Problems in vacation-land

I have started my move to Barcelona. Before coming here I heard many positive reports. It's a city that's loved throughout Europe. When I accepted this job, I had several reasons behind my acceptance. The first one was the research group. The professors who hired me seemed extraordinarily talented in the same way my Cornell advisors were talented, and they also seemed kind. The second was the weather. I know Germany has over 80 million people, and the UK over 60 million, and that they have plenty of left-over talent in their respective aging populations, but I wanted a place that had summer every year, not just occasionally. The third is that I was not ready to retire at 39. I've always loved science. I know I am the default caretaker of the family, and I feel guilty for wanting more, but I want more.

I've been in Barcelona for a little over a week now. It is just as frustrating as any move and any day I am almost ready to give up. I am helped by my one year old son. My responsibility for him is what keeps me sane when dealing with pointless bureaucracy. I have not accomplished much. Andy is with me until Friday, and then he leaves. He is happy to leave. It tiring and expensive to move from hotel to hotel with a young baby. George Ira is one. He just started walking two days ago. He is adorable, but he sleeps little, and makes hadvoc in any room by pulling everything within reach to his level. The first thing one needs here is a NIE -- a kind of registration number that any person who wants to move here has to get from the police, but it's not easy to get. The university made an appointment for me for September 15. It's quite hard to get such an appointment on a resonable timescale. After that if I move from the area I might need another such number or so I am told. By then I would have had a bank account. I have not made it past step zero yet.

My salary is low enough that I cannot afford to rent with three children and make a positive income. This is common in science. They preach that they want women, but they really don't or at least they don't want the live versions of us who live and breathe and have needs. So, paradoxically the only way to make my work non-negative is to buy a house because loan rates are lower than any rent would be. The price of a ruin near Barcelona is around 100,000 Euros. So, if one buys a functional house near that price they might get a loan rate of 300 euros per month and be able to sell it for as much as they got it for. It's like getting a used car. If one buys a new car, it's price will drop by a factor of 10. For a used car, it's at most a factor of 2 if the car is kept running. We've seen a number of houses. I've made two offers. One was for a house on the beach, which was bought by another person. My offer simply helped clinch the deal. In Spain, the first person who makes an offer to the property has priority and the right to increase it until a deal is clinched. The second offer is still pending. The house is about an hour by train from work. It feels a little far, but I can't seem to do better. People judge me for wanting to take a loan and buy a house for a position that is temporary. That they put me in the position for which this seems to be the only way other than not taking the job or working from Romania, which they don't accept, is irrelevant. I also hope that the loan will work out.