One night in February, as I was looping my squid-ink spaghetti through a fork, Alex from across the table asked, “Would you not like to live elsewhere?” I flatly answered, “no.” I saw neither the need nor the attraction of packing my life in a suitcase, immersing myself into a mountain of paperwork (which I think nobody ever does willingly) when I can be perfectly contented with the occasional travels and the difference between holiday and relocation is clearly distinguished.

I run the risk of being labeled as a hypocrite writing about the housing crisis of Spain, for we are that one non-Spanish family leasing a property in the center of Madrid. It will probably aggravate it further to say that we did not displace a local but just another foreigner — the rental rate, to tell the harsh truth is not affordable vis-a-vis the local wages.

Why did you choose Madrid?

*Borrowing from the mighty, and my favorite Spanish director, Pedro Almodovar’s Dolor Y Gloria (Pain and Glory)