Bilbao’s tiny version of Central Park.

There are many things I mentally prepared myself for about Spain before going back—most stores close for 3 hours midday; mealtimes are much later (so always come equipped with snacks!); just because a baguette is 50 cents doesn’t mean you have to buy them all. But there are other things that I completely forgot, and have been surprised by upon return:

1. Spaniards love their small change. You have to mentally plan your spending accordingly, strategizing where you will break the 50’s that come out of the ATM–many times only large department stores and supermarkets will take them. One time in Granada, I was buying an apple from a fruit stand and handed over a one euro coin. The woman looked at me and said, “Are you sure you don’t have anything smaller?” Smaller than a euro?? Come on….

2. Bring your own toilet paper. Bilbao is regal and classy and very clean, but this rule still applies, as I remembered the hard way.

3. I forgot that the tongue is a muscle, and pronouncing words in Spanish requires different muscle strength than English. If my tongue were alive it would be a 42-year-old balding guy with a beer belly and man-boobs, incapable of walking up one flight of stairs. Luckily, with each conversation I can feel it getting more in shape. If only my arms toned up so fast.

4. Apartment living. This one is of course not unique to Spain, but since in California I always lived in either a house or a duplex, it’s new to me. You. Hear. Everything. My upstairs neighbors just love to rearrange their furniture nightly, it appears. An elderly woman I share a wall with has such a deep, rattling cough that even the most avid smoker would be inspired to quit cold turkey. In my first flat in Granada, I moved in to discover that the floor above me was being completely remodeled, meaning banging hammers and electric saws from 9–4. In my second place, the woman above me was so attached to walking in heels that she kept them on, even inside (and I can’t even last one hour in a club with them!). As a light sleeper, I’m finding that even earplugs aren’t enough. Does one adapt, or am I destined for eternal insomnia?

5. No tipping! Tax included! The prices you see are the prices you get. And you don’t spend ten minutes out at a meal with friends figuring out how to add on and divide 18% gratuity.

6. Spain may be a Catholic country in principal, but its true religion is fútbol (soccer). On game nights people swarm the bars, often wearing jerseys to show team support. You may be deep in conversation with someone over a beer, but the minute a player from the home team gets ahold of the ball, all casual chatter is forgotten, and the bar is filled with roars, cheers, or violent cursing. Making things even more lively is that Bilbao’s team only contracts players from Basque Country, so there’s an added element of regional pride.

7. And lastly: I completely forgot, and absolutely love, that on nice days around five or six, right after siesta, people flood the streets and plazas to have a coffee, a pastry, maybe a glass of wine or beer. Judging by the hordes, you might think there was some festival or outdoor concert going on–but really, the kids just got off the bus after school, the parents want them to run out some energy while they sip a coffee, and the grandparents take advantage of the many park benches to soak it all in. Spain absolutely comes to life at this time. (Whoever said Europe has an aging population should come to Bilbao–I’ve literally never seen so many kids frolicking about in one place. Many are in uniforms, fresh off the school bus. There are few things more endearing than a three-year-old in a neck tie.)

About The Author

Jenny

Jenny Marshall studied Language, Culture, and Society at the University of California Santa Barbara, and now teaches English in Spain. Here she writes about the intersection of language and culture, and lives a life translated by travel.