and again, for fear it was all too good to be true – but it was all there. Dreams of sangria nights and constant sunshine were soon to be a reality! Now was the time to get excited! …and also a bit more organised.
I had lived abroad before, but this jaunt felt different. If given the opportunity, I think everyone should jump at the chance to take on an experience in a different country – there’s nothing quite like exploring what life could be like on different soil, and more often than not you end up discovering more about yourself than anything else.
The prospect of moving my life to Madrid felt different in many ways because, unlike my Erasmus stays, I didn’t know how long I’d be out there for. We could be talking years, not months; the job opportunity I was given was a permanent position, and I had a feeling I would (at long last!) be living out of more than just my 23kg suitcase – I could actually invest in some homeware!
It was different also in the sense that I’d be working. It wasn’t all going to be “Fun in the Sun” (although I had high hopes that a lot of the time it would be), but I was excited, because I would be starting a life out there, somewhere new, making new friends, knowing that I’d have a base and the time to really enjoy the place and all it had to offer – and not by the ticking clock.
By this time, Josh had been living in Madrid for almost a year, and from everything he’d told me, I was itching to leave London behind already. Working at the bank combined with the English winter (if you know, you know) spurred me on even more to make the move, and as soon as I received confirmation, I was ready to go.
The idea of homesickness hadn’t really crossed my mind this time round, as my poor family were used to my coming and going by then.
“Just let us know in time so I can get the beers in and your Mum can stock up the fridge.” I am, afterall, an absolute boozehound with the appetite of a bodybuilder.
Madrid had the advantage of only being a 2.5 hour flight away, something myself and my family could deal with. In fact, on learning of my news, Mum & Dad were overjoyed!
I handed in my notice and started looking for the perfect room in the heart of the capital – I wanted to be right slap bang in the very centre of all Madrid’s madness.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, being from London was exciting, but living in Suburbia, you’re somewhat limited to what activities the city can offer. You really need to be in zone 2 (at least) and have a decent pay packet to really enjoy yourself, while being able to pay bills, save, and not have to put up with THAT commute. Madrid was different. Looking at the prices of rent, I could be living in a flat-share in Sol, literally the most central point of the city, with a nice balcony, a view of the Plaza Mayor, and still have money leftover to have a life, travel, eat out – also I COULD WALK TO WORK.
By some sweet miracle that’s exactly where I ended up.