Back in Time

A Saturday at Xaló Market

I return to the Xaló Saturday market every so often.

Sometimes I go searching for something particular. Most often, I go simply to wander along the riverside; to enjoy the music, the hum of mixed European languages, and the possibility of unexpected treasures.

In sunny February, when spring quietly breaks winter’s spell and almond trees begin to bloom, the village feels especially alive. Cyclists move through the narrow streets. Conversations flow in Spanish, Dutch, German, French, English. The market becomes a meeting place of seasons and stories.

A Gift of Time

This week my son is visiting with his friends. I asked him to find a birthday gift during our Xaló day; something I would buy for him, a small reminder of time spent together here.

I wasn’t looking for anything myself. I was simply following the young ones, enjoying their reflections, their laughter, their rhythm.

And yet.

It didn’t take long before I found myself standing before a stack of vinyl records. Ever since restoring the old record player at Blueberry Villa, these records have been quietly calling me.

Recently back in the western saddle with a new quarter gelding as a coachee, I instinctively picked up My Country – Songs, die dir Freiheit geben, with voices like Johnny Cash and Kenny Rogers.

Two euros later, “Country roads, take me home” accompanied me along the riverbank.

Treasures That Carry Stories

There is something about touching and even smelling objects from the past.

They carry lives lived.
Dreams pursued.
Time that has passed and yet lingers.

I have never felt lighter than I do now. Owning less. Needing less.

I admire the handbags I once collected. I smile at the Tiffany lamps I once searched for. Letting go has brought me closer to what truly matters.

I bought one more thing: Jules Verne’s Viaje al Centro de la Tierra in Spanish. It feels like a promise. This will be the first full book I read in my chosen language.

And then, a simple green glass jar for the stones I collect during my walks. It has been empty for a long time. Now it waits again.

The Village That Holds Stories

Our final stop was the Xaló vintage store, always worth visiting. Its owner, a photographer, once captured Finnish band Hanoi Rocks in the 1980s. The shop feels like a museum disguised as a boutique.

Whenever I bring people here, we rarely leave empty-handed. This time, my son found a shirt that felt right. Not because it was needed but because it resonated.

What Is Calling You?

During my retreats, I bring guests to this market at the end of their stay.

Before we begin wandering, I ask them to pause.

To listen.

What is calling you here?
What do you want to carry forward, not just in your bag, but into your life?

It is always meaningful to hear why they choose what they choose.

Often, the object is small. The shift behind it is not.

Choosing How We Spend Our Days

We all choose, every day, how we spend our time.

Slow markets.
Shared afternoons.
A record.
A book.
A jar waiting to be filled.

I have become ever more mindful of how I spend mine.

And if you ever feel called to wander these riverbanks, listen to what is asking to be noticed, or experience the rhythm of this valley more deeply, you are welcome to join me.

Sometimes a market is just a market.

Sometimes it is the beginning of something quieter, and more meaningful.

You can explore further here.