In my last post, I announced our upcoming move from Limoux to Andalusia. To put it in perspective, I would like to elaborate a bit more on Limoux. It all goes back to 2014 when I did what possibly some women might dream of but never actually do.
While living in Brisbane, Australia, I took a few months’ sabbatical and headed by myself to southern France to find a house. We had created a list of criteria, and with those in mind, I explored a part of France that is now known as Occitanie.
I did indeed find a few houses that could be an option. At that stage my husband joined me, and we put down an offer on our current house in July 2014.
The house exchanged in October 2014, and I returned to France to pick up the keys and prepare the house as a rental. It needed a heating system, a ventilation system, and some other improvements. I had to connect utilities and internet, and I had to buy furniture, bedding, and kit out the kitchen. It took me five weeks to do it all. I even found our first tenants on the central square in Limoux.
The central square in Limoux with its iconic church
A Rental Journey and a New Life Chapter
From 2014 until 2017, while in Australia, we rented out the house. We marketed it as a semi-long-term holiday rental, had 20 tenants, and received 19 five-star reviews on TripAdvisor. We are still in touch with some of the tenants! As a matter of fact, our Swedish neighbours are repeat tenants—and they bought the house next door.
Our street in Limoux and view from our house.
In the meantime, we had decided to leave Australia after living there for 25 years, and we made the move in 2017. In fact, I went first, as my husband had to finish his contract. One daughter decided to move to Melbourne. The other came four months later, as she had to say goodbye in a lengthy way.
From 2017, our life has been a mix of living in Limoux, travelling, and doing house sits. Don’t think we are retired as we certainly are not. We picked up all kinds of work and in 2019 I landed my current online gig.
Finding Our Feet and Income in France
We learned that you encounter two types of expats when you move to a popular expat location: those who are retired with an overseas pension, and those who still need to create an income. We fell into the latter category and that takes creativity and a flexible approach. In the beginning, I did everything: cleaning, changeovers, gardening, painting, and photography.
The work is out there, but it may not be your ideal job from the start. The trick is to tell everybody and to check out the Facebook groups. I found enough, and then via via I found what I do now.
Life in France is good, but for some reason, France and Australia do not connect in every way. One of the flaws is that you can’t get your Australian pension in France. People have campaigned, written letters to important people but all without result. Just over the border in Spain, we can claim our Australian pension. In fact, in almost every Western European country, it’s possible—just not in France.
River Aude – peaceful scene but it flooded 3 times since we were here.
When It’s Time to Move On
So we knew that when the time comes, we would need to make a move……again. We love change, so it didn’t matter to us. We have come across some expats who didn’t realise this pension issue. Could be a bit of a problem!
Over time, we explored Spain. A house sit here and there, and many visits to my sister, who had a house near Rosas. During the last two years, the focus was more on research, and we spent six weeks around Valencia in 2024. This year we aimed for the Costa Blanca and explored that region during Spring for four months—only to find out that it was not for us.
Andalusia came on our radar, and the rest is history—and for other stories.
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.
