I’m in my sixties, we are starting a new chapter and life is shifting — again. After eight beautiful years in France, we are about to put our house in Limoux on the market and are preparing to begin a new adventure in southern Spain. Together with my sister, we’ve put down a reserve offer on a house near Cómpeta in Andalucía. As a matter of fact the Contracto de Arras is being prepared as we speak. It seems like it is really happening!
France was good to us. The rhythm of life in Limoux, the beautiful square – definitely one of the better ones in France, the wine, the landscape, the people — all part of a chapter we truly loved. But life evolves, and so do we. Our decision to move is a blend of practicalities, lifestyle choices, and the rising cost of living in France. Spain has been on the radar for a while, and it’s time to go for it.
Central Limoux – our hometown for 7 yearsIl y a toujours une fête à Limoux – always something going on!
Our research so far
It all began with a winter trip in 2024, when we explored the region between Valencia and Castellón. Uninspired by what we found, we decided to head further south this year, spending four months exploring the Costa Blanca. We chose this area, hopeful it might finally offer what we were looking for.
Surprisingly, it didn’t. Lovely in several aspects, but not quite us for many reasons. Our search is complicated because we are looking for a property that can be divided in two independent sections – one for my sister and partner and one for us. Our research shifted further south although we always said that that the South of Spain might be too hot.
We discovered in the Costa Blanca that we don’t mind the heat after all we lasted in Brisbane for 17 years. We dislike cold, wind, grey skies—Limoux and Costa Blanca had too much of that this spring.
The whitewashed villages and rolling hills of Andalucía felt just right. Slower pace, warmer winters, and something that felt closer to the life we envision.
My sister found a place that ticked almost all the boxes, went to view it, and came back with a “yes.” We now will have a garden, a pool, olive and fruit trees. We’re not in a village but not isolated either — the best of both worlds. Cómpeta itself is a beautiful, white Andalusian town with a community feel and creative energy.
Embracing this new chapter with gusto!
The next few months will be all about transition: selling the house in France, downsizing, learning Spanish (I started in January and still have a long way to go), navigating tax and health systems, and of course — the actual move. All this while still working a 30-hour job. It’s going to be exciting, overwhelming – probably both.
This move isn’t just a relocation. It’s a deeper shift — toward community, simpler living, growing some of our own food, eating well, restoring a home with love and intention. It’s about carving out a wholesome and sustainable life in our later years.
This is the beginning of a new chapter. I’ll be sharing the process here — the ups and downs, the practical tips, and the joys of starting over in a new place. If you’re 50/60-plus and wondering whether such big changes are still possible — let me tell you, they are.
I’m living proof and I know I am not the only one!
After 16 weeks of exploring the Costa Blanca, our Spanish house hunt came to an end mid May – or did it not?
In my last blog post, I mentioned that we missed out on a house in Orxeta. Well, things took an unexpected turn: the buyer pulled out, and we suddenly had a chance to view the house after all.
A Second Chance in Orxeta
It was nearly perfect—great location, stunning views, and close to the charming village of Orxeta. We had a viewing and liked the house in many ways. To recap: we’re on a house hunt for a property that allows for two separate living spaces—one for my sister and her partner, and one for us.
This house technically offered that setup. In fact, the second “house” used to be a bar—and it still looked very much like one. It would take significant renovation to turn it into a home. The pool was also in poor condition, and to top it off, there was an issue with the septic tank.
In the end, we decided it would require too much cash and effort to make it in what we wanted. So, despite the near-perfect location, we passed.
Changing our focus may be on the radar!
A Change of Direction
That decision left us feeling a little deflated. Was the Costa Blanca really the right area for us? It’s hard to explain—it was more of a gut feeling than anything concrete.
A few hints led us to start looking at Andalusia—initially just online, since it’s a six-hour drive away. Then my sister came across a very interesting property and sent it our way.
At that point, we were at the end of our four-month Spain journey. Energy and enthusiasm were running low. But something about this house told us it was worth looking into. My husband even considered driving the 600 km to see it. In the end, though, my work commitments and our upcoming return to France made that difficult.
So my sister took the reins and flew to Málaga to view the property.
Changing our focus to Andalusia – impressive statue in Moraira.
Could This Be The End of our House Hunt?
They saw the property—and it immediately felt like it could be the one. It just wasn’t in Costa Blanca; it was in Andalusia. The house and land ticked nearly all the boxes—except one. It didn’t yet have a DAFO.
A DAFO is a certificate issued by the town hall confirming that a rural property is legal and won’t be subject to fines or demolition. It offers maximum security to the buyer. You can read more about it here.
Apparently, the DAFO was in the process of being issued. The catch was that no one could say when it would be finalised—meaning there was no way to guarantee when (or if) it would end up in our hands.
Now, none of us is familiar with the ins and outs of Spanish property law, rural zoning, or habitation certificates—and we didn’t want to fall into a trap. So we opted to hire a lawyer to take over and dig into the details.
Our House Hunt is Getting Serious
Five days later, we signed a reservation contract and paid a small deposit to take the house off the market. Our lawyer added a few protective clauses—if the DAFO didn’t come through, we’d have the right to withdraw or renegotiate.
That may sound easy—but believe me, it wasn’t.
My sister and her partner were on a roller coaster ride trying to get everything clarified and agreed upon. During that time, they stayed in nearby Cómpeta, in an Airbnb run by two guys who had appeared on A Place in the Sun. Cómpeta is one of those gorgeous white Andalusian villages. They met several locals, many of whom offered invaluable tips and insights about the area.
Lessons from the Road
That experience helped us make an informed decision when the ‘right’ house came along—even if it was in a different region than we originally imagined.
Villa Joiosa at the Costa Blanca is famous for its vibrant coloured housesSunrise view from Altea, a gorgeous white village on the Costa Blanca
So, to recap: we spent four months exploring the Costa Blanca, drove 6,000 km, visited dozens of towns and villages, and viewed several properties—without a concrete result. But we learned a lot along the way: what doesn’t work for us, how Spanish bureaucracy ticks, and what legal and logistical pitfalls to avoid.
That experience gave us the clarity and confidence to make an offer on this Andalusian home. With the help of a good lawyer, we knew exactly what we were getting into—and what needed to be double-checked.
The property ticks most of our boxes, and what’s missing can be addressed over time.
Our lifestyle change journey in Spain continues—and this week, it brought us to a little gem of a village called Orxeta, tucked away in the hills behind Vila Joiosa. We’d driven through it not long ago during a road trip to explore more inland areas like Relleu and Sella.
I remember pointing out a few things about Orxeta when we drove through. It had a bakery and a chemist—small essentials that quietly signal life in a village. My husband, however, dismissed it within seconds. “I don’t think we need to stop here,” he said.
Central square of Orxeta with a marketOne of the quaint village streets in Orxeta
Funny how things come full circle. Now, just weeks later, there’s a promising house within walking distance of this little gem of a village. The online ad looked intriguing, and we quickly arranged a viewing. The estate agent, to our surprise, was responsive and helpful—quite rare in our experience. She had moved to Orxeta herself five years ago, relocating from nearby Finestrat, closer to the bustle of Benidorm.
We arrived early for our viewing and wandered through the village. To our delight, it was more than charming—it was remarkably well-kept. The streets were tidy, houses freshly painted, and the town square lively. There was a small market, a grocery shop, a pharmacy, a bakery, two cafés, and a few restaurants. Small, yes—but everything we could need.
The cheapest coffee of our trip
Over coffee and tostado (a modest €4 for both of us), we began to picture ourselves here.
A Near Miss—and What We’ve Learned
But then came the disappointment. The seller had accepted an offer the night before—from a different agent. Just our luck.
Why was it so disheartening? Because after 14 weeks of researching the Costa Blanca and its hinterland, we’ve fine-tuned what really matters to us in this lifestyle transition:
Proximity to a village—we don’t want to be isolated
Authenticity—a true Spanish town, not just an expat enclave
Basic amenities—at least a shop, pharmacy, and a café
Signs of life—not a dying village, as sadly many rural spots in Spain and France seem to be
Accessibility—within short driving distance of supermarkets, services, and the coast
Connection to a city—here, Alicante, with its medical facilities and hospital
This house, or rather this location seemed a little gem and ticked all the boxes. Even though we only glimpsed it from afar, it left an impression. Of course, many things could have been wrong with the house—we are not romanticising blindly. We are becoming aware of the ins and outs of buying property on terra rústica land.
The Hidden Complexity of Rural Living
On rustic land, you can generally make changes inside the house—but anything outside could be illegal, including something as significant as a pool. Regulations can be strict and vary by region.
As fate would have it, the offer on the house fell through. According to the agent, it was due to the buyer’s financial issues, though it’s just as likely a legal complication was uncovered. The agent recommended we engage a lawyer to perform thorough due diligence. It turns out that in this part of Spain, a notary mainly certifies your signature and not much else.
Yes, hiring a lawyer may cost extra, but for peace of mind? It’s probably worth every cent.
So now we’re back in the game. Another viewing the this house in Orxeta is on the cards. It’s quite exciting, really.
A Lifestyle Vision Comes into Focus
Whatever the outcome, we feel closer to understanding what our future life might look like. This location isn’t in the well-known Marina Alta region and we are not even sure we would want to be there. A little gem like this may be the next best thing—or even better, in its own quiet, understated way.
This journey is as much about rediscovering what we want from life as it is about buying a house. For anyone 50-plus considering a lifestyle change—whether moving to the sun, downsizing, or seeking simplicity—this kind of exploration can be deeply fulfilling.
We’ve been exploring the hinterland of Alicante and Villajoyosa, visiting charming inland towns like Aspe, Novelda, Monóvar, and Agost. AI describes them as authentic and charming and these places sounded like hidden gems. The reality, however, often missed the mark. Our latest trip took us to Castalla, Ibi, and Tibi—again, seemingly promising towns described as offering an undiscovered, traditional Spanish lifestyle.
Tibi, in particular, drew us in with a house that looked very promising. We scheduled a viewing for Easter Sunday and set off, full of hope.
The drive up the A7 from Alicante was a breeze. Smooth motorway, hardly any traffic, and before we knew it, we were over 650 meters above sea level. That’s when it hit us—literally. The temperature dropped from 19°C to just 9°C. Thankfully, I had packed some winter woollies, which I needed!
Charming Inland Towns: Authentic but Uninspiring
We started in Castalla. Yes, it has a castle, an old town, and an authentic Spanish center with playgrounds, cafés, and parks. But it felt a bit faded—past its glory days. The surroundings were mostly service areas, large stores, and small industries. From the castle’s viewpoint, the industrial sprawl was unmistakable.
Old town of CastallaView from Old town Castalla
Next up was Ibi. Pleasant, but it took us ages to find the town center. I’m not sure if it’s us or the way Spanish inland towns are laid out, but we struggle to locate their “heart.” Sometimes it just feels like a grid of streets. We had a similar experience in Ontinyent—we never found the center at all.
Eventually, we stumbled upon Ibi’s older quarter, and it was better than we initially thought. AI descriptions weren’t completely off, but the town didn’t steal our hearts either. To be clear, we don’t want to live in a town—we’re looking for places nearby with appealing surroundings. This area, unfortunately, didn’t offer that. It felt too industrial, with open-air quarries and possibly some pollution.
Central street in Ibi
The House in Tibi: Almost Perfect—Almost
The real reason for this trip was a house viewing in Tibi. The village itself is split by a valley, quaint but with not much going on. The house was located 8 km away, in an urbanización called Terol.
Now, who decides where to build these residential clusters in the middle of nowhere is beyond me. Terol had a popular restaurant, but the rest of it? Unsealed roads, no shops, no walking paths—just roads. It felt isolated. And in heavy rain? I imagine the roads turn into a mud pit.
We met the owners, who had come from Alicante with their whole family—perhaps to help with English, though we managed the visit mostly in Spanish. The house was lovely. Legal too—on terra urbana, which means no shady paperwork. This matters a lot. We’ve seen what happens otherwise. Once, we visited a house on terra rústica in Pedreguer where the owner told us to build a pool anyway and just pay the fine. That cowboy attitude might have worked in the past, but Spain is tightening its rules.
View on Tibi
Back in Tibi, the house ticked nearly all our boxes. But my eyes kept drifting toward the opposite plot, fenced with a horrible green material. From our higher vantage point, I could see a hut, an outdoor kitchen, a wood chopping area, and people gathered with loud music and drinks. A casual hangout? Maybe. But if it becomes a weekend party zone, I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. A little voice inside me said: “Run!”
The Verdict: Lessons Learned
In the end, Castalla, Ibi, and Tibi may be charming inland towns and “authentic,” but they’re not for us. Too cold, too high—so we’ve now added a new rule: no towns above 250–300 meters altitude.
And those urbanizaciones in the middle of nowhere? Not really my favourite! I’d rather have a local shop, a café within walking distance, and actual walking trails—not just roads.
Key Takeaways
Above 500 meters altitude brings colder weather
Many towns are charming but lack vitality or community feeling.
Don’t just judge the house—judge the neighborhood and nearby amenities.
No shops, sealed roads, or walkability? Probably not worth the trade-off.
Thinking of living in Spain? After 13 weeks exploring the Costa Blanca and the hinterland of Alicante, we learned that finding “the perfect place” is harder than it looks
In January this year, we set off to Spain, searching for the perfect place to live. After just over 3 months, we can now conclude: this road will not be an easy one.
We chose the Costa Blanca, as we had visited before and liked the vibe. Sure, it has Benidorm — but what in life is ever perfect? The Marina Alta, with its charm, beautiful scenery, and cute towns, drew us in. We are not alone; the area is full of North Europeans who, like us, sought a different lifestyle — warmer, cheaper, or simply something new.
However, it seems we might have missed the boat, both financially and culturally. Spain has almost disappeared from this area, taken over by the Dutch and the Brits.
So, we decided to head further south and explore the hinterland around Villajoyosa and Alicante. We already checked out Castalla, Ibi, and Tibi — but for many reasons, it wasn’t our thing. One reason being the altitude of 700 meters: higher means colder, especially in winter — and escaping the cold was the whole idea!
Exploring the Alicante Hinterland: Aspe, Novelda, Monóvar, and More
This time, we picked an area right in Alicante’s backyard: Aspe, Novelda, Monóver, Monforte, and Agost. Quite an ambitious list for one day, but we managed to visit them all — and were left feeling exhausted and a bit disillusioned.
Our first stop was Aspe, with around 20,000 inhabitants. Parking was easy, and the centre pleasantly surprised us. It ticked many of our “must-have” boxes: a market, lively cafés on every corner, a gorgeous square with a lovely church, lush trees, a few cafés, and a pretty park with a fountain. I could easily imagine bubbly summer nights here. We had an excellent coffee — just €1.30 — and noticed we were likely the only English speakers around. Full of hope, we moved on!
Imagine balmy summer nights…..
Only 4 or 5 km down the road was Novelda. Again, parking was easy, but the first impression was very different. Street after street of parked cars, a random shop here and there, but not much else. No cute cafés, no hidden nooks, no real centre. Eventually, we found a square with a church and a few attractive pedestrian streets — but it all felt a bit empty, lacking soul. Surprising, as Novelda is bigger than Aspe, with 27,000 inhabitants.
According to some – a lively town
Monóvar, Monforte, and Agost: Hopes and Realities
Onwards to Monóvar, a town of just over 12,000 people. Again, it had the same uninspiring grid of streets. The historical centre was worth a walk — lots of steps, a scenic church, a castle, and plenty of cats. Yet again, there wasn’t much soul. Not many cosy cafés or spots to enjoy our picnic lunch. A Spanish lady asked me if I liked their “pretty town” — I wasn’t sure what to say.
A hike up to the church was part of the deal
We quickly drove through Monforte without stopping — it didn’t feel like we needed to see more — and finally arrived in Agost. At 376 meters altitude and just under 5,000 inhabitants, Agost is quite a cute town. It has a long pottery tradition, with 11 active potteries and even a pottery walking trail. All in all, not bad — but again, it didn’t quite pull us in either.
Town of potteries
By then, we decided we had earned a sunny terrace and a cold beer.
Final Thoughts: A Challenging Search
Our verdict? This area has some decent towns, but the immediate surroundings are less attractive. The valley is wide and flat, and although the towns sit lower (300–400 meters) than Castalla and Ibi (700 meters), the landscape felt somewhat desolate. There are many quarries, mines, and marble industries around Novelda and Monóver, making the surroundings messy and dry — less trees, more bush.
Interestingly, AI and some travel blogs seem more positive about this area. Maybe they see it through the eyes of a tourist? We are exploring these places to live year-round, which is a very different lens.
Aspe? I would consider visiting again — it showed potential. Agost? Too small, and likely touristy in summer. The others? They didn’t convince me.
Call me difficult, but it has to feel right — this might be our last move after all!
