I accidentally went to rehab
If you couldn’t tell by now, I love a dramatic blog title. Hence, I accidentally went to rehab. But, before you click out of here and decide, “damn, Tara has really lost it this time,” let me explain.
A few weeks ago, I spent a few days in the small town of Coo in Los Corrales de Buelna, which is in the providence of Cantabria right on the northern coast of Spain (sorry for sounding like the most annoying study abroad bitch ever). Looking for a quiet weekend away, I booked an Airbnb stay at a mountain cottage and farm. My friend/roommate/abroad adventure buddy Isabelle and I rented a car and decided to make it a little road trip! About a half hour into the drive- I’m in the passenger seat- (obvi), and I’m on my phone seeing what’s around the area, and I’m like, “hmmm… this is weird…it says where we’re going for our Airbnb is a rehab facility…hahaha…so weird right…hahaha…wait.” So, me and Isabelle went to rehab. And let me tell you, we had a grand time.
Now that I got you here with my sensationalized intro, no, Isabelle and I did not receive any rehab treatment (lol), but we did have a lovely and tranquil weekend that put some things into perspective for me. It turns out the Airbnb we booked was actually a cottage belonging to an old couple who use their property as a rehab facility and, in between treatment groups, rent out rooms. We were a bit apprehensive as 1) we did not realize the Airbnb we booked was also a rehab, and 2) we did not realize the couple owning the cottage would also be on the property with us. Nevertheless, we proceeded on our way, unaware of what the weekend would bring. After navigating our little rental car up the side of a literal mountain, following homemade signs and an unpaved road, we arrived at our stay. We were immediately greeted by two big sweethearts of dogs (always a good sign) and the cottage owners.
The owners of the property ended up being one of the highlights of the weekend. Not only do they live in a gorgeous cottage on a mountainside on the coast of Spain, where cows and horses range free, and everyone in town knows one another, but they have also devoted their lives to helping others. Talking with them over breakfast (they make their own bread btw) (like you’ve got to be kidding) I was able to hear about their mutual passion for helping those who struggle with substance abuse and how their work has fulfilled them. I was able to share that I am about two and a half years sober (proud moment) and am studying psychology in hopes of working to help people in a similar way when I am older.
On Sunday morning, before we departed, I woke up early- which doesn’t happen often- and I sat on the covered patio in my nightgown, listening to the rain and watching the early morning happenings of the countryside. While sitting there, I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, these people have it figured out.” The idea of returning home and getting swept up in the mundane dramas of everyday life and the world’s craziness was dreadful after such an idyllic respite from it all.
The drive home was quiet and melancholic, as if Isabelle and I both knew we were leaving a special place with special people we probably wouldn’t see again. Sitting in the passenger seat and watching the big green rolling hills unfold around me, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just the stunning scenery or the cozy cottage that made the weekend unforgettable—it was the peace I found in a place I never expected to find it. A place where life felt slower and simpler, and the only expectation was to be present. The couple’s commitment to healing, to helping others transform their lives, was a quiet reminder that real growth doesn’t always happen in the loud, flashy moments. Sometimes, the most profound changes occur in the quiet, unassuming spaces.
As Isabelle and I drove back toward the hustle of our everyday lives, I reflected on the weekend in a way I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just a getaway or an adventure; it was a reminder to take a step back, to slow down.
I’m not sure I’ll ever find a place like that cottage again, or the chance to chat with such wise, warm-hearted people, but what I know for sure is that sometimes life has a way of leading you exactly where you need to be—even if it’s through a small, unplanned detour.
