FROM THE BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS TO ANDALUSIA: A DIGITAL NOMAD’S GUIDE TO FINDING HOME IN RURAL SPAIN

In 2020, deep in the COVID-19 era, I did what many city dwellers only dreamed of: I packed up my life in the city and made my first move to a rural area. I used to be a total city girl, but the moment I stepped into the quiet rhythm of the countryside, something clicked. I realized that slow living, being surrounded by nature, and a deep knowing of my community weren't just a phase of my life, they were part of my new personal living style.

My journey into rurality started in Barboursville, Virginia, a small town in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains, just outside of Charlottesville. Today, I find myself living a parallel life an ocean away in Benarrabá, one of the iconic Pueblos Blancos (white villages) of Andalusia. Looking back, it’s fascinating how two completely different corners of the world are so similar at heart, while offering beautifully distinct experiences into the rural lifestyle.

The Rural Soul: Where Nature Rules and Neighbors Matter

Something I noticed whether you are in central Virginia or rural Spain, is that rural areas have a feeling of a sheer abundance of nature. Waking up to mountain views every single day and sleeping under bright stars changes your internal clock. Here in Benarrabá, Rooral coined the term “Pueblo Mode” a wink to airplane mode, where things happen at a different pace.

In both rural areas, you quickly realize your house is nested in the home of other species. You aren't just a property owner; you are a guardian of the territory. You share the land with species that have always been there and will remain there long after you pass the land to the next generation.

Breathtaking mountain overlooks, quiet summit reflections and local farm life defined my life in rural Virginia.

Incredible mountain vistas, ancient cork trees, and local orange groves in Spain's Genal Valley, where life naturally switches into 'Pueblo Mode.'

But the biggest similarity? The people.

Rooral has a beautiful slogan: "Tengo Pueblo," which translates to "I have a town." It means you have been adopted by the village. If you were wandering, here you finally belong!

I used to think I got lucky and had the absolute best neighbors in rural Virginia. Now I know it’s simply the "rural way." The sense of community in rural areas is part of their soul. In the city, it is rare to acknowledge strangers and this is not because you are a horrible human being; it is just that we all happen to be in a hurry, and life becomes enclosed in our own close bubble.

In the countryside of Spain, customs like saying "hola" when entering a shop or greeting a neighbor on the street are an ungüento para tu alma (ointment for your soul). This is the core of the human experience and the part of humanity that should be shared and preserved for generations to come.

In both of my rural experiences, people offered what they had without ever expecting anything in return, yet a beautiful cycle of unspoken reciprocity keeps the community spinning. Back in Barboursville, my neighbors would do our taxes for free, drop off stacks of wood for our fire stove, and we would all share the surplus vegetables from our gardens.

In Spain, I traded homeownership for a bedroom in a nomad coliving space, but that unspoken energy of care didn’t change. Even if I do not have a title deed, I have a pueblo. Local abuelas opened their doors to teach me the secrets behind the perfect tortilla española, gifted me hand-knit earrings, taught me how to weave the perfect trenza, and neighbors all over the town shared the bounty of their personal crops.

A big lesson rural areas have taught me is that you need to knock on doors (literally) to build a neighborly bond. I would love to elaborate more on this, maybe in another blog post.

The Differences: Siestas, Cars, and Spontaneous Parties

While the heart of these regions is similar, some of the daily logistics of living in rural Spain versus the American countryside are very different.

In Central Virginia, you usually need a car to drive up to the ridge to get those breathtaking panoramic views. In Benarrabá, you don’t need a car for that. You simply step outside your front door, look up, and soak in the stunning Genal Valley.

In the US, a grocery store was a 30-minute drive away, but being America, it was open almost all day. In Benarrabá, there are two local stores just steps away by foot, and they close strictly for siesta from 2:30 PM to 6:00 PM. In Spain, rest, recovery, and family time are prioritized over consumer convenience.

In rural Virginia, social life often required an invitation from your neighbors with clear end times, or joining specific regional groups (I joined a mushroom foraging group and a winter sauna-cold plunge group, for example) because houses are physically farther apart and it is just a different culture.

In Benarrabá, your neighbors are steps away from you, which makes it logistically easy for life to happen right on the cobblestone streets. Social gatherings are spontaneous, and if a party is planned, it goes deep into the night with no end time planned.

A Mutual Exchange: Nomad Coliving for Regenerative Tourism

Perhaps the biggest difference in my personal journey is my living setup. In Virginia, I was a traditional homeowner working remotely from my house in the forest. In Spain, I am a digital nomad experiencing coliving in rural Spain.

Because Benarrabá is nested away in the mountains (about an hour from the historic city of Ronda), the local population is primarily mayores (older adults). But through coliving, a unique ecosystem has bloomed.

The digital nomads who come here form a vibrant part of the working-age population. It takes a certain type of mentality to leave city comforts behind to immerse yourself in nature and village traditions. The remote workers who make this choice are absolute jewels (I include myself in the jewel category! :p). We are like-minded people who share values of sustainability and community.

People who come to Rooral for the rural experience are true supporters of regenerative tourism and sustainable travel. They are willing to engage in a new lifestyle. In return, the town gets new life, fresh energy, and economic support, and the village adopts us, giving us a place to truly belong.

After spending 5 weeks in rural Spain, I am incredibly grateful to say: “Tengo pueblo” for many years to come.