I’ve never been happier.
Marsha Scarbrough/Travel + Leisure
Seven years ago, I moved from the U.S. to Spain.
I was 70 years old and on my own.
Now, Im living my best life in the vibrant European capital of Madrid.
Heres how it happened.
I bought two houses and started selling real estate.
In the housing crash of 2008, both of my properties went underwater.
The value of each fell to $100,000 less than the mortgage.
Suddenly, my real estate was worthless, and I had no income.
By 2010, I was bankrupt, in foreclosure, and owed money to a friend.
The nest egg was gone.
I was 63 years old.
I had no children, no parents, no husband, no real estate, and no obligations.
I felt scared and, at the same time, euphoria for being completely free.
I am a well-traveled person, and I knew such places existed.
Credit:Marsha Scarbrough/Travel + Leisure
I set out to find the right one for me.
During Santa Fes freezing winters, I traveled in search of a warmer, more affordable home.
Id lived in Mexico for six months in 2000.
Marsha Scarbrough/Travel + Leisure
It was on my shortlist, but safety was a concern.
I visited in Chile, Argentina, Honduras, andPuerto Rico, too.
I spent three months in Brazil.
Marsha Scarbrough/Travel + Leisure
Salvador, Bahia, tempted me, but it wasnt affordable enough.
Antigua, Guatemala, also rose to the top of my list despite shaky infrastructure and potential safety issues.
He guided me through the citys diverse neighborhoods, elegant parks, world-class museums, and traditional tapas bars.
Marsha Scarbrough/Travel + Leisure
It turned outSpain was well within my budget.
The infrastructure was developed.
The public transportation was clean, convenient, andaffordable.
My friend took me toSevilleto meet his parents.
Days later, I experienced the same sensation strolling through the Albaicin in Granada.
I had found a place where I belonged.
I spent a week volunteering in an English immersion program for Spanish professionals.
I was enchanted by their enthusiasm, intelligence, and seductivejoie de vivre.
By the time I got back toMadrid, I had new friends.
For me, it evoked a comfortable nostalgia.
When it was time to return to the U.S., I didnt want to go back.
I thought, I could live here.
Back in Santa Fe, I started investigating the residency requirements formoving to Spain.
My pensions just met the financial threshold.
I started gathering documents, ordered an FBI report, and got an apostille.
My doctor wrote a letter saying I had no infectious diseases, and I bought Spanish health insurance.
I printed bank statements, took passport photos, filled out forms, and paid fees online.
Finally, I had everything translated into Spanish by a certified interpreter.
I arrived in Madrid two months later with four suitcases.
Id kept in touch with the Spanish friends I made when I volunteered at the English immersion program.
Within a week and a half, Id rented a furnished studio in the Chamberi neighborhood.
Isabel went with me to that appointment and the immigration office.
Thanks to her, I submitted everything by the deadline.
Three months later, my official residency card came in the mail.
Ive since discovered that helpful generosity like Isabels is common for Spanish people.
Now Zumba, Pilates, language exchanges, and Spanish classes fill my days.
Im writing the things I didnt have time to write during my working life.
Ive gotten healthier because I walk to and from public transportation.
Life without the expense and responsibility of a car is pure joy.
Spanish health care allows me to address all concerns without additional fees.
Since Madrid is a transportation hub, travel within Europe is easy and inexpensive.
Later this year, Ill go to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival and Venice for the Biennale.
Spain has proved to be all I hoped it would be and more.
My move turned out to be a brilliant decision, and I’ve never been happier.
