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.
I’m 60+, I work online (still on UK hours), and I’ve started flirting with the idea of moving to Spain. Not just more sun, coast or inland, but a different scene and the chance to get an Australian pension as that will never happen in La France! Spain, especially the Costa Blanca, kept showing up in that new vision.
While I am writing this, we have been in Spain three months and literally only scraped the surface with our research. One of the questions that keeps on hitting us is” Should we live by the coast or inland? They’re close on the map—but offer totally different vibes.
🌊 Life on the Coast: Breezes, Buzz, and Barefoot Days
There’s something instantly seductive about the coast. Just imagine early morning walks on the beach followed by a coffee with sea views. In other words a gentle buzz of life that feels just right.
In towns like Altea, Moraira, or Calpe, life flows around beach promenades, cafés, markets, and marina views. It’s easy to settle in, easy to meet people, and easy to romanticise. (Because it is romantic.)
What I like about coastal life is the walkability, the sense of community and constant ‘sea’ inspiration. If speaking Spanish is still a work in progress, English-speaking support is usually more available if you need it.
Coast or inland – what appeals more?
Being able to pop out for a beach walk on a work day, gives you that “mini-holiday” energy. Usually you’ll have quick access to restaurants, events, and social life
But here’s the catch! It will get crowded in high season and property prices and rents are higher. Many of the coastal towns feel more expat than España and supermarkets are stocked with marmite, Dutch bread rolls and German sausage.
🌄 Inland: Tranquility, Tradition, and Real Spanish Life
Then if you drive 30–40 km inland, the whole mood shifts! You find hidden villages surrounded by almond groves, terraced hills, and views that stretch for days. It’s quiet, slow, honest, Spanish and you may need some Spanish vocab.
Towns like Jalon, La Nucia and Finestrat offer a real chance to get a taster of a more authentic Spain.
What I love about it is the peace, space and the sky. You have to see the sky to believe it. There is more affordable housing with character and often more land! Sometimes a bit too much because really, what would you want with 10 hectares.
Inland you live more like the Spanish locals do, it has more seasonal living and locals still say ‘Buenes’ and mostly mean it.
But you need to be okay with having a car, in fact you’ll need one! There are fewer restaurants and fewer or no options for shopping. It could be hotter in the summer but you’ll have cooler nights and no humidity.
“Inland feels like returning to yourself. No fuss—just life, a little slower.”
So coast or inland… What’s right for me?
My gut feeling says maybe both. Considering my age, one thing stands out and that is proximity to medical help. We have learned that distance is not always the issue as a motorway allows you to do 40km in a whizz. On the other hand a town only 15 km inland could be impossible to navigate. Especially when the road is steep, windy and dangerous at night.
So we are still exploring and listening to our bodies and calendars but I’ll say this! If you want to stay connected with like minded souls and be more cushioned, the coast has your back. If you want simplify and go deeper, inland might just feel like coming home as long as it is accessible.
What about you – coast or inland?
If you’re thinking about a lifestyle reset—whether it’s a full move or just a season—maybe this is the nudge. I’ll keep sharing my journey, the wins and wobblies alike.
Next up? “Rent or Buy in Spain: What Makes Sense When You’re 60+ and Still Working?”
Follow along, ask questions and dream with me. Although this chapter is mine, it could be yours too.
After 9 weeks in Moraira and a quick stop in London, we’ve now moved to Mascarat, just north of Altea. Finding rentals was a real struggle—not because there were none available, but because of the complete lack of response from agencies, websites, and homeowners.
France has rentals figured out
In France, there’s a website that offers rentals for over a month. Homeowners register for a fee and create a listing with the house or apartment they want to rent out. It works very well, and we had our own house listed on there for years.
In Spain, there’s nothing quite like that. There are a few large agencies that handle holiday and medium-term rentals. One of them is a sluggish, frustrating machine—half the time the listings are outdated, and the other half you just don’t get a reply. The site doesn’t charge, so it seems nobody really cares.
We did come across a few other websites that claim to help with rentals, but they just redirect you to other listing sites.
Finally, a breakthrough
After a few frustrating weeks, we finally had a few responses. In the end, we found this apartment in Mascarat. We paid a deposit to secure the place, and the owner wanted a contract. She had clearly taken a standard Spanish contract and run it through a translation app. It offered lots of protection for her, and very little for us. My husband suggested some changes, which he submitted in a Word document with comments on the side.
The homeowner—originally from Lithuania and not exactly fluent in English, especially when it comes to legal jargon—nearly gave up on us. Luckily, our daughter (who is almost a lawyer!) gave us some legal advice and frowned at the contract. But we didn’t want to lose the apartment over a ‘legal dispute’.
We figured the risks were low and decided to sign it. We even dropped the contract off at the apartment, as the owners were still there. At least we could confirm it actually existed!
A decent first impression
The apartment was okay, with a lovely mountain view and literally a minute away from stunning sea views. The owners’ daughter gave us a tour and kept telling us how lucky we were to rent the apartment at such a great monthly price.
This is what is called sea glimpses……!Mountain view from our balcony in Mascarat
Strangely enough, the price was exactly the same as all the other apartments we’d looked at.
We moved in during the last weekend of March and will be here for five weeks. Our first impression was that it was neat and clean. But when I went to slide a suitcase under the bed, I quickly discovered that vacuuming is not their strong suit. Corners had clearly been skipped.
The cleaning surprise (not the good kind)
If that had been the only issue, we might’ve forgiven it. But when I went to make a cup of tea, I noticed the mugs weren’t clean. In fact, none of the crockery was clean. Every single item in the kitchen needed a good wipe-down. The tiles, the cooker, the top of the fridge, the oven, the oven dishes, the pans, even the underside of the wall cupboards—everything was greasy, stained, or sticky. We had our work cut out for us!
The most annoying part? We were charged a cleaning fee. Yet the owners clearly didn’t bother to clean the place themselves. They also have a security bond from us—which I’d very much like to see returned when we leave.
Since moving in, we’ve discovered more issues. The kettle keeps boiling non-stop. The water tank leaks. The shower is about to fall off the wall. The desk was broken. The oven seal is worn out—potentially a fire hazard, as it gets very hot. Plates and cups are chipped and cracked. Honestly, the list just goes on.
Remind me—weren’t we told how lucky we were to have found this place?
A 5 minute walk offers stunning sunrises!
To speak up or not to speak up?
We’ve cleaned it up and can live with it for now. But the question is: how do we tell the owner her apartment isn’t up to standard? My Dutch instincts would be to just tell her directly. But my ever-polite British husband prefers a more reserved approach. I’m leaving it to him… though I’d really like my cleaning fee back.
Any tips—or horror stories—about dealing with bad rentals?
After spending just over 2 months in Moraira, we had planned a week in London to catch up with family. We flew from Alicante and therefore stayed a night in a hotel. As a result we had the perfect excuse to explore the city, and honestly, we were far from disappointed.
The night life is lively and there is plenty of it
Alicante is home to over 350,000 people and consequently, we expected it to be busy and chaotic. As an illustration our attempt to find the parking garage felt like a mini road trip in itself due to the many one-way streets and unexpected detours.
We booked a cute hotel without reception in the centre of town. Entry was via a code and our key cards were tucked away in a security box. Minimal, yet fast and efficient!
First Impressions: Sunshine, Palms, and a Brisbane Flashback
Alicante greeted us with palm-lined promenades, wide streets, grand architecture and that irresistible Mediterranean warmth. Having lived in Brisbane for 17 years, we felt right at home. There’s something about warm coastal cities that just oozes relaxation, like they’re permanently on holiday mode.
Grand building along the Esplanade de España
First stop: the Explanada de España, Alicante’s pedestrian-friendly promenade. It’s famous for its 6.5 million marble floor tiles, arranged in such a way that they create the illusion of movement. A surrealist’s dream—or a mild dizziness-inducing experience, depending on how long you stare at the ground.
Explanada de España, the place to ‘paseo’
Lined with cafes and restaurants, this is the prime location for the beloved Spanish paseo—that traditional evening stroll where locals hang out, chat, and probably judge tourists who walk too fast. Additionally the promenade also hosts art displays, live music, and, as we discovered, some enormous Moreton Bay fig trees.
Santa Cruz, the old barrio showing off their flower pots
This old quarter of the city, the barrio de Santa Cruz, nestled at the foot of Santa Bárbara Castle, is a maze of narrow, winding streets, tiny colourful houses, and an elaborate display of potted plants. Some homes have become minor tourist attractions thanks to their impressive plant collections, with one enterprising local hoping to get donations to maintain her vibrant mini-jungle.
A Tapas Experience… Gone Slightly Wrong
Alicante is teeming with cafes, tapas bars, and charming squares where one can sit, sip, and snack for hours. Finding a spot was easy—choosing one was the real challenge but we finally settled on a well-established, traditional tapas bar.
An authentic cafe at the Mercado of Alicante
Our waiter, clearly unimpressed by yet another pair of tourists, assigned us the worst seats in the house. Meanwhile, several adorable little tables stood mysteriously “reserved”—for whom, we’ll never know, as they remained empty throughout our stay. The tapas and wine were expensive but tasty.
Alicante: Easy to Love, Easier to Explore
Alicante stretches gracefully along the waterfront and it is one of those cities where walking is the best way to explore. The city has mastered the art of urban planning. We found shady parks with huge fig trees and family-friendly playgrounds often conveniently next to cafes.
Alicante stretches out along the coast
It’s also one of the driest cities in Europe, with water shortages being a genuine concern. We spotted a desalination plant en route to the airport—modern problems, modern solutions.
Fun Facts We Picked Up Along the Way:
Alicante has a well-known university with over 25,000 students (read: a lively nightlife scene).
It’s home to the European Union Intellectual Property Office
Its airport is busier than Valencia’s – must be due to Benidorm!
You can hop on a ferry to the Balearic Islands or even Algeria.
A tram runs all the way to Benidorm, should you fancy a beach-hopping adventure.
The city bursts into fiery celebration during the Bonfires of Saint John, a traditional summer solstice festival.
Nearly 20% of Alicante’s population is foreign, meaning you’ll hear more than just Spanish on the streets.
Alicante, I’ll Be Back
Although we only had one day to explore, Alicante left its mark. The warmth, the energy, the effortless blend of history and modern life—it all just clicked.
I have a feeling this was just the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
One of the things I love about exploring new areas is discovering hidden gems—whether it’s a tucked-away restaurant, a cute little bar, or even a scenic cave perfect for a picnic. I’m sure most people have had such moments, and this time, we certainly did.
A Bar Full of Dutch Nostalgia
It all started when we were wandering through Moraira, looking for a nice beer after a day of exploring. We passed a strip of Dutch-style bars—plenty of those around here. The first one looked heaving, so we skipped it, only to return later when the others seemed dull in comparison.
We ended up in a lively Dutch bar, surrounded by locals belting out Dutch bar songs at the top of their lungs. It instantly transported me back to my twenties in the Netherlands, where such scenes were common and always fun. I told my husband that standing and singing on bar stools was part of the tradition, and sure enough, it wasn’t long before it happened!
The Journey to Maserof
An English woman at the bar told us about an inland place called Maserof, not far from Jalon. Intrigued, we set off on a 20-minute uphill drive through the Sierra Bernia mountains, passing a donkey farm along the way. Eventually, we arrived at a tiny hamlet discovering not one but three bustling restaurants side by side – Maserof, Verd i Vent and Casa Susi.
To our surprise, Maseroff had no electricity. Everything ran on generators, and they used old-fashioned notebooks for the bills—no tills, no internet, no mobile reception. You could make a reservation via WhatsApp, but the owners only responded once back home.
Elegant table setting
It was a Sunday afternoon, and all three restaurants were packed, serving set menus. The first, Maserof, was also a winery and museum. Its main door appeared locked, and it was hard to get a peek inside, though the sound of live music (obviously battery-powered) drifted out. The other two restaurants had inviting outdoor seating and the surrounding fields were filled with cars and campervans.
Discovering an Unforgettable Dining Experience
We decided to book a table at Maserof and returned a week later. The experience was something else. All guests began the afternoon in a beautiful outdoor area with sweeping views, sipping on ‘vino caliente’ (mulled wine). The menu price included home produced wine and mulled wine but not other drinks, making my zero beer and sparkling water the most expensive beverages we’d had in the region
Cooking with gaz
At a set time, the owner, Carolina—of English and Spanish descent—welcomed us and gave a fascinating tour of the museum and kitchen. The kitchen itself was remarkable, as everything was prepared by candlelight and cooked on gas. Among the antiques on display were original Alhambra wall tiles, a reminder of how different things were in Spain during the ‘60s and ‘70s.
Carolina shared how her British father, Peter Pateman, bought the 17th-century property in the ‘70s and began restoring it. Some original Roman structures remained intact. Today, it includes various rooms, accommodations with Napoleon-sized beds for overindulgent guests, and a museum filled with artifacts that really belong in a national collection.
Music, Food, and Unexpected Performances
The five-course meal was an event in itself. The cold starters had already been prepared, waiting to be served to about fifty guests. Some were regulars, while others, like us, were first-timers.
Exploring MaserofPrepping with candle light
The afternoon unfolded into a joyous celebration of food and music. Friendly young waiters, with limited English, served delicious home-cooked dishes. The entertainment included an 80-year-old flute player celebrating his birthday and Carolina herself, who stunned us all with a breathtaking version of Summertime. Every nationality in attendance was encouraged to sing a song from their home country. A Dutch group chose a traditional Sinterklaas tune, while we attempted Waltzing Matilda—only to realize we didn’t remember all the lyrics and, of course, had no way of looking them up online!
A Close Call with Cash
The experience was unforgettable, but it almost ended in a saga. My husband had neglected to ask about the price, and we barely had enough cash to cover the bill. With no internet or card payment options, there was no way to withdraw more. Unfortunately, this meant no tip for the hardworking staff—a bit of an embarrassing moment!
Discovering Maseroff was more than just a meal; it was an experience. A journey back in time, a lesson in history, and a reminder of the joy of unplugged, authentic moments. If you ever find yourself in Jalon, take the drive up the hills—you won’t regret it.
