Hey friends,

So, today we’re going to talk about that time I went to Europe (specifically Spain and Portugal) for six weeks during the summer of 2015 to write.

In the years I have been keeping up with this blog, I’m certain I have talked about this particular trip in drips and drabs. But I don’t know that I went into any true detail aside from my absolute undying love for Portugal.

But let’s talk about it.

Setting the Scene

It was 2015. I was 29 about to turn 30, and I had been writing a lot.

Like all writers, I have been writing my whole life. But when I started teaching, the amount that I was writing became less because all my creative energy went into teaching. Then add to that relationships with men who didn’t support my writing, and into a depression I slumped.

However, 2014/15 was when my writing mojo came back. I was constantly writing stories. Flash. Short. Essay. I wrote it all. I even bought myself a green marble notebook that I filled with dreams and ideas that turned into stories.

None of the stories were good, but that didn’t matter. I wanted to write. Period.

And because I had the summers off I thought, why not rent an apartment in Barcelona for the entirety of July, so I can spend the month writing?

Barcelona seemed like a good fit for this adventure because I had already spent a summer there two years prior through a study abroad program and felt comfortable getting around.

So, that was the plan. A month in my favorite place just…writing. Every day. No distractions, and if I got bored, I had my favorite city at my feet.

I started telling my friends about my plan, and they got excited about it, too. And little by little a new plan fell into place. I wouldn’t be doing this trip alone.

6 weeks: 1 month in Barcelona with my friend, Sparkle, and a visit from my friend, Sam; 8 days in Portugal with my friend, Carina; 3 days road tripping the Northwest Coast of Spain, a slow train ride along the northern border of Spain with stops in Bilboa and Logrono; 2 days in Spanish wine country to meet up with my friend, Stephanie; and back to Barcelona to head home.

It helped that all of these friends were also teachers. : )

Reality Sets In

From the get go, the trip was nothing of what I expected.

Sparkle and I rented an apartment in the Gothic Quarter, a little one bedroom on the sixth floor of a seven floor walk up.

It was Barcelona in July, which meant that every day was 95 degrees, sometimes hotter, and all the fans in the apartment were broken when we got there. The owner of the AirBnB where we were staying told us to put towels in the freezer.

And suddenly six weeks felt like a loooooooong time. I woke up from my nap the first afternoon and thought, “What have I done?”

I knew not to expect air conditioning after having already spent a summer in Spain two years prior. But the no fans were killer.

We held out until I finally broke on day 17 and bought new fans for the apartment.

I had romanticized what this trip would look like in the months leading up to it, but the reality of how it felt to be there didn’t match my expectations…initially that is.

What Happened Next

Sparkle and I wrote. She started a blog. I scribbled down stories in my notebooks that I typed out and sent to literary magazines. None of them got published by the way.

That didn’t matter though.

We’d sit in the living room (which was also my bedroom) every night with the French doors open to the breeze after sunset and write.

I wrote love stories and horror stories and personal essays. I wrote what I thought would eventually become a novel (spoiler: it didn’t).

We wrote in the park outside the Arc de Triomf and read books and ate cheese sandwiches.

There was no rhyme or reason to this unofficial/official writing retreat other than to write and to read. No writing prompts, no workshops, no set schedules or official plans. We simply wrote about whatever came to mind and talked about it.

So, that’s what we did all month when we weren’t walking around the city.

I remember feeling frustrated a lot of the time because the stories weren’t hitting that note that rings true. You know that feeling you get when you write something and you get that internal “BING!” that announces you’ve written something worthwhile?

But I kept going. And going. And going. Carrying my notebook under my arm just in case an idea came to me.

Saying Goodbye to Barcelona

Sparkle left on July 28th, a few days before me.

I planned on spending those final days getting the apartment in order for the next person who was renting it and writing before the next leg of my trip to Portugal.

It wasn’t an easy summer by any means.

A lot of the stories (both fiction and non-fiction) from that time were direct reflections of things that were happening in my life. There was a lot to work out that summer, and I guess I was trying to do that through my writing.

But when I think of my life, there is a before Barcelona and an after.

Almost ten years on, it was the trip of a lifetime that became the spark for the life I have now.

Plan Your Own Writing Retreat

If you are looking to create your own writing retreat. I have some suggestions:

1. Talk to your friends and see if they are interested in doing one with you.
2. Having a writing retreat is really about connecting with other writers and having time to write, so:
   • Rent an inexpensive place away from where you live so that you aren’t distracted by the day to day stuff
   • Carve out time the way you would for a vacation, if you are planning on staying home
3. GET TO WRITING!
   • Prior to your retreat, you can create a whole itinerary for yourself. Do you want to have writing prompts? Do you want to spend time watching episodes of MasterClass or some other workshop? Do you want to attend a virtual workshop? There’s no wrong way to do it!
   That’s it for now, friends.

Have you ever attended a writing retreat or hosted your own writing retreat before? If so, let me know about your experience in the comments!