Once the initial paperwork was signed and in the faithful hands of our realtors, the owners of the home asked to meet with us. We set up a meeting at the villa for the following week.

We walked through the courtyard and onto the vine covered terrace where we first saw Juan and Debra. Juan, a Spanish man in his 70s, speaks very little English. Debra, on the other hand, is a Minnesota native who fell in love with a dark-haired Spaniard and uprooted her American life to spend her days with him in the Spanish countryside.

They had lived in Casa Durillo for over 20 years, becoming its second owners after purchasing it from an Italian family who built it in the late 1960s. Over time, they lovingly renovated and updated the villa, making it their own. Debra brought a photo album to show us how the property had evolved through the years and across seasons. She pointed out images of a once-thriving garden where she grew all the ingredients for her favorite Spanish treat—gazpacho. Together, she and Juan had planted the fruit trees that now flourished in the lower orchard.

At one point, Debra looked at us and exclaimed, ‘Where have you guys been? We’ve been waiting for you!’ She told us they had always hoped to see children running around the property, a family truly enjoying it. The fact that we were fellow Americans probably helped, too.

As our time together came to an end, Juan took Chris’s hand and led him around the property, showing him how things worked and pointing out details he wanted him to know. Chris felt honored and later remarked that it was like holding his own grandfather’s hand.

When it was time to say goodbye, we embraced warmly. Juan and Debra had poured their hearts and hard work into Casa Durillo—it had been their home for many years. Our hope was to honor that legacy as we stepped into ownership.

The paperwork took a few more months to finalize. Buying property in Spain is similar to buying in the U.S.—just slower. 🙂

You put down earnest money, get a home valuation (appraisal), and schedule a survey (inspection). Then comes signing a mountain of documents (thankfully, digital signatures exist) and making the deposit. We handled most of this from our home in California, navigating it all through emails, WhatsApp messages, FaceTime, and a mix of Spanglish—or maybe Cast-lish?

For a while, we only told our family. We were still unsure if something might happen at the last minute to derail the sale. Buying a home in another country felt uncertain and unpredictable

Finally, in late October 2022, the sale was final—Casa Durillo was officially ours! The keys were handed over to our realtor, who would keep them safe until we could return. That night, Chris and I poured ourselves a glass of Spanish wine and officially renamed Casa Durillo Villa de la Luz—’Village of the Light.’ We toasted to our next great adventure, grateful for the journey that had brought us here.

None of it would have been possible without our incredible real estate team, who patiently translated and guided us through every step of the process. And, as is typical in Spain, some of them have become like familia to us.

A few months before, a buyer from the UK had placed an offer, but was struggling to secure a visa due to complications caused by Brexit. Although this posed a hurdle, Nico assured us it wouldn’t necessarily harm our chances of having our offer accepted.

He’d draw up the paperwork and get it to us that night.
We shook hands, kissed cheeks, and left the square in slight disbelief and a little buzzed.

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Greedy Americans

The next couple of weeks served as an exercise in faith and patience. While the seller loosely accepted our offer, they wanted to be fair to the potential buyer from the UK. They gave them one week to get their visa in order and move forward with the purchase, or they would move on to us.

I felt a myriad of feelings that week: excitement, fear, worry, impatience, certainty, uncertainty, and so forth. Would the other buyer come through with the visa in a Hail Mary move to win the house? Or would we intercept them at the pass? We spent that week getting our own affairs in order in case things worked out in our favor.

The week eventually came to an end with no movement on the other buyer’s end and the gauntlet passed to us.

That scene in Under The Tuscan Sun where Diane Lane steals the house from the other buyers kept running through my mind:

“You greedy Americans. You think you’re so entitled. You ruin everything!“

“A lot of us feel really badly about that.”

Wells, Audrey, director. Under the Tuscan Sun. Touchstone Pictures, 2003.

Though I’m not sure I felt so bad. Casa Durillo was OURS! Or, at least we had a chance. Ahead of us lay a mountain of obstacles but Chris and I were certain: moving forward was the next right step.

To be continued…

Casa Durillo had been on the market for over a year already and I could see why. The pictures were low quality and showed quite a bit of clutter. But it had a pool and a large property, which was rare this close to the pueblo. I knew we had to see it. I told Chris about it and we set up an appointment with the realtor for the following week.


Casa Durillo

Nothing could have prepared me for the way I felt walking onto the property for the first time. The large iron gate opened up to reveal a beautiful Spanish villa with dark wood shutters, colorful painted tiles, and white washed walls adorned by blooming bougainvilleas. It was magical.

We toured the outdoors area of the property first. The current owner had taken great care to curate a beautiful landscape complete with a variety of flowering plants, native trees, and an vast array of succulents. At the lower part of the property lay an orchard filled with trees producing oranges, almonds, olives, grapefruit and more. Nestled on one side of the orchard were two crumbling concrete benches, now uneven and leaning a little as the ground shifted over time. I love old things and this crumbling relic of the past felt like a treasure.

To say I was enamored by the property is a harsh understatement; I was in love. We toured the house next and once again, I got caught up in the magic of discovery. We followed terracotta tiles down hallways that gave way to what seemed room after room. Though over-stuffed with furniture, boxes, and years of clutter, I could see this house was a rare gem.

We walked out the front door to views of the deep blue Mediterranean sparkling in the July sun. Shaking hands with the selling realtor, we promised we'd be in touch. Once outside the gate, our realtor Nico looked at us with raised eyebrows and said, "How about we go for a beer?"

A Dream

A few nights prior to our viewing of Casa Durillo, I had a dream about a house.

Chris and I were walking around a village in a foreign country, trying to find the location of a house we wanted to buy. Upon finding it, we snuck inside as if we weren't supposed to be there. The owner and their family still lived in it so we quietly snuck around their personal belongings. At one point, the three daughters showed up. They told us that they'd leave some things for our kids to keep when they moved out. And as dreams go, in the next scene they had moved out.

I'm not sure what the dream meant. I don't think it was necessarily prophetic in nature since I often dream of houses. However, I think it may have been the catalyst to searching the listings on our friends' real estate website.

As we drove into the village to meet Nico, Chris and I talked over the possibility of putting in an offer. We were completely surprised and stunned by how much we both loved it.

But what about our plans for Portugal? We have appointments and tours already scheduled. Do we really want to buy in Mijas? Is it a good investment? Does it make sense?

Twenty minutes later, we were drinking beers while Nico rolled a cigarette.
"Well, what do we want to do?" He asked in that straightforward no-bullshit manner of his.

To be continued...