Eventually satisfaction and a desire for a big time corporate career carried me back to the States. I landed in Washington D.C. on 13th and U, to be exact. But this was an extremely short pit-stop only meant as a transition city between JoÂ´burg and NYC, even though it must be amazing to live there now with Mr. President Barack Obama. I voted absentee ballot, by the way! I found DC to be a place for either politicos, wanna-be politicos, students or born and bred Washingtonians. I was none of these and felt like the odd man out. This was all the inspiration I needed to get me to move to New York City.
I moved to Harlem with little more than a dream and a bit of cash in the bank. Somehow, someway, I made it through those first few terribly disappointing months without friends, a job, or a clue of where I could encounter the cool NYC I had heard about to carve out my own little world. It included all the things that most would be happy with- a promising career, a budding circle of friends and an even larger circle of interesting contacts/acquaintances, and a packed social calendar that included launch events, museum visits, parties, club dancing, bar hopping and restaurant cruising.
My original plan was to stay for three years, work my way into a position that would at least allow me to travel to Europe or even better transfer me there. Either way, I knew my time in New York was limited and would be trumped by a living in a European city. Which city? Who knew, who cared.
But three years turned into a six year, nine month exhilarating whirlwind.Â Anyone that has ever lived in or is living in New York now will understand the gravitational pull that city has over your soul. But the inevitable happened. At year five, I fell in love again. I began cheating on New York with Barcelona.
She, Barcelona, invited me to come get acquainted with (Antoni) Gaudi, the famous Spanish architect; (Pablo) Picasso, one of the most recognized painters in 20th century art and (Joan) Miro internationally acclaimed Surrealist painter. She teased me with her mild climate, the promise of beach side living with the heart of the city a short bike ride away. She moved at a mid-tempo pace, which I found relaxing. The roll of her r’s and the lisp of her z’s and c’s made me swoon. Two hour lunches, sipping Claras (an interesting mixture of beer and lemon soda like FantaÂ LimÃ³n) in an outdoor cafÃ©, reading a book in an old plaza, mid-day siestas and cheap flights to other European cities most of which are only two hours away… What else could I do except go? Love can make a girl do crazy things.
I quit my job letting go of a steady salary. I sold or gave away all my non-essential belongings (shoes and handbags included – that hurt!). I said teary-eyed good byes to friends and loved ones i.e., family, hair stylist, favorite boutiques/shop girls, brunch spot, nail salon, burger joint, etc.)
On January 12, 2009, I celebrated my two year expat anniversary here in Barcelona (pronounced Barthalona). The romantic dreams of my life hear weren’t all fantasy; weekend trips out of town equals going to Venice or Prague for example, meeting up with friends for coffee and/or Claras at an outdoor cafÃ© has become a ritual and I can roll my r’s now too. But there are some parts that are less fairy tale-like. In either scenario, I am looking forward to sharing the aggravations and delights of my vida en EspaÃ±a.
I will be posting news on my adventures of day-to-day life in Spain which I promise will be a TRIP as well interesting info as it relates to the art, culture and fashion scene.
– EspaÃ±a Fly
Last 5 posts by Espana Fly
- Canonâ€™s Second Shot Gets Me Crying - December 15th, 2010
- On Break From Barcelona - December 8th, 2010
- Barcelona, The Pope, The Protests & Who Paid For It - November 17th, 2010
- Finally, A Little Recognition - October 28th, 2010
- Spain's Desperate Economy Calls for Desperate Measures - October 15th, 2010