For those who are just discovering me….welcome! My husband and I currently live in Limoux, southern France, but we are in the process of making a move to Spain. In fact, we are buying a house in Andalusia.
It all began in mid-May when my sister spotted a listing of a house near the stunning white village of Cómpeta. The plan is to buy the property together, and since she had more flexibility timewise, she flew to Málaga to check it out.
From four months visiting and researching the Costa Blanca, we were already well aware that buying in Spain is rarely straightforward. And surprise, surprise, we’ve had more than a few issues. So many, in fact, that we still haven’t signed the main purchase contract or paid the standard 10% deposit.
We did sign a reservation contract, which required a small deposit to take the house off the market. Thankfully, we hired a lawyer from the start, which turned out to be one of our better decisions. We have since uncovered things we didn’t even know we should be looking for.
What’s a DAFO, and Why Does It Matter?
Looking back, it seems even the current owner wasn’t aware of some of the issues. He bought the property in May 2025 through a forced bank sale, which often means a good deal, but sometimes comes with surprises.
In the autumn, he began a few formalities with the local council, including starting a DAFO process or so we were told. For anyone unfamiliar, a DAFO is a certificate confirming a rural property’s legal status, protecting it from fines or even demolition.
As it turns out, there was no DAFO process underway. Our lawyer did some digging and found that the process hadn’t even been initiated. It was the local technical architect who took the initiative, inspected the property, and came up with a list of requirements to obtain the DAFO.
It’s a fairly long list but luckily, we already knew (and accepted) over half of the needed improvements.
Buying a House in Andalusia Comes with Surprises
What we didn’t know? That we wouldn’t be able to get a water supply until the DAFO is approved. Bit of a red flag, especially since we will need water to do renovations. A proper Catch-22.
On top of that, the current septic tank doesn’t meet modern standards, and despite there being power sockets throughout the house, we apparently don’t have an electricity supply either. Yep, it is starting to sound like an off-grid project.
Still undeterred, we asked our lawyer to relay all this to the seller and get his perspective. After much back-and-forth, we’ve come to an agreement, albeit an unconventional one.
Aerial shot of the house we are chasing
An Unusual Agreement, and a Glimmer of Hope
The seller has agreed to:
Install a new septic tank and cover half the cost.
Get electricity connected.
Somehow, don’t ask us how, arrange a temporary water supply from the neighbour. (Are they old mates? Did he bribe them with olive oil? Who knows!)
On top of that, he’s willing to leave a significant sum, probably close to 20% of the purchase price, in an escrow account with our lawyer. If we don’t manage to secure the DAFO within a year, we will get that money back. Fair enough, considering we might be facing some extra costs.
Confused? Complicated? We are too! You might even be wondering why we’re going through with it at all…
Honestly, I’m just incredibly relieved we hired a lawyer—because there’s more to this story. But that’s for another time.
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.
This week, I visited Benidorm, a place that was never even close to making my travel wish list. But when you’re staying nearby and you’d like to form an actual opinion—not just repeat what others say—you kind of have to do it!
Yes, really….Benidorm.
The ever changing skyline of Albir, Benidorm and Altea.
We’re currently staying near Altea, and from where we are, Benidorm’s high-rise skyline is clearly visible on the horizon. It actually reminds me a bit of the Gold Coast in Australia which we have seen plenty of times when our kids grew up. I have taken a few photos of that skyline, and it genuinely seems to change every time we look at it—light, weather, mood—it’s always a little different.
After three weeks of watching it from afar, we finally decided to take a closer look. It was Good Friday—always a bit of a wildcard when it comes to outings. But the drive in turned out to be less hectic than expected. Honestly, we expected a slow procession of cars heading for the center, but this time, it was smooth sailing.
A Few Quick Facts About Benidorm:
It has a population of just under 75 k.
In summer, that number skyrockets to over 400k—possibly to levels best described as “bursting at the seams.”
Facilities? Let’s just say, if you need it, Benidorm probably has it.
First impressions
As we approached the town, our first impression was that it looked like a typical Spanish city. You don’t immediately see the towering high-rises unless you catch a glimpse down one of the side streets. We managed to park in a covered garage quite close to the center—plenty of spaces and no stress.
From there, we strolled towards the beach, aiming to find the “old town” that several people had recommended. We wandered through a few lively streets, passed numerous shops and cafés, and eventually arrived at the beachfront. But somewhere along the way, we seemed to have missed what we thought would be a quaint, historic district.
Where is the old town?
It’s possible that we expected something similar to Altea’s old town, with cobbled lanes, flower-draped balconies, and a certain charm. What we found was more of a bustling commercial hub—restaurants, pubs, souvenir shops, and everything in between. It certainly caters to the crowds, which, judging by the numbers, it handles with ease.
Peace and quiet! Not on this beach…..
And speaking of crowds… the beach was absolutely packed. It honestly reminded me of Bondi Beach in Sydney on Christmas Day which we experienced before having kids. The weather was glorious, and clearly, everyone had the same idea.
We continued exploring and discovered another bay just around the headland—again, wall-to-wall sunseekers. In between is a lovely lookout point, a mirador built on the site of what was once a castle. It offered stunning views of the coast either way and was clearly a popular photo stop.
El Mirador de Benidorm – one of the city’s landmarksLooking south towards Alicante
Benidorm’s shopping streets are extensive, with a mix of local and international brands. And like Alicante, it has ‘eat streets’—entire stretches where one restaurant follows another. While exploring those, we noticed something interesting: tapas and pintxo bars were mostly filled with locals and Spanish holidaymakers, while the establishments serving fry-ups, burgers, and pizzas had a distinctly North European clientele.
Benidorm – final thoughts!
We spent a few hours in Benidorm and came away slightly surprised—and a little amused—by our experience. Would I choose to holiday there? No, not really. But oddly enough, I wouldn’t mind spending some time there under the right circumstances.
This could entice me for another visit!!
Here’s why:
In the city center, you’re not really aware of the skyscrapers or the overcrowded beaches.
If you find the local spots, you’re surrounded by Spanish speakers and tasty spanish food, not sunburnt tourists on a mission.
And if you look past the obvious tourist zones, it starts to feel like a regular Spanish town—one where people live, work, and go about their day.
One thing to be clear about: we visited during Easter. I’m not sure I’d be quite as relaxed about the idea if it were peak summer.
Would I return in July or August to find out? Let’s just say—I’m quite happy not knowing.
🧐 Handy Tip: If you’re driving in, aim for the parking garages near the center—they’re easier and less stressful than circling endlessly in the heat.
