I arrived in Madrid with a beat-up carry-on, a used phone, and the kind of curiosity that only grows when you step off a plane in a country that feels like the edge of something new. I was walking along Gran Vía when I saw the familiar green and white of Cash Converters. I knew the name, but I’d never walked in. This time, I had a reason.
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In my backpack sat an old DSLR camera I hadn’t touched since Lisbon. My tablet, still functional but too sluggish to be of real use, was just dead weight. The moment I stepped inside the store, I saw it wasn’t just about buying and selling—it was about movement. People bringing in what they no longer needed. People picking up what they now did.
Within 20 minutes, I had cash in my hand from selling that tablet. The process was quick, the team professional, and the evaluation fair. I used the money to book a flamenco night in La Latina and a spontaneous tapas tour in Malasaña. That was the first transaction, but it wouldn’t be the last.
Walking the Streets of Seville, Letting Go of More
In Seville, the streets felt like living poetry—tiles worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, Moorish arches throwing dappled shadows on sunwashed walls, the scent of orange blossoms hanging in the air like a memory you could almost taste. I wandered through narrow alleyways and stumbled onto quiet plazas where old men played cards and kids kicked soccer balls beneath tiled murals. The entire city had a texture, a rhythm, a color palette that felt timeless. But as light and free as the place felt, my backpack was anything but.
That morning, as I sipped a café con leche in a small taberna, I looked down at my bag and sighed. My action camera—which I swore I’d use for shooting slow-motion running shots in the Alhambra—hadn’t left its pouch since Lisbon. My smart fitness watch was dead in every sense. No steps tracked, no notifications buzzing. And a pair of studio-grade earphones—great for editing but too bulky for my kind of movement—had sat untouched at the bottom of my pack for weeks.
I decided it was time to lighten the load. A quick search led me to a Cash Converters near Plaza Nueva. The shop was tucked between a pharmacy and a bookstore, its front windows filled with neatly arranged displays of phones, watches, laptops, and even jewelry. It didn’t feel like a second-hand shop. It felt like a tech boutique crossed with a treasure trove.
Inside, it was busier than I expected. A teenager was trading in a PlayStation, while another man next to me was discussing pricing for a drone he’d only flown twice. Behind him, someone was holding a portable DJ controller, and a woman was getting a quote on her flat-screen TV. It was like a backstage pass to the modern traveler’s lifecycle—things bought with excitement, used for a time, and then returned to the world to find new purpose.
I spoke with a staff member named Laura. Friendly, efficient, and clearly experienced, she took my camera and accessories for inspection. While her colleague evaluated the fitness watch and earphones, she explained how I could also sell photography gear, home appliances, smartwatches, audio equipment, jewelry, and even power tools. She walked me through the process of their recoverable sale system too—just in case I ever changed my mind about an item and wanted the option to get it back. The transparency was refreshing.
Ten minutes later, I had cash in my hand. Enough to cover tapas at El Rinconcillo, cocktails with a view, and a last-minute ticket to a flamenco rooftop performance in Triana. More importantly, I had space—both in my bag and in my mind.
What struck me most wasn’t just the transaction. It was the sense that Cash Converters had become a part of my travel rhythm. It gave me a way to adjust, evolve, and stay nimble without waste. Letting go of what no longer served me didn’t feel like a loss—it felt like an upgrade in how I moved through the world.
Granada’s Alhambra and a Refurbished iPhone
Granada pulled me in like a dream: palaces, poetry, music echoing through alleys. But my phone battery kept dying. It wouldn’t hold charge through a full day of sightseeing, and it lagged every time I tried to upload content.
So I went back to Cash Converters, this time as a buyer. In the store on Calle Recogidas, I found a refurbished iPhone in perfect condition. It was tested, verified, and came with a warranty. I paid less than half the price I would have in a typical electronics shop. I was also shown laptops, televisions, tablets, Thermomix appliances, and even sustainable jewelry made from recycled materials.
That iPhone ended up capturing some of my best photos: the Albaicín at sunset, my feet in the Darro River, a moonrise over the Sierra Nevada.
Buying and Selling in Valencia: Watches, Tools, and Stories
By the time I reached Valencia, I had settled into a rhythm: I used Cash Converters to upgrade my gear and lighten my load. I’d find what I needed and let go of what I didn’t. In one day, I sold a used smartwatch, bought a used mechanical watch, and spoke with a fellow customer selling a drone he no longer used.
The store had a range that felt almost infinite: computers, sports gear, home appliances, jewelry, video games, and even DJ setups. It didn’t feel like a second-hand shop—it felt like a gallery of things that still had life left in them.
One of the staff told me I could also use the online appointment feature to book evaluations or services in advance. That made my next few visits even smoother.
Barcelona: A New Tablet and a TV for a Temporary Home
Staying in a rented flat in El Raval, I realized I wanted to stream some shows, edit videos, and write in comfort. My small travel laptop wasn’t cutting it. I visited the Cash Converters location near Plaça Catalunya and picked up a tablet and a flat-screen TV, both in perfect working condition and shockingly affordable.
I also met someone selling a GoPro, and another with computer accessories in hand—both clearly travelers doing what I was doing: making room, gaining flexibility.
Everything was searchable in the asset management system, and the staff explained how the data dashboard helped them know what was available at other stores too. If I didn’t see something on-site, they could often locate it nearby.
Bilbao: Selling Gold, Buying Time
In Bilbao, I remembered the gold chain I’d inherited and never worn. I took it to Cash Converters, curious to see if they’d be interested. Not only did they buy gold and jewelry, but they also explained how their recoverable sale program worked. I could sell the item and choose to buy it back within a certain window.
I sold the chain and used the money to join a Basque food tour. I was told I could also renew the transaction online, if I changed my mind later. That flexibility made it easy to let go without fear.
A few days later, I came back and bought a watch—sleek, vintage, and far more meaningful than anything I could’ve picked up from a generic retailer.
Pamplona: Sound Gear and the Joy of Selling
I didn’t plan to stay long in Pamplona, but I found myself talking to a local musician who swore by Cash Converters for buying and selling audio gear. He’d picked up a set of speakers for his band, then sold them when he upgraded. That inspired me to part with the Bluetooth speaker I was carrying. I hadn’t used it once since arriving.
Inside the local branch, I watched someone selling sports equipment, another bringing in photography accessories, and yet another trading in tools and smartwatches. The line moved fast. Staff were efficient. The vibe was pure energy.
Málaga: Online Renewals and Recoverable Sales
In Málaga, I was caught in a sudden shift of plans—weather delays, train rescheduling, unexpected fees. I needed quick cash, but I didn’t want to permanently part with my tablet. A staff member at Cash Converters explained I could do a recoverable sale—a short-term transaction where the item could be bought back under an agreed window.
I scheduled the visit through the appointment system, completed the transaction, and later used the online renewal option when I needed more time. It was fast, transparent, and gave me the breathing space I needed without feeling like I had lost anything.
Across Spain: A Marketplace of Motion
Every city had its own Cash Converters. Madrid. Seville. Granada. Valencia. Barcelona. Bilbao. Pamplona. Málaga. I walked into each one with different needs—and found new ways to travel better, smarter, and more sustainably.
What I bought:
- Refurbished iPhone
- Laptop
- Tablet
- Television
- Thermomix
- Watch
- Sustainable jewelry
What I sold:
- Tablet
- GoPro
- Fitness tracker
- Smartwatch
- Gold chain
- Bluetooth speaker
- Photography gear
- Camera accessories
- Sound equipment
- Jewelry
- Computer supplies
What I recovered:
- Tablet (through recoverable sale and online renewal)
I checked the Cash Converters blog on train rides for inspiration. Stories of people opening side hustles with refurbished gear, parents picking up school tablets affordably, couples building their kitchens from second-hand Thermomix machines. The blog wasn’t just about transactions—it was about motion, adaptation, reuse.
Through every transaction, I gained something beyond money or gear. I gained space. I gained freedom. And I gained choice—the kind you can only find when you know where to look for value, even in the things you no longer need.
