Against the Odds
- Nov 3
- 4 min read
Against the Odds: How Nicci Found Her Place in Altea
When Nicci left the UK for Spain, she was chasing something more than sunshine. She wanted a life that felt lighter — one that gave her freedom to work on her own terms, to live near the sea, and to rediscover what it meant to feel at home. Altea, a coastal town on the Costa Blanca, would give her all of that eventually. But not without testing her first.
Nicci grew up in Porthcawl, a seaside town in South Wales. She studied French and Spanish at Cardiff University, spending time abroad during her degree and falling in love with Mediterranean culture. After graduating, she completed a PGCE in teaching and moved to Valencia, where she spent several years teaching at an international school. Those years gave her not only a grounding in Spanish life, but also a taste for independence — the sense that home didn’t have to be a single fixed point.
Her move to Altea came next. “I’d always loved Spain,” she said in her interview with Spend Life Travelling. “But loving somewhere on holiday and living there are two very different things.” It’s an honest reflection many expats share — a reality often glossed over in glossy brochures and Instagram posts.
Altea is known for its striking beauty and easy charm. Nestled between Benidorm and quieter coastal villages further north, it offers a balance between lively energy and peaceful daily life. Cobbled streets lead up to a hilltop church with its blue-domed roof, a familiar landmark that overlooks the Mediterranean. Whitewashed houses line the streets, cafés spill onto sunny terraces, and the promenade is made for long, unhurried walks. It’s the kind of town where it’s easy to slow down, breathe, and feel part of something steady and real.
Nicci didn’t arrive with a company transfer or retirement savings. She arrived with a teaching background, language skills, and the determination to build a new life. At first, she continued working in education, but eventually transitioned into freelance digital marketing and social media management, giving her the flexibility to work for clients back in the UK. Her income wasn’t tied to the local job market — a huge advantage — but it also meant that success depended entirely on her own efforts.
The first few months in Altea were far from effortless. Bureaucracy moved at its own pace. Opening a bank account, setting up utilities, and registering her address felt like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. Each small task took twice as long as she expected. And then there was the language barrier. “I thought my Spanish would just come naturally,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t. You have to work at it.”
So she did. She forced herself into conversations she could easily have avoided. She practised in cafés, at the pharmacy, in shops. Her Spanish wasn’t perfect, but bit by bit, her world grew wider. A place that had felt foreign started to feel more accessible.
Working remotely brought its own challenges. The romantic idea of opening a laptop by the sea didn’t always match reality. Internet connections could be unreliable, time zones tricky, and there were days when the loneliness of working alone hit hard. It’s easy to feel isolated when you’re building a life abroad, and Nicci was no exception. “There were evenings when I wondered if I’d made a mistake,” she said. That doubt is something many expats share quietly — the part that doesn’t make it into social media updates.
But Nicci didn’t let that doubt define her story. Instead of retreating, she decided to build roots. She began attending local events, joining groups where expats and locals mixed, and slowly, friendships grew. She made a point of learning how things really worked in Altea — the fiestas, the rhythms, the quirks of everyday life. “You can’t expect Spain to bend to your way of doing things,” she explained. “You have to adapt to it.”
Her turning point didn’t come from a single big moment. It came in layers — the first time she confidently sorted out paperwork on her own, the first conversation in Spanish that didn’t leave her exhausted, the day a neighbour greeted her by name. Those were the moments that quietly stitched her into the fabric of the town.
Her work life stabilised too. With routines built around her freelance schedule, she discovered a balance she’d never had back in the UK. Morning walks by the sea replaced long commutes. Afternoon meetings with clients in London happened from her sunny terrace. The flexibility that once felt daunting became her greatest asset.
Today, Nicci lives what many people dream about, but her story isn’t built on dreamlike perfection — it’s built on resilience. She didn’t just arrive and fit in. She struggled, adjusted, and learned how to truly belong. “I stopped feeling like I was on the outside looking in,” she said. “I started feeling like I lived here.”
She’s clear-eyed in her advice to others thinking about doing the same. “Moving to Spain is amazing, but it’s not magic,” she said. “You have to work at it — with the language, the culture, the lifestyle. If you push through the hard part, it’s worth it. But you can’t skip it.”
Now, she wakes to the sound of waves, walks familiar cobbled streets, and runs her freelance business on her terms. She has neighbours who know her, friends who feel like family, and a sense of peace she couldn’t quite find back home. Altea isn’t just where she lives — it’s where she belongs.
Nicci’s journey is a quiet reminder that starting over isn’t a one-time act; it’s a process. It’s made up of dozens of small, determined choices. And for those reading this with their own half-formed dream of living in Spain, her story proves something powerful: the difficult part is not the end of the dream. Often, it’s just the beginning.
Comments