Nine days and counting…We can’t wait to go!!!…

In only nine days, we’ll be packing our bags, closing the door to this apartment for the last time, and heading to the Port of Barcelona to board Royal Caribbean’s Voyager of the Seas for a 47-night cruise. Just saying that out loud fills me with anticipation. This voyage has been on our minds for months, a long stretch of ocean days and new ports, the comfort of not having to cook or deal with maintenance issues for a while. And after our experience in this apartment, that thought feels like a reward in itself.

It’s hard to describe how relieved we’ll be to leave. What was meant to be a comfortable stopover in Sant Martí has turned into one challenge after another. We’ve had our share of imperfect rentals over the years, some quirky, some dated, some just missing that extra touch, but this one has tested our patience in ways few others have. It all started with the three flights of stairs, misrepresented in the listing as “only a few steps to the front door,” severely limiting my ability to get out and about.

For five long days, we were without a working toilet. Imagine the inconvenience and discomfort of that, especially when communication with the property manager felt like shouting into the void. Promises were made, repair people were scheduled and showed up late or never arrived at all, and each day ended with more frustration than the one before.

The hot water has been another intermittent luxury, flickering in and out as though controlled by mood. Some mornings, we’d stand in the bathroom waiting for the water to warm, only to give up and face a cold shower. Other days, it worked just fine, teasing us with reliability, only to disappear again. Then there’s the sink drain stopper that doesn’t work properly, and the washer-dryer combination that turns a basic chore into a daylong event. What should take a few hours stretches into an all-day affair, the kind of small annoyance that builds and builds until it starts to shape the tone of your days.

After a recent power outage, the dishwasher quit altogether, leaving us once again hand-washing dishes in a single, poorly designed sink, one without a proper drain or stopper. Washing dishes has become an act of improvisation, balancing items in a large salad bowl, one hand while trying not to splash water across the counter. The lack of basic kitchen supplies has made cooking equally exasperating. Pots without lids, dull knives, and missing utensils —those small, taken-for-granted items that make a kitchen usable were absent. We’ve managed, of course, as we always do, but it’s made even the simplest meals a chore.

We’ve written to management several times, hoping for a meaningful response, but we’ve learned that their unresponsiveness seems to be part of their approach to working with renters. It’s strange how a place can look just fine in photos, clean and bright, yet reveal so many cracks once you settle in. We’ve grown accustomed to rolling with the punches while traveling. We know that not every stay will be perfect, but this one has stretched even our well-practiced patience.

And yet, in a way, that’s what makes our upcoming cruise feel all the more thrilling. There’s something about the timing, as if this less-than-ideal chapter is closing just in time for a new adventure to begin. In nine days, we’ll step into a stateroom where everything works, where meals appear without our lifting a finger, and where the most difficult decision of the day might be choosing between participating in a trivia game or chatting with other passengers.

It’s a reminder that travel isn’t just about beautiful views and perfect accommodations. It’s about endurance, adaptability, and gratitude, even when things don’t go smoothly. Because when they finally do, and you find yourself sailing toward the horizon, you can appreciate it all the more.

Be well.