US Couple Returns to Miami After Two Years in Santander

Climate, Food and Schedules Drive US Couple Back to Miami

A Cuban-American woman convinced her husband to sell their Florida home, buy one in Santander and move there in 2021 on a non-lucrative visa. Two years later, the couple sold the Cantabrian property and returned to Miami. The reason was not financial: according to her account, she could not tolerate the long, grey winters of the north, the meal times, and a cuisine she describes as "fried, greasy and unhealthy."

The case, reported by CNN Travel, has peine a recurring debate: what does a foreigner really expect when they confuse a summer holiday with a life project?

Cantabria's Off-Season Climate

The first shock was meteorological. The protagonist had spent several summers in the Cantabrian region and fell in love with the environment. She did not count on the long, cold winters with many grey days and freezing winds. In her account, she complains about having to live without air conditioning and with the windows open.

Some argue that the complaint reveals a fundamental error: the climate of any city is just a click away, with average temperatures month by month. Santander, moreover, is one of the Spanish cities with the lowest thermal variation range between summer and winter, and less humidity than Miami. The problem, they point out, would not be the heat but the heating.

The idea of moving south in search of warmer weather frightened her, according to her own testimony, due to the antiestéticar of leaving the Santander home at the mercy of potential squatters. That detail, more than the thermometer, portrays the level of information with which the decision was made.

"Spanish Food Is Fried, Greasy and Unhealthy"

The gastronomic accusation is the one that stung the most. She claims everything comes with fried potatoes and seafood, and that she ended up disgusted. The counterargument is immediate: in Cantabria, stews, pots and cooked white fish abound; seafood is boiled, not fried, and salads exist on every menu. If all she found was junk food, the problem was not the offer.

The comparison with her country of origin does not help her thesis either. Miami is not exactly a sanctuary of the Mediterranean diet, and the Spanish daily set menu at bargain prices has no equivalent in Florida. The complaint, rather than a gastronomic diagnosis, seems like a problem of expectations and restaurant choice.

Schedules, Taxes and the Fine Print of Moving

The second major source of friction was the schedules. That businesses close during siesta time and do not reopen until eight or nine in the evening seemed incomprehensible to her. She admits that food is cheaper than in her country, but considers the cost of services equally expensive and complains about taxes. The price of housing did not seem attractive to her either, although she acknowledges it drops in the outskirts.

The third front was social. She describes Spanish culture as "closed," maintains that it is not easy to make friends and that nobody invites you to their house for a drink with the ease she was used to. It is a diagnosis shared by those who have been here for years: local circles are closed and friendship simmers slowly.

The Mistake of Confusing Holidays with Life Projects

The case illustrates a known pattern: the expectation that the receiving country adapts to the newcomer and not vice versa. The protagonist concludes that she feels as if she had been deceived before moving, that she was unaware of the country's "old-fashioned" ways. The question is who deceived her: the information was available before selling the house.

The anecdote has its charm. Anyone who has vacationed in the north knows that July does not resemble February. And anyone who has tried to eat a full menu at four in the afternoon in any Spanish city knows that the kitchen is closed. No master's degree in sociology is needed to anticipate this.

How many of those who dream of moving abroad have looked at anything other than summer photos?