Why I’m Moving to Spain in My Mid‑30s to Study Gastronomy

It’s official. I’m leaving the U.S. in my mid‑30s to study Gastronomic Sciences in San Sebastián, Spain, at the Basque Culinary Center.

From the moment I first read about this English‑language master’s program (18 months, 90 ECTS) that treats food as research, culture, and innovation, I knew in my heart that it was for me. Of course, I was elated to learn all about Donostia (San Sebastián); a global food city, a living classroom, and home to GOe: Gastronomy Open Ecosystem, a new 9,000 m² hub for research and entrepreneurship opening in October 2025. I’m moving with two checked bags, a carry‑on, a personal item, and a plan to build a life rooted in meaning, sustainability, and care.

The decision I made when no one was watching

In a few weeks, (19 days at the time of this writing) I’ll step onto a one‑way flight with two suitcases and a quiet conviction I didn’t have the last time I moved to a new place at 25. This isn’t a detour; it’s a declaration. After years of grinding work, further education, trauma and healing, I’m letting the thread that’s always tugged at me finally lead. I view food as knowledge, culture, care, and change. Travel and exploration is food for the soul.

My résumé reads IT, litigation, communications, bartending, yoga teacher, and more believe it or not. Those careers taught me discipline; they also taught me how easily a life becomes a spreadsheet: tasks done, feelings deferred. Underneath the deadlines, something else kept moving. What is actually important when it’s all said and done? Maybe our knowledge and compassion for each other the most human part of us? That lead me to think about how recipes travel across generations; how a shared table can make strangers into kin; how flavors carry the memory of places we haven’t yet stood. That tug wasn’t a hobby. It was direction. Dare I say, purpose?

Healing is not flashy. It’s learning that rest is not a bribe for productivity; that curiosity is not indulgence; that integrity matters more than optics. For a long time I could only imagine surviving. Somewhere along the way, surviving became space. Space to ask better questions and to hear the answer I’d been avoiding for so long.

Why Spain, why now, why San Sebastián?

“Why Spain?” people ask, eyes bright. The real answer is simple: here, food is lived. In San Sebastián (Donostia in Basque) pintxo bars dot stone streets; markets are alive with seasonal abundance; and dinner can feel like a presentation you get to eat. It’s a small coastal city with an outsized culinary reputation. By the city’s own tourism board, San Sebastián has one of the highest concentrations of Michelin stars in the world (18 stars across leading restaurants). That matters less as a statistic and more as a signal: this place trains its attention on food.

The Basque layer deepens that focus. The region has two co‑official languages (Spanish and Euskara/Basque) and a fiercely preserved food culture shaped by land and sea. Learning here means learning with language, history, and community included.

Then there’s the weather: maritime climate, plenty of rain, a reason you’ll see real rain shells instead of umbrella theater. For a student on foot, that’s not trivial; it shapes clothing, commuting, and energy management. (My packing system is rain‑ready).

Why now? Because age is not an obstacle to learning, it’s an asset. My 20s taught me survival. My early 30s taught me resilience. My mid‑30s are teaching me courage: the courage to risk comfort for meaning.

Why this program: food as a field of study, not a side dish

I chose the Master’s in Gastronomic Sciences because it treats gastronomy as a full, rigorous field: research, culture, and innovation. Not just what’s on a plate. It’s an official university degree through Mondragon Unibertsitatea (Faculty of Gastronomic Sciences @ Basque Culinary Center), 18 months / 90 ECTS, taught in English, on site in Donostia. The program’s own hub lists 20 places…a deliberately small cohort…so learning is human‑scale and project‑based.

What moved me most was the ecosystem around the degree. BCC isn’t just a school; it’s an engine for research and entrepreneurship, now expanding into GOe: Gastronomy Open Ecosystem, a 9,000 m² facility designed by Bjarke Ingels Group. GOe opens to the public in October 2025 with an inaugural day; facilities include eight research kitchens, ten labs, a sensory analysis room, coworking, and an auditorium for 200+. This isn’t a place where ideas sit in PDFs; this is a place built to test, taste, learn, and share.

Sidebar: What is GOe?
GOe is BCC’s new hub for innovation, research, and entrepreneurship, designed to “bridge science, gastronomy, entrepreneurship, and nature.” Its mission statement: contribute to a “delicious” future (tasty, healthy, sustainable) by leveraging talent, knowledge, and innovation. (Full guide: see my GOe article.)

From IT to intuition: what changed and what didn’t

I didn’t “escape” my previous career fields; I integrated them. Systems thinking shows up in how I evaluate food supply chains. Communications training is now storycraft about agriculture, culture, and care. The skills didn’t vanish; they finally aligned.

What changed is my metric of success. I stopped asking “What’s impressive?” and started asking “What’s responsible?” I’m less interested in what bums me out, and more into stewarding knowledge, jobs, and practices that leave people and places better.

Why I Am So Excited for San Sebastian

1) Food is infrastructure here. Markets, producers, co‑ops, restaurant R&D teams, and year‑round events (like San Sebastian Gastronomika, October 6–8 in 2025) make the city a literal “living classroom.”

2) The program is official, small, and serious. An official degree; small cohort; on‑site; English‑taught; integrated with the GOe campus. The academic shape matches my learning style: project‑based, with a 5‑month final project in Year 2 that happens in the world with a company, tech center, or university.

3) The lab is the landscape. A city where even a beach walk shows you how climate, tourism, and policy intersect with food.

4) Language matters. Euskara isn’t a backdrop; it’s a living language that reflects a resilient culture.

5) The calendar is realistic. An 18‑month arc with a break between Year 1 coursework and Year 2’s project, giving me time to build relationships with hosts and collaborators.

What I expect to study (and why it matters beyond me)

Food systems & sustainability. How ingredients move, who profits, and what changes when communities lead.
Sensory & consumer research. How we test flavor, texture, and preference ethically and inclusively.
Fermentation & preservation. Not as a trend, but as technology with histories and microbiomes attached.
Culinary creativity methods. Design frameworks that translate ideas into dishes, products, and experiences.
Research literacy. Study design, statistics, and knowledge transfer so evidence can leave the lab and land with people.

This is the difference between “liking food” and working in food. It’s not a vibe, it’s a discipline (and a joyful one). It’s also a public good when we use it to improve health, equity, and environmental outcomes.

How I prepared (so you can adapt this for your own leap)

I created three tools that made this move calmer and cheaper:

1. Two‑Bag Strategy (what lives where): I mapped items by function (comfort, study, rain) and by bag (carry‑on, personal item, two checked).

2. ADHD‑friendly workflow: color‑coded packing cubes; photo inventory before zipping; a Pre‑Zip Checklist for the night before.

3. Arrival 48‑Hour kit: SIM setup, transit card, small groceries, route to school, sleep hygiene.

If you’re making a similar move, start with counts, not perfection (e.g., “7–10 tops”), make friends with fast‑dry layers, and buy full‑size toiletries in Spain rather than bringing your own pharmacy.

Download:
• Pre‑Zip Travel‑Day Checklist (PDF) Print and put on top of your carry‑on.
• Ultimate Packing Checklist (PDF/Excel) A master inventory you can sort by bag and category.

What “home” means when you’re mid‑30s and starting over

Starting over at this age is not a failure to launch. It’s a refusal to live on autopilot. I’m moving to Spain with my responsibilities, not away from them, with a body that needs sleep, a brain that needs structure, and a soul that needs fulfillment.

Healing taught me to design my life around energy and values, not just calendar invite slots. So my home in Spain won’t just be an address; it will be a set of practices: slow breakfast, language study, market walks, recipes as ethnography, work that earns rest, and boundaries that protect what I love.

Fear travels with me (and that’s okay)

What excites me most about Spain is possibility; what scares me is also possibility. Every street and person will be new. I used to interpret fear as a stop sign. Now I read it as a speed sign: slow enough to stay present; fast enough to stay in motion.

The night my acceptance letter arrived, I was both thrilled and terrified. The difference this time is that I didn’t hand fear the wheel. I packed. I booked. I chose motion.

If you’re considering your own leap (a mini‑guide)

1) Name your “why.” Write the sentence your résumé cannot.
2) Set your decision criteria. Mine were: official program, small cohort, project‑based, place‑aware, aligned jobs, language learning.
3) Price the whole move, not just tuition. Include visas, housing corridor, transit, health insurance, and “soft costs” (rain gear, SIM, deposits).
4) Design for your brain and body. If you’re neurodivergent, prioritize routines, sensory support, and recovery.
5) Disclose to yourself what scares you. You’ll be braver when the fear is named.

Resource — What this program is (and isn’t)
The BCC/Mondragon master’s is official (90 ECTS / 18 months), on‑site, listed in English, with a small class size and integration with the GOe campus. Always verify the current year’s language policy, fees, and calendar on the official pages before you commit—details change by intake.

Why this story belongs on my site (for you, not just for me)

This isn’t just “why I’m moving.” It’s the north star for everything I publish here:

• Food as knowledge (research that helps communities).

• Food as culture (Basque context, language, and tradition).

• Food as practice (recipes, markets, methods, and labs).

• Food as justice (who benefits, who decides, who gets fed).

• Food as business done better (entrepreneurship that earns its stay on Earth).

If that’s a world you want to help build, welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.

FAQs

Is San Sebastián really that serious about food?
Yes. The city’s tourism office describes San Sebastián as second in the world for Michelin stars per capita; beyond fine dining, the pintxo culture and markets make everyday eating a kind of civic practice.

What/where is GOe?
GOe: Gastronomy Open Ecosystem is BCC’s new hub in the Gros/Manteo area, designed by Bjarke Ingels Group. Facilities include eight research kitchens, a sensory lab, ten laboratories, coworking, and an auditorium; the public inauguration is October 2025. Read more about it here.

What program are you joining?
The Master’s in Gastronomic Sciences at the Faculty of Gastronomic Sciences (Basque Culinary Center), Mondragon Unibertsitatea. It’s an official master’s, 90 ECTS / 18 months, on‑site in Donostia; the program hub lists the GOe campus and English as the language.

Does language matter?
Yes. Spanish and Euskara (Basque) shape daily life and food culture. Euskara is co‑official in the Basque Autonomous Community; learning even a little changes how you experience place.

What events will you plug into?
San Sebastián hosts major gastronomy gatherings such as San Sebastian Gastronomika (October 6–8, 2025), plus BCC community programming. I’ll share notes from the field.

What I’m Thinking About

The exact moment I knew I was going was quiet: a late‑night acceptance email, a pause, a flood of fear, and then a different choice. I didn’t wait to feel ready. I chose motion.

San Sebastián is not an escape hatch. It’s a place that makes sense for who I am becoming: an artist of systems, a researcher of kitchens, a student of care. I’m moving with two suitcases and a plan; with courage I didn’t have before; with reverence for the hands that make each meal. If you’re on the edge of your own leap, I hope this piece offers both company and a map.

Have you ever felt pulled toward a new beginning, even when it scared you? What’s the boldest decision you’ve made for yourself?