“Hi Señor Esperanza, where should I go to pick up the keys?” And with that, the saga began. We’ll call him Señor Esperanza since he likes to “hope” that things will somehow fall into place without much effort. Señor Esperanza—the agent who sold us our house in Spain—was about to put my patience to the test in ways I wasn’t quite prepared for.
For the last month, my lawyer and I have been trying to get a simple answer from Señor Esperanza about where to pick up the keys. Initially, he told us we’d get them at the notary when we signed the deed. But here’s the thing—that wasn’t the agreement.
According to our contract, we were supposed to have access to the house in November, with the final notary signing happening only after the Nota Simple was updated. (For those not in the know, the Nota Simple is a council document that states the legality of the property, reflecting any renovations that have been done. Basically, it’s pretty important.)
Luckily, since the house was unoccupied, the owners had agreed that we could move in before the final payment and official signing. So why the delay? Why was Señor Esperanza avoiding a straightforward answer?
Weeks of Silence and Rising Panic
As the weeks dragged on, I started to get worried. Every time I reached out, Señor Esperanza dodged the question, disappearing for days or even weeks between messages. Now, I know it might sound irrational, but I couldn’t shake this fear that someone would suddenly pull the rug out from under us—like we’d somehow lose the house. And with Andrew being a natural worrier, I decided not to tell him. I thought, "I’ll just keep this little stress bubble to myself and go on living in denial. Spain moves at a different pace, right? It’ll all work out."
But the silence was driving me mad. I pointed out all the contract clauses to Señor Esperanza, and he replied with, "I’ll check the contract." Days passed. I followed up. His response? “Si.” Just a single, solitary “Si.” I wanted to scream, "Si?! Really?! You think I’ve been waiting weeks for a one-word reply?" But, trying to keep it together, I waited… again.
Finally, after yet another week of silence, I asked him directly if the owners had changed their minds about letting us in early. His reply? “Oh no, I have the keys—they’re fine with it. I was just hoping to wrap everything up in one day at the notary.”
Frustration Hits a Peak
Are you kidding me? I’m moving halfway across the world in 11 days, with two cats in tow, and he was “just hoping” it could all be done in one day? I could’ve screamed. If not for the considerable language barrier, I might’ve stormed over to the agency myself. Meanwhile, our lawyer had also been chasing him down, with no luck.
At this point, my anxiety was through the roof. I’d been imagining worst-case scenarios—getting to Spain, car packed to the brim, two terrified cats, and nowhere to go. It was too much. So I did what I should’ve done earlier: I called my best friend.
Talking it through helped, but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell Andrew. He’d make it feel too real, and I just couldn’t face that.
Finally, a Breakthrough
Then, one evening at a friend’s house, I got a message from my lawyer. It read: “Great news, I’ve been in touch with Señor Esperanza. You’ll go to the office to pick up the keys, and I can be there too. Just let me know what time suits you.”
Cue the Hallelujah Chorus! I squealed with relief, nearly spilling my drink in the process. It was finally happening—this nerve-wracking wait was almost over. Suddenly, I could breathe again, and the world came back into focus.
Reflecting on the Rollercoaster
To say I was stressed is an understatement. I’d been imagining scenarios where we had nowhere to go, needing to book a last-minute place, or even breaking into our own house just to have a roof over our heads. For the past month, instead of enjoying our last days in Australia, I’d been consumed by this fear of things going wrong.
I know Spain has a reputation for being laid-back, especially when it comes to emails and communication, but this experience was more of a whirlwind than I’d anticipated. Now, with a date and time to pick up the keys, I’m hoping everything goes smoothly from here. The thought of being in a foreign country, car jam-packed, with two cats adjusting to a new life after a 24-hour flight, and no place to live… well, I just can’t bear to think about it.
But if you’re in the middle of your own move or planning one, just know that these bumps in the road are part of the journey. And hopefully, reading this helps you feel a little less alone if things don’t go exactly to plan.
As always, I’ll keep you updated. Moving abroad is a wild ride, but if nothing else, it’s full of stories worth sharing.
Adios!
Jasmine & Andrew
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