When I participated in my university's study abroad program in Spain back in 1999, I didn't really know what to expect. 

I left behind the cold, Rochester, NY winter and headed for Europe.

It ended up being a whirlwind 5 months during which I made friends from around the world, tried to learn Spanish, studied at Antonio Nebrija University, backpacked around the country on the weekends, interned with the Spanish Socialist Party, and embarked on countless adventures. 

Needless to say, I fell in love with Spain.

After graduating, I was desperate to go back. I waited tables for a few months, saved up as much money as I could, and bought a 1-way ticket to Madrid in the fall. That was November of 2000. 

And the rest, as they say, is history.

The transition was both and easy and difficult, and I faced lots of challenges when I first arrived. I didn't know anyone and I didn't really speak Spanish, but I felt strangely at home in my new adopted city.

Reading Don Quijote and Federico Garcia Lorca in school did little to prepare me for buying groceries, asking for directions, or talking to the pharmacist. 

I had never had to look for an apartment before in my life, let alone in a different country and language.

My first apartment in Madrid was a piso patera: a normal flat where the owner builds a bunch of fake walls to divide it into teeny tiny rooms and rent them all out to earn more money. 

I rented a microscopic, windowless bedroom I had to lock with a key, lived with 11 roommates, and had to wait in line to use the bathroom. 

I remember spending my evenings in the kitchen with the 3 other young people that lived there, all of them Spanish, listening to them talk but not participating, because I could barely speak Spanish. 

One of them, Pedro, from Cuenca, treated me like his little sister. He would sleep with his bedroom door slightly ajar in case I needed anything.

Over the years, I moved more than a dozen times but I've always lived with Spaniards as I felt that would be the best way to integrate into society, learn the language, and understand the customs. 

I've had roommates from Galicia to the Basque Country and from Córdoba to Cuenca, and many of them—Javi, Josu, Erika, Ruben, Pilar—went on to become close friends. 

They taught me street Spanish, introduced me to their friends and families, showed me their hometowns, helped me get jobs, fed me everything from marmitako to rabbit paella, and perhaps most importantly, they always made me feel at home. It has truly been an eye-opening, positive experience. 

I made a friend when I first arrived—Victor, from Mexico—whose lawyer informed him that he government had issued an amnesty, where any foreigner who arrived before a certain date, could prove it, and had a job, was eligible for legal residence.

I applied under that provision and, after a few years, I finally received the letter that I was officially a legal resident.

I've worked a wide variety of jobs, from serving English breakfasts and handing out flyers in Ibiza to selling advertising and teaching English.

Eventually I moved into communications and translation and have been working in those fields ever since. 

I bought an apartment in 2010, and a few years later I welcomed my two kids. We live in Madrid just outside the city center.

I created this site as a way to share my love and passion for my adopted country for over 20 years.

My sincere hope is to share what I know so that you—no matter if you're just visiting or planning to move here—can also fall in love with Spain, just like I did.

Spain has a unique history, beautiful architecture, amazing food and wine, and stunning landscapes. It has incredible culture and wonderful weather.

It has a slower pace of life and a greater focus on relationships as opposed to "things." 

And I would also argue that one of the best parts of Spain is Spanish people as they are, in general, warm, welcoming, and open-minded.

Now that you know a little more about me and my story, let me show you around the country.

After all, Spain Awaits!