If the UK taught me how to think, then living abroad in Spain teaches me how to live and be.

What do I mean by that?

Hey there, welcome (or welcome back) to my blog, which is a little corner of my journey of self-discovery.

Coming from Saigon, Vietnam, where everything operates with fast-paced energy, you rarely have time to think, let alone reflect. Moving to the UK for academic study gave me space to slow down and sharpen my analytical mind. I grew to love intellectual challenges, and for the first time, I wasn’t just relying on gut feelings or intuition. I was learning to combine both heart and mind.

Then came Spain with its “hasta mañana” lifestyle. And just like that, I began to slow down even more to enjoy the moment and take in what life has to offer.

What Makes Life in Spain So Special? The People

One of the most surprising things about living abroad in Spain is how much the little daily interactions shape your experience.

Outside of my office job, what truly fills me with gratitude are the little interactions that add flavour to my everyday life.

Running up to the castle.

Walking to the bus station.

Strolling along the beach in the quiet of the morning.

Even the staring. Yes, the staring has become part of my new normal.

People are just curious about what this Asian lady is doing here in Alicante, España. I’ve lost count of how often strangers have guessed where I’m from.

“China,”

“La chica asiática,”

“¿Koreana?”

And even “Colombiana” (probably it’s the tan, courtesy of the Alicante sun). No one ever seems to guess Vietnam, though.

One of my favourite moments is when people at the beach talk about me right in front of me, assuming I don’t understand Spanish. But that’s the beauty of it; I get to hear their unfiltered thoughts. Not that I care much. If anything, I find it amusing.

These days, I’ve started receiving more smiles. So, the stares and the smiles? I’d say they balance each other out. And honestly, I’ll take that as a win.

Running Keeps Me Going

Here’s the truth.

Even as someone known to be relentlessly positive, I’ve had my low days, especially when living abroad, alone, for an extended time.

I picked up running back in the UK, mostly to stay warm because, let’s be honest, it’s bloody freezing there. But over time, it became more than that. It became my reset button, my go-to whenever I needed to clear my head.

Running, especially while living abroad in Spain, has become one of the ways I stay mentally grounded. It’s good for my well-being and one of the best ways to explore a new city while staying in shape. The habit stuck with me; now it’s part of how I experience life here.

One of my favourite weekend rituals is running up to the Castillo de Santa Bárbara. The view at the top never gets old. One side opens to the city below, the other to the sparkling sea and a port full of sailboats and yachts.

And I’m clearly not alone. Plenty of locals make this run, too. I guess it’s just something you do when the view at the top is this rewarding. Sometimes, I pass tourists struggling up the hill, especially the ones in flip-flops. Seriously, why? Trainers all the way, friends.

The Sea: My Therapy, My Joy

Running keeps me mentally fit, but swimming heals me.

It goes back to my childhood. My dad taught me to swim by tossing me into the ocean and taking me on island tours in Nha Trang, my hometown in Vietnam.

The sea has always had a kind of healing magic for me. Whenever I face challenges or need a reset, I run to it. It helps me clear my mind and feel reborn. I’m a summer child, and the sea is part of my soul, and here in Alicante, that hasn’t ever changed.

I usually run on weekends or after work. Still, one day, I decided to mix up my routine and go for a morning run before heading to the office.

I started running past Postiguet Beach, and the atmosphere was the opposite of its usual tourist-packed chaos.

So tranquila. So clean. So calm.

A Morning I Will Always Remember

Earlier that morning, after a peaceful run, I decided to go for a swim in the sea, hoping to catch the sunrise. Postiguet Beach was calm and cinematic, almost like a painting. On one side, the sea shimmered under the early light. On the other, the Castillo de Santa Bárbara stood quietly, watching over the city as it has for centuries.

Runners passed by, sharing the space with partygoers lingering from the night before. The air was still, and the light was soft. Just beyond the horizon, the orange sun began to rise. The whole moment felt cinematic.

And then it happened.

As I stood by the shore, a Spanish señora approached me. She was in her swimsuit and kindly asked if I could help her into the water.

Of course, I said yes.

She reached for my hand gently but firmly, and we stepped into the sea together. To my surprise, the water was warm.

She told me her name was Purificación, but everyone calls her Puri or Purita. She’s in her mid-eighties, full of life and energy, and has been swimming at this beach every day for 35 years, even in December. There have been no hospital visits in all that time. The sea, she said, is her medicine.

Then, she taught me a short prayer of gratitude for the sun, the sea, and good health. When I told her my name was Trinh, which also means “purity” in Vietnamese, her face lit up.

“Ah, tú también, Purita.”

A Reminder of What Matters

On my walk home, I found myself deep in thought.

The UK sharpened my mind through higher education. It gave me structure, encouraged intellectual curiosity, and taught me how to grow, question, and challenge ideas. But Spain is teaching me something different.

Spain is softening my soul. And in the rhythm of living abroad in Spain, I’ve learned to slow down and appreciate the smallest joys. It’s teaching me to slow down and appreciate the smallest joys: a quiet morning, a kind smile, and the sound of the sea. It’s revealing the beauty of simply being, not always doing.

That life doesn’t have to be about constant movement. Sometimes, it’s enough just to be present.

Messages from Strangers

I don’t believe that encounter was a coincidence. I believe in alignment.

I believe that every person we meet carries a message, and when we’re open, we’re able to receive it. And to me, that morning, the message was clear.

That morning with Purita was a gentle but powerful reminder.

That joy can be simple. And connection doesn’t need history to feel real.

Finally, gratitude often arrives unannounced in the softest, most unexpected ways.

I went back to find Puri. This time, I met her friend, Rafael. He kindly reminded me to be careful of thieves on the beach and told me I could leave my things at their spot next time, and they’d look after everything for me. How kind!

Human Connection over Artificial Perfection

In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence (AI) and digital speed, we’re constantly reminded of what machines can do. They can process data, write code, simulate conversations, and even mimic creativity.

But what AI can’t replicate and may never replace is the warmth of a shared smile, the quiet comfort of a hand-held trust, or the unspoken joy of a real human connection.

These moments don’t scale, and they don’t need to. They live in the small, the real, and the deeply felt. That morning by the sea, and again with Rafael’s simple act of kindness, my faith in humanity felt reassured. No matter how advanced technology becomes, authentic kindness, the kind that asks for nothing in return, will always belong to us.

Your Turn

What about you? What about you? What’s a strange yet meaningful moment that stayed with you while living abroad in Spain — or anywhere in the world? I’d love to hear it.

And if my story sparked something in you or gave you a little food for thought (especially if you’re a thinker like me), then I’m thankful we crossed paths here.

Wherever you are on your journey, stay well, stay curious, stay open.

And above all, stay human.