Chapter Four
S pending the last few days soaking in the energy of Madrid has been wonderful.
But despite it, there’s been a nagging thought that I can’t shake:
I didn’t come all this way just to wander aimlessly.
Although my roommates seem content to take a more relaxed approach to their travels, I need a plan. Something solid to anchor this fresh start.
Teaching English has been in the back of my mind since the moment I booked my flight. I’d spent some time researching it, making sure I ticked all of the essential criteria. It seems like a practical way to settle in Spain while also doing something meaningful; plus, it means I’ll have work experience that I can put on my CV when I return home.
After some late-night googling (and encouragement from Sofía at the hostel), I’ve booked a meeting with a large Teaching English as a Foreign Language agency. Now, as I walk toward their office, a combination of nerves and excitement twists in my stomach.
The office of the TEFL agency is nestled in a narrow street not far from Puerta del Sol. The polished brass sign on the door reads Global Connections , and as I push it open, the soft chime of a bell announces my arrival .
Inside, the space is bright and welcoming, with shelves full of books lining the walls and a cheerful receptionist who greets me with a warm smile.
“Olivia Bennett?” she asks, glancing at her schedule.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Great! Please have a seat. Carlos will be with you shortly.”
I sit in a plush chair by the window, fiddling nervously with the strap of my bag. I run my fingers through my blonde hair, trying to calm my nerves.
I don’t have to wait too long before a man who looks to be in his early forties emerges from a nearby office. He has neatly combed dark hair and glasses perched on his nose, and an overall easy demeanor.
“Olivia?” he says, extending a hand. I nod. “I’m Carlos Díaz. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I reply, shaking his hand and following him into the office.
Carlos’ office is tidy, with framed certificates on the wall and a large desk stacked neatly with papers. He gestures for me to sit across from him and offers me a glass of water.
“So,” he begins, folding his hands on the desk, “you’re interested in teaching English here in Spain?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to sound confident despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “I completed my online TEFL certification, and I’m really keen to get started.”
Carlos nods approvingly. “That’s great to hear,” he smiles. “There’s always demand for English teachers, especially from native speakers like yourself. But I have to be honest with you: Madrid is a competitive market. It’s saturated with teachers who have a lot of experience. ”
“Ah.”
“Listen; if you don’t have any flexibility whatsoever, then I’m not saying it’s impossible. But I am saying that if you’re open to exploring other options - other cities - then you’ll have better luck finding a good deal.”
“Outside Madrid?” I say. “Like where?”
I’m not necessarily fixed on Madrid, per se; I just haven’t really thought about going anywhere else.
“Well,” he says, adjusting his glasses, “where would you like to go? There’s demand all over Spain, but it’s the smaller cities and towns that are often looking for teachers.”
“I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” I say with a shrug. “I just assumed I’d be here, but I’m open to moving… well, anywhere.”
“Well, for instance, we currently have a few openings in Valencia. It’s a beautiful city. Smaller than Madrid, for sure, but it has a lot to offer. Lots of culture, a more relaxed pace of life - and beaches. Many, many beaches.”
“Valencia,” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue.
“Have you heard of it?” Carlos asks.
“Not really,” I answer honestly. “I saw it as one of the flight options, but I’ve never really looked into it.”
“Well, look - there are a few openings in the city. It’s not a bad place to live. In fact, come to think of it, there’s one job in particular that might be particularly attractive to you…”
Carlos opens one of the draws to his desk and begins thumbing through the many files.
“It’s a small school. Their English teacher is going on maternity leave, so there’s an immediate vacancy. The job comes with a stable contract, and the best part is that they help with accommodations. They have an arrangement for a very affordable apartment near the school.”
Now that does sound good.
“That sounds... great,” I say, not wanting to jump in too soon since I do have a few questions. “What kind of classes would I be teaching?”
Carlos pulls out the folder he had been looking for and flips it open on his desk.
Apparently, he was prepared.
“It’s a mix,” he explains. “It’s a secundaria, so the pupils are between twelve and sixteen. There’s also an option to pick up some adult classes in the evenings or the summer break, if you’re interested in making some extra money. The school has been working with us to successfully place English teachers for years now, and they’re excellent at supporting trainees.”
I pause, letting his words sink in.
It sounds almost too good to be true.
“How soon would I need to start?”
“Ideally within the next two weeks,” Carlos replies. “It’s a quick turnaround, but the current teacher is finishing at the end of the month, and they’d like to have some overlap for a smooth handover.”
Two weeks. It’s fast, but I’ve always been impulsive -
Or at least, I used to be.
Before I lost myself in the monotony of my old life.
And this is exactly what I was looking for - a new adventure in a new city. I might have thought that it would be in Madrid, but while the city is beautiful, I don’t necessarily have any fixed attachment to it.
“It all sounds perfect,” I say, trying to sound professional and keep the excitement out of my voice.
Carlos smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that. Let me walk you through the details.”
He spends the next twenty minutes explaining the role, the salary and benefits, the school’s expectations and the steps to finalise the contract. When we finish, Carlos hands me a fresh folder with all the necessary paperwork.
“Take some time to think about it,” he says. “But not too long.”
“Of course,” I say, standing and shaking his hand again. “Thank you so much for your time.”
“Good luck, Olivia,” he says warmly. “Whatever you decide, I’m sure you’ll do great.”
I leave the office and step back into the bustling Madrid streets, but I can’t really focus. My mind is racing.
Valencia. A fresh start that comes with both a steady job and a discounted place of my own to live.
It feels like the universe is handing me an opportunity on a silver platter, and for the first time, I feel ready to grab it.