When I was 29, I moved from Argentina to Sydney on a whim, following one of my best friends. It was late 2022 and I had a one-year working holiday visa for Australia. Initially, everything was new and exciting, but the shine soon began to wear off.
In Argentina, I was a professional mezzo-soprano, but in Sydney I was racked by homesickness and working several service-industry jobs just to get by.
Eight months in, I had picked up a few local singing students. One day I was giving a private lesson in a home when my student’s flatmate heard my voice and burst into the room. “You have to meet my friend Andrew!” he said. “He’s a brilliant classical guitarist who performs a lot of Latin American music.”
Andrew and I met one Sunday morning for a coffee and walk at Bondi beach. The hours flew by as we discussed music, politics, religion and our childhoods. My English was basic, but Andrew seemed to understand exactly what I meant even when I didn’t have the words. We laughed as I taught him how to say my nickname – “Euge” – as they do back home, and which most English speakers find hard to pronounce. “Eh-ooh-he,” I said. On the cliffs overlooking the ocean, I sung a verse from Alfonsina y el Mar (Alfonsina and the Sea), a classic Argentinian song.
After Andrew dropped me home, he sent me a one-word voice message: “Eh-ooh-he.” He had pronounced it perfectly.
We began spending time together as friends. Andrew helped me move house, finesse my website and grow my teaching business. One day he asked for my help choosing clothes for a performance, and after a day of shopping together, he cooked dinner for me and his mum. The feeling of warmth and family that evening was something I hadn’t experienced since leaving Argentina.
But time was ticking on my Australian visa, and falling in love was the last complication I needed. So when Andrew broached the subject of what was happening between us, I quickly shut the conversation down.
Soon afterwards, I went to Bali on holiday. But I found myself missing Andrew and spending the days looking forward to when I could connect to the hotel wifi and message him.
When I returned to Sydney, Andrew was touring regional New South Wales. I was leaving Australia in two months and Andrew didn’t have any concerts planned for Sydney. I wanted to see him perform before I left – and I also wanted to see him.
So Andrew arranged for me to get a lift with his parents to his concert in Gloucester, more than three hours’ drive north of Sydney. I took the day off work and sat nervously in the back of his parent’s car holding a large bouquet and freshly baked banana bread, making small talk through faltering English.
When we arrived, Andrew was already at the hotel. I had planned to leave the flowers and banana bread with a note for him to find later, but there I was, standing awkwardly in front of him, my arms full of gifts that so discernibly revealed my true feelings. When I saw how ecstatic Andrew was with my gifts – and to see me – my insecurities melted away. He hugged me and I knew I never wanted to let go. He’d also bought me a gift – a scarf, because the weather was cold.
That night after the concert, we kissed for the first time.
We could no longer deny our true feelings, and the following week we filed an urgent application to extend my visa for Australia.
The first time Andrew and I performed together was on Christmas Day in front of his family. When we’d finished playing a selection of carols, Andrew’s dad called out: “Where are the Argentinian songs?”
In 2024, Andrew and I performed to more than 10,000 people on a 40-concert tour of the United States, starting with Andrew’s guitar solos and finishing with us performing some of the Argentinian songs we played that Christmas Day. The Spanish speakers in the audience love it when I change song lyrics to make them about Andrew.
We have no fixed address, but when we’re not touring, we divide our time between his family in Sydney and mine in Mendoza, Argentina. Andrew is learning Spanish so he can communicate with my family. Watching him speak with my mum and learn to make asado (South American barbecue) with my dad makes my heart sing. We don’t know what the future holds, but when we’re together, even living out of suitcases feels like home.
See here for upcoming Spanish Romance tour dates. Andrew Blanch performs with the Australian Guitar Quartet at Melbourne Recital Centre on 11 February and City Recital Hall in Sydney on 13 February
