Since moving to Spain, I’ve been falling in love with the Mediterranean coast more and more each day. The Costa Blanca is truly something else: sunny, soulful, and stunning beyond words. Living here feels like being in on a secret that no one back home fully understands. And recently, I took my very first trip within Spain to a beautiful coastal city called Alicante.
Although it’s technically in the southeast, Alicante carries the easygoing charm of the south. Maybe it’s a Southern thing, but I met some of the kindest people while I was there, so warm, so welcoming. Many even spoke English fluently, which was comforting as I continued to navigate life in Spanish. And can we just take a moment to appreciate how casually people here speak three or four languages like it’s no big deal? I’m still working on my second one. So, if any kids out there are reading this, stick with Spanish class. I promise, future-you will thank you.
My friends and I arrived by bus early Friday morning, well before check-in, which gave us hours to explore. And I mean that in the best way. We walked the town slowly, sun on our shoulders, soaking in the relaxed beach-town energy that Alicante seems to radiate effortlessly.
Along the beach, we found small markets with vendors selling souvenirs, jewelry, and handmade crafts. Lately, I’ve started collecting little trinkets from each place I visit, not just as decoration, but as memory keepers. I want my future home to feel like a curated storybook of everywhere I’ve been. Another thing I’ve started doing? Sending myself postcards. Not to actually mail, but to write a quick note about the trip on the back. It’s like time-travel journaling. A way to remember not just the place, but who I was when I was there.
Alicante has that classic Mediterranean feel: restaurants lining the shore, palm trees swaying with drama, boats bobbing in the marina like they have nowhere else to be. The forecast promised sun and a perfect 75°F all weekend, and we were smug about it, especially since my own town has been living under a cloud of rain lately.
But, plot twist: a storm rolled in one afternoon out of nowhere. We hadn’t packed umbrellas (rookie move), so we ended up walking home completely soaked. And sure, we could have called a cab. But sometimes, you just have to embrace the chaos. We laughed, we yelled dramatically into the wind, and by the time we got back, it was one of those moments we knew we’d never forget.
Life’s like that. You either grumble about the rain or dance in it. I say, always choose the dance.
We didn’t cram in a long list of tourist stops, but we did manage to climb to Santa Bárbara Castle, and it didn’t disappoint. One of my favorite things about Spain is how its history isn’t locked away in glass cases; it’s living and breathing. You can touch it, walk through it. Castles aren’t a novelty here; they’re part of the landscape. Part of daily life.
In the U.S., we might call a concrete high-rise with beige carpeting a “luxury apartment.” Here? You’re casually walking into what looks like a stone fairytale fortress, and it turns out to be a dentist’s office. The architecture is bold, romantic, and full of personality. From colorful tiled facades to balconies overflowing with flowers, there’s so much charm in the everyday. It makes even running errands feel like you’re stepping into a storybook.
Speaking of charm, I bought a small coconut bowl from a local artisan with a vibrant orange tile pattern inside. Every time I use it in my kitchen, I’m transported. It’s more than a bowl, it’s a memory. A feeling. A beautiful reminder that you don’t need to buy big to bring something meaningful home.
So next time you travel, skip the cheap t-shirt and pick up something thoughtful. Something handmade. Something local. Not only will it last longer, it’ll make your space feel like a living journal of the places that shaped you.
I’ll definitely be back in Alicante. But for now, I’m holding onto the memories: the sun, the storm, the laughter, the history, and the coconut bowl.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
