From the city that never sleeps to one that siestas, how this life-loving culture is teaching me to slow down and savor moments.
I spent 15 years – the better part of my adult life – in Manhattan, where I was programmed to rush through everything. Rush to the train, rush to the office, rush to finish the project, rush to the yoga class, then to the happy hour. Climb the ladder, get the promotion. Life felt like a constant whirlwind of activity and excitement, with the next accomplishment just around the corner.
I still love New York and its energy; it shaped who I am and remains an essential part of my story. However, it was when I moved to Southern Spain two years ago that my eyes opened to a different way of life – one that is truly focused on the act of simply living.
For me, after years of living at full speed, life in Andalusia can be summed up in five parts:
- 1. The Rhythm of the Day
- 2. A Deep Pride in Local Ingredients
- 3. Genuine Connection
- 4. Ideal Weather and Endless Celebrations
- 5. What I Never Expected to Love
The Rhythm of the Day
How locals approach meals best demonstrates a typical Andalusian day and their way of enjoying life’s simple moments.
Breakfast: A Social Ritual
Andalusians typically eat breakfast outside of the home. It’s a social ritual, with your partner, family or friends. Breakfast here is shaped by the region’s staples. A common order is tostada con aceite – fresh, local, good bread*, toasted well, drizzled with olive oil, and topped with crushed tomatoes and iberico jamon. It’s beautifully simple, ridiculously delicious, and quickly became my favorite meal of the day. No one here orders a coffee to go, and no one is having a business breakfast meeting – a sharp contrast to my mornings in NYC. Locals are simply easing into their day as they sip their second cafe con leche, unhurried, waking up to the day’s possibilities.
*A note on the bread here – much of the bread served at restaurants and available to buy in bakeries is categorized as masa madre (mother dough). It’s exactly what it sounds like: bread from a living starter that “gives birth” to each new batch of bread. Its completely unprocessed nature is why it feels easier on the body.
Lunch: The Main Meal of the Day
Lunch is the main meal of the day and begins around 2 PM. At first, the late timing of lunch in my new home was tough for me to wrap my head around. Coming from New York – where most mornings didn’t allow time for breakfast – the idea of waiting until mid afternoon to eat felt unimaginable.
I quickly learned the key: locals here take their time to enjoy breakfast. A proper morning meal comfortably carries you to the main event of the day – lunch!
In many towns across Spain, including here in Andalusia, the lunch window shapes daily life. Shops and offices typically close from 2 to 4:30 PM, as locals head home for lunch with family. It’s far from the daily takeaway salad I was used to – lunch here is usually a full blown, multi-course, sit down meal – always with a set table and typically ending with a plate of the most flavorful fruit you will ever taste. After, there’s time for rest and relaxation before getting back to the day.
For those visiting Andalusia, a good rule of thumb is this: restaurants may open for lunch around 12:30 or 1 PM, but they won’t become lively until around 2PM. Meals are relaxed, unhurried, abundant, and often shared. It’s common to order family style – perhaps a whole grilled salt baked fish or a pan of prawn rice with several tapas style sides.
Dinner: Late, Light and All About Togetherness
Restaurants rarely open for dinner before 8:30 PM, because when lunch is from 2 to 4:30 PM, no one is eating early. Although the timing felt unusual at first, I’ve learned it fits perfectly within the slower rhythm of life here. Dinner is lighter and is as much a social activity as it is a meal – sharing tapas followed by Sobremesa – an untranslatable Spanish word that means lingering at a table after a meal, sharing conversation. Here, one can afford to go to bed late, because the following morning will start slowly.
A Deep Pride in Local Ingredients
No matter which meal of the day, the act of dining is never rushed, and always centered around local ingredients.
Food is a source of pride for Andalusians, and it’s often the topic of conversation. When I first moved here without knowing the language, someone advised me to “focus on learning Spanish words for foods – then you’ll understand most conversations.”
Every food has a home. For example, you will hear people ask, ‘Are the tomatoes from Conil?’, and if not, politely decline. The best strawberries and jamon iberico are from Huelva. Olive oil from Jaen. Bluefin tuna from Barbate, almonds from Almería, and goat cheese from the Sierra de Grazalema. The list goes on, and the incredible meals made of fresh, local ingredients to be had here are as easy to find as the next busy tapas bar.
Genuine Connection
Aside from meals, the quality of life here is reflected in how people interact.
I am always amazed watching chance encounters of locals on the streets – where they stop and genuinely talk with each other – sometimes for the course of my entire breakfast. Coming from NYC where people barely say hello, I immediately loved this part of the culture.
In general, Andalusians are known for being warm, social, and genuinely eager to chat. Much like the North–South dynamic in the United States, Spain has its own regional stereotypes: people from the North sometimes view Andalusians as more easygoing, more relaxed about time, and always ready for a celebration.
Though it can be difficult to find English speaking locals in this part of Spain, I’ve been afforded incredible kindness and patience as I type something into google translate, for which I receive a response of hand motions and voice inflections.
As an outsider, when you meet someone new, they don’t ask you what you do for a living. Instead, they ask how you’re doing, where you’re from, and if you like Andalusia (expecting a yes, as they are rightfully very proud).
I now buy my produce at a frutería, my fish at a pescadería, my meat at a carnicería, and my bread at a panadería – all small shops owned by locals, within easy walking distance – because they’re everywhere. These shop owners have become characters in my own story; when I pass them on the street, we exchange a cheerful ¡hola!, always with a warm smile and an unspoken hasta luego (“see you later”). Something I could never imagine living elsewhere.
Ideal Weather and Endless Celebrations
Due to the beautiful weather year round, life here is lived outdoors.
Some mid to late summer days can be very hot, but for the majority of the year the clear blue skies and mild, sunny weather generally shape daily life. I now welcome rainy days, because they are so few and far between.
This must be partially why Andalusia has thousands (yes, thousands – over 3,000 to be exact) of outdoor festivals throughout the year – here, it seems, there’s always something to celebrate. Every few weeks, as I’m sitting in my living room, I’ll hear the faint sound of drums in the distance. I step out onto my balcony and see a parade approaching – sometimes a small procession for a local organization, other times a centuries-old cultural tradition with a full band, people on horseback, and carts full of candy for children.
Here, celebration isn’t just for the holidays. It’s woven through every season.
What I Never Expected to Love
There are a few other aspects of living in Andalusia I never dreamed would be a normal part of my life. Now I find myself not just getting used to them, but wondering how I lived so differently just a short time ago.
Some mid to late summer days can be very hot, but for the majority of the year the clear blue skies and mild, sunny weather generally shape daily life. I now welcome rainy days, because they are so few and far between.
Some of my favorite moments now woven into my life:
Eating fruit directly from trees. Due to the climate and the value placed on agriculture, fruit is everywhere! Don’t let a local fool you though with this classic prank – the oranges from the orange tree lined streets are actually very bitter – a variety only used for making marmalade to export to the UK. Admittedly, I fell for that one.
Prioritizing Rest. Yes, Siesta actually is a real thing. After lunch, it’s common (and encouraged!) to rest, before getting back to your work day.
Hanging my clothes to dry. Because it’s so sunny and dry here, locals typically do not own dryers – everyone hangs their clothes outside – which lovingly, they are very proud of (“See – it dried in less than an hour!”). I never thought I could live without a dryer, but now, the simple act of hanging my clothes in the sun is calming and grounding, and it’s actually something I look forward to, even though it takes time out of the day.
Rarely making plans. To be honest, the New Yorker in me is still getting used to this one. Here it’s about waking up, having your breakfast and seeing where the day takes you.
The quieter sounds of daily life. Sitting in my NYC apartment, I used to hear sirens and honking. Now I hear church bells with the clatter of horse drawn carriages passing by.
Enjoying every moment. I moved here with no expectations, and have fallen completely in awe of the lack of stress, the love of life, and calming nature of this culture. My favorite expression that locals use – and you hear it often – is “Tranquila, no pasa nada” – which figuratively means, “Relax, everything is fine”. And it really is.
Carly Duarte left the rush of Manhattan for the rhythm of Andalusia, founding Casera Collections, to help others discover – and call home – this beautiful corner of Spain.