Our Adventure to Posadas – Part 6: Between Happiness and Setbacks

The last few weeks were supposed to be very different

After months of renovations, swallowing dust, arranging permits and, above all, a lot of patience, we still have quite a way to go. And yet, it finally feels like Posada Aurora is slowly starting to become what we’ve been dreaming of for so long. And how special it was to actually experience that for the first time.

On 4 and 5 July we welcomed our very first guests to Casa Valyria.
The nerves were real.
In the end you can’t help wondering whether people will find it as beautiful as you do. Whether everything runs smoothly. Whether they feel welcome. And, honestly… more than once we secretly thought:
“Surely we haven’t forgotten something?”

Luckily, none of those nerves turned out to be necessary.

Our first guests clearly enjoyed their stay and left us a beautiful review. To others it might seem like a small moment, but for us it felt like months of hard work suddenly falling into place all at once. For the first time, people were sleeping in a place that, just over a year ago, was only a dream to us.

That was a moment where we just stood still for a while, quietly.

This is what it’s all for.

Maybe that’s also why it felt like an especially lovely start to this summer.
On 2 June I officially had my last day of work in the Netherlands. Even though we’d already been living in Spain for a while by then, this felt like the moment we truly left our old life behind.

A strange feeling.

For years I went to work happily every day, and suddenly that came to a definitive end. Of course I’m going to miss my colleagues, especially the I&K team. We went through so much together and built some lovely memories.

But luckily I won’t have to feel that absence for very long.

The first weekend of September, the whole I&K team is coming to Posada Aurora. How special is it that the people I worked with for years, I’ll no longer see in the office, but here, under the Spanish sun, welcoming them as guests instead.

Those are the moments where you really realise just how special this step actually is.

Dyango’s birthday

On a personal note too, we had something lovely to celebrate. On 13 July, Dyango turned forty. Luckily his family also lives in Spain, so we could make that day something really special together. Amid all the hustle and bustle, it was wonderful not to have to think about renovations, permits or shopping lists for a moment, and just enjoy being together.

And as if summer couldn’t have started any more beautifully, that Sunday morning we took our donkeys Sansa and Arya out for their very first walk.

They’re doing brilliantly.

Every day we get to know them a little better, and we’re building up the walks slowly. Eventually we hope our guests will be able to walk them around the property too, but for now we’re mostly just enjoying these special moments ourselves.

We came home laughing.

If we had known how that day would end…

Before we’d even started breakfast, we suddenly heard loud barking.
Without thinking, I ran towards the sound.

My first thought was immediately: Bomber.

Luckily, the dogs ran off as soon as they saw me. Whether I got there just in time or a little too late… we’ll probably never know.

Bomber was lying on the ground, helpless.
He had three large bite wounds.

Everything you’ve been busy with for weeks or months instantly fades into the background.

Renovations

Permits

Bookings

Work

None of it matters anymore.
The only thing that counts is hoping your companion survives.

Bomber was rushed to an emergency vet hospital, and thankfully, after two nights, he was able to come home to continue recovering.

We thought the worst was already behind us

But the next day everything took a turn for the worse again.
He no longer wanted to eat.
Or drink.
He barely reacted.
We were genuinely afraid of losing him.

On top of that, the first veterinary hospital didn’t give us a good feeling. When we went to pick Bomber up, his fur was full of tangles and he was lying in his own urine and faeces. That didn’t inspire much confidence.
Through Dyango’s parents’ vet, we ended up finding a university veterinary hospital, less than an hour from home.

From the moment we walked in, everything felt different.
There was a separate waiting room for cats, dogs and cats were kept completely apart, and everything was designed to cause as little stress as possible.

For the first time we felt a little hope again.
After a thorough examination, it turned out the infections in his wounds were, above all, the biggest problem.

Despite several rounds of antibiotics, the doctors couldn’t get the infections under control. Bomber was in a lot of pain, stopped eating, and grew weaker by the day.
In the end they decided to operate on his wounds again and clean them out completely from the inside.

A difficult decision.

But a necessary one.

Today, as I write this, Bomber is finally home

His feeding tube has been removed and, for the past two days, he’s thankfully been eating completely on his own again.
He’s still limping and needs to rest completely for now. He can’t jump, so for the time being he has his own room.

The nicest moment of today?

When Gaia got back from summer school, she went straight to Bomber without saying a word. She spent the rest of the afternoon quietly sitting with him in his room. That says everything about the bond between them.

On Friday we have to go back to the clinic for a check-up. So we’re not through this yet, but we’re daring to look ahead with cautious hope.

Since the attack happened on our own property, we’ve already filed a report with the Guardia Civil. The medical costs are adding up quite a bit, and both we and the Guardia Civil are still trying to track down the owners of the three dogs. We’ve also already notified the animal shelter.

On top of that, we’ve decided to close off the last open stretch of our property, so that other people’s dogs can no longer just wander onto our land in the future.

Luckily, the rest of the adventure hasn’t stood still

For the AFO we’ve resubmitted all the requested documents. The septic tanks are installed, and the certificates for the drinking water, the electrical installation and the septic tanks have also come through.

Now it’s time to wait again.

In September we’re expecting a response from the town hall, and we’ll find out what steps, if any, are still needed.

Every time we think: we’re almost there.

And every time it turns out there’s still something left.

But honestly… we’ve gotten a little used to that by now.

Meanwhile, Casa Meleys is also taking shape more and more.

The first two bedrooms are completely finished now, and over the next few weeks we hope to finish the remaining bedrooms and the bathroom too.

More and more often we walk through there and say to each other: “Can you imagine what this looked like when we first came to see it?”

The difference is almost unbelievable.

Gaia also keeps growing every week.

Throughout July she’s been going to summer school to strengthen her Spanish. Sometimes she finds it quite tough, but we notice that she understands a little more each week, and that she’s trying more and more often to start conversations herself.

Maybe they’re small steps.
But they’re steps forward.

And really, that goes for all of us.

Amid all the busyness, we also went to Córdoba Zoo with friends.
What a pleasant surprise that was.
Beautiful, spacious enclosures, plenty of shade, and everything very well maintained. If you’re ever in the area with kids, we can wholeheartedly recommend this zoo.

Looking back on the past few weeks, we realise just how close happiness and sadness can sometimes be.

One day we welcomed our first guests.

The next day we closed a chapter in the Netherlands.

We celebrated a birthday.

We walked with our donkeys.

We received our first beautiful review.

And just a few hours later, your whole world is turned completely upside down.

Maybe that’s what emigrating is.

It isn’t just the pretty photos of a pool under the Spanish sun.

It’s also the moments when you have to hold each other up, get back on your feet, and realise that, in the end, home isn’t defined by a house, but by the people — and the animals — you share it with.

No, not everything goes the way we expected. Sometimes it even feels like every step forward is followed by a new challenge.

But when we walk across the property together in the evening, watch the sun slowly disappear behind the olive trees, and realise everything that’s already changed in the past few months, we know one thing for certain.

We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

And for that, we’re grateful, every single day anew.