As I sit on the bus on the way back to Sevilla, with my son peacefully asleep on my lap, I can’t help but wonder if I’m living in the wrong place.
Should I really be in a city which becomes so suffocating, with no sea breeze, and brings such intense summer months? Do I really want to have to endure such extreme conditions every year during July and August?
After the worst August of my life, I’m so glad we got away. Having to go through such suffering while my wife caught that damn pneumonia has changed my outlook on life.
Life is too short, don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.
So, maybe I should be getting a bus straight back to Rota.
Only I can’t.
My life, house and job are in Sevilla…for the moment.
I do love Sevilla. I fact, only today I was there with my family and we had a fantastic day out: exploring yet again Parque de los Principes, having tapas in Triana, walking by the River Guadalquivir, coffee opposite Alfonso 13, and messing about in the Jardines de Murillo. It was a perfect end to a disastrous summer break.
I would love to live in Rota, but I’d feel like a traitor to Sevilla, the city which has provided me with such happiness, a wife, a life, and two wonderful kids.
But will I stay there forever?
I dream of becoming a professional writer. Having enough time to focus on writing all the blogs, articles, and novels that buzz about my mind all day.
But I have a mortgage to pay, mouths to feed, and until I get that book deal, or become a bestselling author, I have to keep my head down and plough on.
But when my time comes, I’d love to think I could buy a house in Rota.
My dream would be to have a place looking out over the sea. I’d wake early and go for a run, or a swim, or to the gym, or maybe all three. Once home, I’d have breakfast with my wife and kids and drop them to school (not my wife, she is far too old for school now). Then I’d go home, sit at my desk overlooking the sea, and crack on with my novel, until I pick up my kids again.
We’d have lunch on the patio, or in the garden, and chat about their school day. Then I’d help with their homework, take them to football practice, or dance classes, or whatever they choose. After we’d stroll by the beach, or take the dog for a walk together.
Then we’d have dinner, unless I was out watching Rota v Real Madrid or something. We’d chat about the day, have a laugh, and I’d read them bedtime stories, until they are old enough to read me one.
Then once they were back in bed, I’d get back to the writing, or reading, or just chilling with my wife chatting about life while sipping on chilled Rioja.
Weekends would be spent on the beach, fishing, eating out, meeting friends, going to strange birthday parties, or driving about some unknown place in Andalusia.
At Rota I feel relaxed, and inspired. I love it there, more than I do here. So why not just go there now?
One day, while I walked about as my kids and wife had a siesta, I thought up a short story; something I haven’t done for ages. It was about an American military dude who fell in love with a Spanish girl working at an ice cream parlour. It had something to do with the ‘kissing corner’ at the end of Rota beach. I guess it needs a bit of work, but it was so refreshing walking somewhere new and letting my imagination open up and go with the flow.
My desire to become a professional write is a dream, but you have to have dreams, and Rota is a place that inspires my dreams.
This year I didn’t think we were going to make it there, but I’m so glad we did, and I can’t wait to go back.
Life just isn’t that simple anymore though. I can’t just give up my job, our house, and run off to a summer beach town to pursue my dream, or can I? Could I really give it all up here and go and live in Rota?
As much as I love the place, I’m sure things would start to annoy me. Once the bad weather sets in, Rota must be pretty miserable; the wind has to be terribly bitter. What would happen when everyone returned to their normal lives and went back to Sevilla, or the other cities where they live and work?
When I consider living in Rota, I worry that my kids wouldn’t getting the best education. I’m sure the schools and education aren’t at such a high level as in Seville. Maybe I’m wrong. Does it really matter? Is it the teacher, parents or student who really determines the student’s future?
Plus, what about the opportunities for my kids when they grow up; there’s no university, there must be a lack of jobs, and in the end they’d get bored of Rota, and seek freedom in another place so they can spread their wings.
So, as much as I’d love to set up my desk in Rota, for the moment I’ll keep on as I am, teaching English, writing my novels, blogs, and articles, and living in Seville, until I get that lucky break.