Roughly a year ago we were in Southern Spain looking at houses to buy. We saw some wrecks and some beauties too but after two weeks we'd decided that it really wasn't for us. Those white villages clinging to the hillsides are beautiful but not very practical for two urban 'young' metrosexuals (tongue firmly in cheeks mind-you). When I'm a bit stressed at work it's very easy to dream of sitting on a Spanish roof terrace with a 10 litre jug of sangria and a good book. But the holiday last year has made me realise that I wouldn't last 10 minutes. I have a very low boredom threshhold and find that the thin line between relaxation and boredom is not one I want to tiptoe along again.
So, we bought a big house in Blackpool and have never had a dull moment (and we drank sangria sitting on a blanket in the sun in the back yard last weekend).