From Cavan to the
Caribbean Sea.

Origin

How the house came to be

I grew up in the small town of Cavan, Ireland, but I’ve spent the best part of my life—maybe not the longest, but certainly the best part—living in a tiny home on the Caribbean Sea, a few hours south of Cancun.

The journey in between took me through Galway for university, three summers working in San Francisco, and eventually moving out there full-time in January 2016. It was in San Francisco that I learned customer service was something I could build a career from. It was also where, for the first time in my life, I experienced burnout.

I faced 12-to-14-hour days, always on call, constant KPIs, and daily graphs that had to keep going in the right direction. Combine that with busy commutes, a lack of time off, and quite simply being overwhelmed with all the new adjustments life was throwing at me.

I’d like to say I sorted it all out, lived out my American Dream, and that the tiny home is simply a vacation house for when I feel like a break from The Bay. But the real journey took a different direction—and looking back now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In August 2017, due to visa difficulties, I was denied entry to the USA after arriving at the San Francisco airport. I was devastated at the time, all my hopes and dreams seemingly dashed by an irritable immigration official.

Now, for those who haven’t had the pleasure, being rejected entry from a country requires the airline that brought you there to fly you back. Due to Wow Airlines’ schedule, I was in for a 22-hour wait, and my phone wouldn’t be returned until I was no longer on US soil. So there I sat, with just a notebook and a pen—the actual books I was reading were all on my phone.

This was the first time since my parents stopped bringing me to mass that I had to just be present with my emotions, with no distractions. I wrote, I drew, and I tried recalling places and names from memory. But mostly, I just gave in to being with my own thoughts. That airport was where I learned the value of being at peace with yourself, with no external influences.

When I got back to Ireland, I was delighted to find out that the company I worked with in San Francisco was happy to keep me on remotely. This was 2017, back when remote work really wasn’t a common thing, so I was ecstatic.

In January 2018, I got an offer that would change my life. I was invited to Mexico City to help launch a new call center, and despite knowing almost nothing about Mexico beyond the stereotypes from TV, I went.

CDMX blew me away. The traffic, the street performers, the music, the vendors shouting on every corner—it was bonkers, overwhelming, and incredible all at once. I spent two beautiful years there. However, I always remember one thing: whenever I had a long weekend, I always chose to escape the city. Nothing too exciting, just somewhere to slow down.

Scrolling through Facebook one evening in early 2020, I saw an ad for a tiny home a Canadian guy had built on the beach in Mahahual. The ad listed it for sale, with an Airbnb link for those who wanted to rent first. I looked up Mahahual, saw it was a perfect spot for beginner divers, and booked a trip for March 12th–17th, 2020.

For the history buffs among us, you’ll recognize those dates. Tom Hanks got COVID, the casinos in Las Vegas shut down, and most importantly to me, I wasn’t going to be required to return to the office in Mexico City. So, I made an offer on the tiny home where I was staying. That became La Casa Pequeña.

I knew I needed company through what was coming, and on April 2nd, 2020, I got my first dog, McNulty, from the local beach dog rescue in Mahahual.

Despite all the craziness happening across the world at that time, I knew I had found a home. I’d gone from a city of incessant artificial light and non-stop noise to the soft swaying of the sea and a sky illuminated with thousands of stars. It was exactly what I needed.

But I finally feel I’m ready to move on. I want to move back to Europe to be closer to loved ones, and to create new experiences and opportunities in my life.

So, my goal now is to leave the house in the hands of people who’ll get some of the same things I’ve received from my time here:

• — An escape from the rigor and stress of modern life.
• — A way back to nature, helping you appreciate life’s little moments.
• — Mornings waking up to birds and a sun rising over the sea.
• — Clear, dark, starry nights that signal to your body and mind it’s time to rest.

That’s why finding applicants who align with the ethos of the tiny home matters so much to me. The dream isn’t to make thousands of dollars pawning this place to the highest bidder. It’s to find people who’ll treat it with kindness and respect, so that when I have the chance to return in the future, it’ll still be the casa pequeña I fell in love with.