by the intrepid explorer Judy Prince

Isn't it strange how we think we know what's around the next corner and when we get there it's nothing like we envisaged at all?

In the last edition of The Move, you may recall, we decided to emigrate to Spain. Like many we had our own vision and a stubborn determination to make things work. I'm proud to say that despite the inevitable setbacks along the way, we have now settled into our new way of life and feel very much at home here.

My new job, as a Villa Representative, is everything I could have wished for, and I am able to put my previously gained customer service skills to good use. However, Clive, an engineer by trade, has found the road a little tougher. Hence his first and only job as an employee lasted all of two weeks, proving the point that hand signals alone are not really enough to overcome the language barrier!

In Spain it is not always what you know but who you know. Most contacts for work are found through the local bars, and Clive has enjoyed this aspect, whilst avoiding the temptation to become an alcoholic! The bars are a stepping-stone to mixing with the locals and a place where vino tinto and tapas are particularly useful bargaining tools. Perhaps that's why the "look" out here appears to show a noticeable leaning towards the beer gut rather than the bronzed torso I had imagined. Clive's efforts did pay dividends, and he has since started up an engineering company making wrought iron security gates and shutters. Nowadays, he can be found ensconced in an industrial unit the size of an aircraft hanger that musters up memories of my days at Stansted Airport (minus the air-conditioning!).

We have also had setbacks in our efforts to find a place to live.

Three times we have put an offer in for a villa, and three times we have had to pull out. The first villa we lost for dithering; the second was taken off the market the same day we put our money on the table. The third we lost as a result of the refusal by the construction company to offer a banker's guarantee without which we would have had no insurance surety should the builders have gone bust. Despite their pleas to the contrary of "this is how it's done around here", our lawyer advised us not to take the risk.

Two other members of our family, Ribby and Betsy, our two cats, have also now joined us.

Arranging to take pets abroad can be a little confusing initially but once you have the correct information to hand it is quite straightforward - in hindsight that is! Cats, or "gatos" to all would-be linguists, have been our only major mishap. Swerving to avoid the early demise of a local gato caused my previously unblemished driving record to be left in ruins. However, it was not the cat's demise that I should have been worrying about, as the police were to lecture me on afterwards … a cat has 9 lives, we mere mortals have but one. Happily, our small household has survived the traumas of an international move, and we are settling into our new lifestyle. We continue to rent and look for a permanent home but for now our home is a spacious villa with views to die for in the vine-lands of the Jalon Valley, 20 minutes from the coast. It is nothing like I had envisaged - it's better, and we are looking forward to seeing what delights await us next 'around the corner'.

Things I like about life in Spain:

• Eating late.
• More sunbathing time.
• There is a veterinary practice on every street corner.
• Fiesta time in Moraira.
• My own personal bird choir outside my bedroom window.
• Sitting on the balcony in the evenings drinking Sangria.

Things I don't like about life in Spain:

• Washing up after eating late.
• There is a dead animal on every other street corner.
• Fiesta time in MY village.
• Bird droppings.
• Hangovers!