#andorra

No, seriously. The Consell General (our parliament) is inside a building smaller than most banks.

It’s wedged right into a bend in the road in Andorra la Vella. It has a parking garage underneath.

In theory, you could run for office, park your car, and walk into the chamber in under three minutes.

I once tried to explain this to a coworker from Berlin. He laughed for five straight minutes.

And yet, it works.

Our political system is one of the oldest in Europe — we’ve had co-princes since the 1200s. One is the Bishop of Urgell (Catalonia), and the other is the President of France.

It’s weird. But stable. And very us.

Maybe you don’t need a palace if you’ve got snow, fiber internet, and municipal hot springs.

New Parliament of Andorra, headquarters of the General Council of Andorra since 2011.

When I was a child, I thought every country had ski lockers at the supermarket.

That’s Andorra. Small, yes. But we live vertically — and very much on our own terms.

I was once asked by an American tourist if we use euros “like France does.” I told him we do. Then I told him we’re not France. Or Spain.

We’re both. And neither.

Catalan is our official language. We learn Spanish and French from childhood. Some of us speak Portuguese at home. Our newsstands carry newspapers from Madrid, Toulouse, and sometimes Lisbon.

And yet, we are something else entirely.

When I travel, people ask if I’m Spanish or French. I always hesitate. “I’m Andorran,” I say. Most smile politely. A few ask if that’s in Africa.

It’s okay. We’re used to being overlooked. But the snow knows who we are.

We belong to mountains. And to each other.