Seeing as we’re here to advocate life-altering decisions, we thought it would be a good idea to start with our own stories and what Skip the Country meant to us.
Mine is a classic pre-30s parachute jump. I had what women’s magazines like us to think is the Holy Grail: Job, flat, boyfriend. Everything was mapped out and I could see where I was headed. The problem was, I didn’t like it. Instead of settling into the nice groove I’d made for myself and continuing to chug forwards, I was clamoring to get out. There was a BIG experience calling to me that I just couldn’t ignore.
I had travelled a huge amount in my 20s, but I still felt there was one challenge I had yet to tackle: living abroad. I wanted to order my drinks, chat to my local shop keepers, get my hair cut, set up a bank account and buy toothpaste in a new language; I wanted to know the gems, quirks and rhythm of a city that wasn’t London; I (let’s face it) wanted to have a year-round tan, be fluent in Spanish in 2 months and be photographed in a neck-scarf, cycling with a baguette in my basket/on vespa being pursued by Gregory Peck / [insert your own generic European fantasy here].
And, all that aside, I wanted direct, easy access to jamon iberico.
I chose Madrid for a combination of the above aspirations (some of which turned out to be more realistic than others… ) and also because Rosie had been suggesting I did so over the course of the many visits I made to see her while she was blazing the trail for me. Apparently I’m extremely suggestible.
So, on April 15th 2011 I landed in Madrid with one suitcase and two job interviews lined up. And that was that.
Written by : Katie
Got a question for us? Want to share your own experiences? Drop us an email at howtoskipthecountry@gmail.com or add a comment below - we’d love to hear from you.
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