A Morning in Árbol

I open the curtains.
Slide open the windows.
And simply take a moment to look outside.

At the neighbour’s towering pine tree.
I wonder how many hundreds of years it has been standing there.
The flowers are already in full bloom.
And in just a few weeks, the view will be breathtaking.

Between the two houses, I can see a small glimpse of the sea in the distance.

The blue-green water sparkles in the pool.
The sun reflects on the surface.
A thousand diamonds.

I have to pause for a moment.
Sometimes I still can’t believe it.

That I worked so hard for this.
And that I’m standing here now.
That dreams really can come true.

But also…

The memories of what, or who, you had to leave behind.
Or of those who chose to leave you.

I start my day with yoga.
Or manna.
Sometimes just a few simple stretches.
Or a more energetic Tabata workout.
Ab exercises. Planks.

The Árbol-green yoga mat beneath me.
As if it was always meant to be part of the scenery.

Sometimes I go jogging or for a walk.
Towards the harbour.
Between old and new Calpe.

I walk past the fish restaurants
and into the old part of town.

But my favourite place?

The small pebble beach between old and new Calpe.
A place not everyone knows about.

In the morning, I’m usually there alone.
It’s only around ten or eleven that more walkers arrive.
Locals.
The people who know where to go
for peace and magic.

I sit down.

The pebbles around my feet.
The crystal-clear blue-green water.
Almost tropical.

Just sitting.
Simply being.

Without having to do anything.

Complete peace.

Sometimes I reflect.
Sometimes I think about memories.
Sometimes there is a tear.

But most of the time…

A magical feeling.

The view is priceless.
And truly worth experiencing.

Sometimes I walk all the way to the end of the promenade.

The Ifach on my left.
Massive.
As if it rises straight out of the sea.

Lonely fishermen on my right.

And sometimes I simply stand there for a while.

Beside the Ifach.

A place that always feels like home.
And at the same time gives me so much strength.

I walk back.
Past my beach.
Back onto the promenade.

I pass Il Bocca al Lupo.
One of my favourite places.
Perhaps the most romantic Italian restaurant ever.

Especially in summer.
Sitting beneath that tree covered in thousands of little lights.
Maybe it isn’t an olive tree.
But it doesn’t matter.

It is simply… magical.

That, together with the person you love.
You don’t need anything else.

The final kilometres are the hardest.
But the view at Cala La Calalga,
just near the house,
makes everything worthwhile.

I make a latte.

Sink into my favourite chair by the pool.

Greek yoghurt.
The most delicious granola from the organic shop across the street.
Raspberries or blueberries.
Finished with acacia honey or wildflower honey.

Also from there.

The sun on my face.

Against the wall of the house, it is always warm.
As if the sun chooses that exact spot every single day.

I like to believe it does that especially for me.
But I know it does it for everyone.

My feet in the water.

Winter.
Summer.
Autumn.
Spring.

Sometimes warm.
Sometimes freezing cold, right down to my bones.

But always…

energy that starts flowing again.

It’s another day in Árbol.
And I am so grateful for that.

Here, I don’t have to do anything.
I simply sit.

No one asking anything of me.
Not even myself.