
You'll sort the visa. The bank account will eventually open. The padrón will get done. The bureaucracy has an end, even when it doesn't feel like it.
But three months in, sitting on a terrace with good weather and a nice coffee, you might realize something's missing. You know people. You don't have people.
The acquaintances from the coworking space. The other parents at school drop-off. The couple you met at that one dinner party. Everyone's friendly. Nothing goes deeper.
Six months in, you're lonely in a way you weren't expecting, in a place that's supposed to make everything better.This is normal. And it passes — but not automatically.
The 6-month friendship curve
There's research on this (Dr. Jeffrey Hall, University of Kansas): becoming close friends with someone takes roughly 200 hours of time together. Not meeting time — actual time. Shared experiences. Repeated interaction.
At home, you accumulated those hours without thinking. The colleague you grabbed lunch with twice a week for three years. The neighbor you saw at the school gates for a decade. The gym friend who became a real friend over hundreds of morning sessions.
You didn't start from zero there. You start from zero here.
That's why the first six months feel hollow. You're meeting lots of people, but no single relationship has accumulated enough hours to feel like actual friendship. Everyone's at 15 hours, not 150.
The good news: if you show up consistently to the same places with the same people, the hours accumulate. By month 9 or 12, you'll have a handful of real connections. But you have to stay long enough, and you have to keep showing up.
If your partner's job brought you here — or if you're self-employed and your partner isn't working — the social gap hits unevenly.
The working partner has built-in social interaction: colleagues, clients, the rhythm of work conversation. The non-working partner has... the apartment. The coffee shop. The school run that lasts fifteen minutes.
This is the trailing spouse phenomenon, and it's real enough that expat psychologists study it. The person who didn't choose the move, or who chose it for love not logistics, often struggles more with isolation.
What helps:
Name it. Acknowledge that the social load isn't distributed evenly, and it's not a personal failing.
Budget time for the trailing partner's integration. Classes, sports, volunteer work — things with regular, repeated social contact.
Don't assume it will fix itself. Passive waiting extends the lonely period.
You'll hear warnings about the "expat bubble" — socializing only with other foreigners, never integrating, living in an English-language parallel universe.
Here's the thing: the bubble exists for a reason. When you're building a life in a new place, you need some easy wins. People who understand your references. Who've gone through the same gestoría — tax agency — frustrations. Who don't require you to translate yourself constantly.
Early on, the bubble is scaffolding. It holds things up while you build something sturdier.
The problem is when scaffolding becomes the structure. If, two years in, every friend speaks English, you've never been to a local's home, and your Spanish hasn't improved since month three — that's a different situation.
The balance: Use the expat community for easy connection and practical support. But add at least one activity where you're the only foreigner. A local gym class. A Spanish-language intercambio — language exchange. Padel with Spaniards.
You don't need to leave the bubble entirely. You need windows in it.
Padel — the tennis-squash hybrid that Spain is obsessed with — is the single best social investment you can make here. Here's why:
It's pair-based: you need a partner, which means you're connected to at least one person.
Sessions are short (1-1.5 hours) and regular (weekly works well).
Groups form organically: "we need a fourth" becomes "we need the same fourth every week."
Skill matters less than showing up. Beginners can play with intermediate players without ruining the game.
It's everywhere. Every town has courts. Clubs organize groups by level.
Within three months of regular padel, you'll have accumulated 30+ hours with the same small group of people. That's real progress toward actual friendship.
A coworking space solves the isolation of remote work, but only if you engage beyond the desk.
Attend the after-work events (many spaces host drinks, dinners, workshops)
Eat lunch in the common area, not at your desk
Join the WhatsApp group
Say yes to the random coffee invites
The workspace itself is just proximity. The relationships come from everything around it.
Coworking spaces on the Costa del Sol: La Playa (Málaga), Talent Garden (Málaga), The Living Room (Marbella), One Business Center (Marbella).
The Costa del Sol's backyard is mountains. And hiking groups exist for every level, from casual Sunday strolls to serious multi-hour treks.
WhatsApp groups coordinate weekly hikes
Many are bilingual or Spanish-only (good for language practice)
Hours of walking = hours of conversation = friend-making conditions
Facebook: "Senderismo Málaga," "Hiking Andalucía," local grupos de senderismo
Volunteering in Spain often requires some Spanish, which is a feature not a bug — it forces language practice in a low-pressure context.
Options: animal shelters (protectoras), beach cleanups, food banks (banco de alimentos), English teaching for Spanish kids, elderly companionship programs.
You'll meet Spaniards, you'll have purpose, you'll feel like you belong to something local.
The informal network of remote workers cycling through the same cafes. There's a rhythm: the same faces at the same places around the same times.
Acknowledge them. Ask what they do. Suggest a walk. These semi-strangers become friends faster than you'd expect, because you're both in the same liminal position — transplants building a life.
The seasonal friendship trap
The Costa del Sol is transient. People arrive in October and leave in April. Or they're here for a year and then they're somewhere else.
This creates a pattern: you invest in someone for four months, they leave, and you're back to zero. It's demoralizing.
The filter: Early on, ask people about their timeline. Are they here long-term or passing through? There's nothing wrong with enjoying transient friendships, but if you're seeking stable community, prioritize people who are rooted.
The locals: Spanish friends don't leave. They're here because this is home. A Spanish social network is less convenient initially (language barrier, cultural differences) but more durable. Invest accordingly.
You can build a social life without Spanish. Many people do. But the ceiling is lower.
Without Spanish:
Expat-heavy activities only
Surface-level interaction with locals
Always needing translation or English-speakers
Feeling like a visitor, even years in
With conversational Spanish:
Access to Spanish-only activities (and therefore Spanish friends)
Deeper connection with the place
Practical independence (calls, appointments, small talk)
Feeling like you belong here
You don't need fluency. B1 level — comfortable in everyday situations — changes everything. That takes roughly 600 hours of study/practice. One hour daily for two years. Not nothing, but doable.
Loneliness in the first year isn't failure — it's the natural cost of starting over. The friendships you had at home took years to build. The friendships here will take time too, just compressed into a more conscious effort.
The formula: Show up to the same places, with the same people, repeatedly. Padel, hiking, coworking events, the local cafe. Accumulate hours. Don't expect depth at 30 hours that only comes at 150.
It gets better around month nine. It feels settled around month eighteen. By year three, you'll have people — real ones, not just acquaintances — and you'll forget how hard the beginning was.
But you have to stay long enough. And you have to keep showing up.
Ánimo. — Courage. You've got this.— A
Last updated: January 2026
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