Roy Adventure Year in Spain

Prologue - The Family Adventure Lives On!

2009-09-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

In many ways, Boulder has already exceeded our expectations on so many levels. Our house turned out to be even better than expected, and now that we have finally got all of our stuff moved in, it has already started to feel like a home. We have been continually amazed at how friendly and welcoming people are here, inviting us over to their homes and helping us network with other families and like-minded individuals. There is a strong sense of community and family here, which is what had been looking for but had never found in LA. It is nice to be so close to my brother Jeff, Lynn and their 1 year-old son Braydon who are only 10 minutes away and have helped us settle in quickly. Plus, we now live in the same town as our new best family friends, the Andrews - with whom we've shared countless highs and lows during our crazy adventures in Spain together. I love the fact that we can ride with the kids on bikes to school, watching with amazement as families seemingly pour out of the different streets along the route to ride with us. I love how our kids now regularly broker "play-dates" on the fly after school, as if drafting for a fantasy football league. The boys are in soccer and cub scouts (making a former AYSO junkie and Eagle Scout's heart smile), and Casey is now doing ballet and gymnastics. We found a local student who is from Mexico who is now coming out to work with the kids to preserve what little Spanish they have still retained, so we'll see how that goes! We are all continually meeting interesting new people and making new friends. They like their school and their teachers and Suzanne and I are filling up our time by volunteering at the school and getting to know the community. The biking out here is world-class, and I've had to re-set my perspective about what it means to be an athlete; the people here are on a completely different stratosphere! While the specter of employment and re-engaging in a career still looms in the back of our minds, we are quite content at the moment and are extremely fortunate to take this opportunity to really settle in before jumping into the next big thing. We have had enough craziness and uncertainty over this past year and it feels good to really take the time settle down and plant roots. We owe that to our kids, to ourselves and to each other. As each day goes by and we settle into our new lives here, our Spanish Adventure Year feels more and more like a vivid, fascinating dream. It is amazing to think about what a wonderful and crazy experience our last year has been and how much we experienced in such a short amount of time. All of us have memories which will stay with us for a lifetime, and although things didn't always match up to our expectations, that is what made this an "adventure" in the truest sense of the word. Viva Espana and Viva our new adventure in Boulder!

Moving On and Letting Go

2009-09-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

With the kids out of the house all day, we turned our energy towards closing out our lives and preparing for our final move to Boulder. Things turned out pretty smoothly, save for the last day when it took much longer than expected to move our final stuff out of the house. Although half of our possessions were already in storage and given our constant efforts to pare things down, I was shocked to see how much stuff we still owned! We ended up tripping over the new tenants, who started dropping off their things. In retrospect, it would have been better had we demanded they come a day later so we wouldn't have seen piles of other peoples' things stacked up in the carport and big encroaching flat-screen tvs on the walls, so we could have preserved our memory of the house exactly as we had left it. However, it was interesting and encouraging to note that neither Suzanne nor I had nearly the same melonchally feelings that we had when we left our house over a year ago. As much as we cherished our property and the wonderful memories created here, it seemed we were finally ready to move on. Plus, we had become really excited about the prospect of living in a great new family-oriented place in Boulder. While we had hoped to have many dinner-parties and catch up with old friends, we simply ran out of time. It was not until our last day, after the movers had boxed up our remaining possessions and we were officially "homeless" once again, that we were able to have a nice evening with Jody and Rob and a quick breakfast with Eric and Susan (round-the-world travelers who stayed with us in Javea), before jumping on our flight to Colorado.

Next Stop on the Adventure Train - House Hunting, Boulder, CO

2009-09-22T13:05:00.000-07:00

As it turned out, we only had several days to adjust, before Suzanne booked us on a flight to Boulder with the goal of locking down a rental home. Exhausted as we were, we were excited and admittedly a bit nervous to arrive there, knowing that this would be our new town. We stayed at my brother's place and began our property search with 5 promising options to look at. Unfortunately after 2 days, we had nothing to show for our efforts and we were discouraged. Seemed that everything we were looking at was either too small or had no yard. There were some interesting spec house options, but ultimately they were too expensive and we felt were more for showing/entertaining than living in. With our return flight looming, Suzanne asked me to stay 2 more days to keep searching and she headed back to pick up the kids from a long weekend with their babysitter. I must have called dozens of realtors and looked at over twenty places, but still did not have anything concrete by the time my trip ended. On one hand, it was only a rental, but we were going in with the attitude of finding a place where we might eventually settle, which made the search more challenging. Discouraged and frustrated, I headed back home empty-handed. The only angle that seemed to be working for us was by contacting the realtors of houses on the markets to enquire about rentals. After all, that's how we ended up renting out our house in CA, so we knew that this approach could work. It just meant more searching and a more creative effort. Suzanne began to dust off her previous house searches, and we started walking down the call lists. Fortunately, my brother Jeff and his wife Lynn were on the ground in Boulder, and they made several critical visits to "weed out" houses in our absence. Within several days Suzanne hit paydirt - a lovely house in N. Boulder whose owners were moving to S. Africa in August and had not been able to sell their house in time. Everything seemed to fall together perfectly for both families. The house was huge and sat on a beautiful five-acre park. Plus it bordered the local middle school, with several ballfields, a track and 8 tennis courts almost literally in our backyard! While we had not originally targeted North Boulder, it turned out to be a wonderful family setup and just felt right on many levels.

Last Hurrah in So. Cal.

2009-09-21T08:44:00.000-07:00

As we were thoroughly exhausted from traveling and living out of suitcases for the last several months, it felt great to come "home" to our beloved property in Agoura. Although half of our furniture and belongings were locked away in storage, our house was still more equipped than many of the apartments we had stayed in during our adventure. The kids were thrilled to return to something familiar, even though their toys and furniture had been packed away long ago. It felt especially great to jump into our own comfortable bed and fall into a deep sleep, already letting go of the many "hard lumpy bed" memories that had plagued us throughout our adventure year. Our first morning back at the house was a somewhat surreal experience. After everything we had been through, being back seemed like waking up from an amazingly vivid dream, as if nothing had changed. The canyon and house looked almost exactly the same as we had left it. We had always loved waking up to the sun coming up over the mountains and enjoying the beautiful, peaceful views from our bedroom, and today was no exception. Although we didn't have our favorite automatic espresso machine, we did manage to get a strong pot of coffee brewing. And the kids wasted no time jumping into our pool the moment they woke up and managed to play there all day long! I found myself in a dream-like, jet-lagged state as I headed out to our local grocery store and wandered aimlessly through the aisles - awed by the selection of foods and the fact that the store was already open at 7:30 am. However, I was shocked to see the prices of wine and bread, realizing that our days of quality $3 riojas and riberos and $0.25 loaves of bread were now gone. Reacclimatization was going to be a challenge... While it was great to spend some time back here, I would not classify it as a vacation by any means. We had tons to get done in the next 2 1/2 weeks in order to prepare for the new tenants as well as to figure out how best to transition ourselves to Boulder, CO. Fortunately, Suzanne enrolled the kids at Camp Keystone down the canyon during our time here and they could not have been more excited to be at summer camp with other english speaking kids! They were also fortunate to be able to have one last pool party with their LA cousins, Kyle and Kelani as well as getting to spend a few days up in Petaluma with their N. Cal cousins, Alexa and Dominic. While we were sad to be leaving family here in California, we were excited to get to meet our new cousin, baby Braydon, who was born right after we left for Spain last year.

Heading Home

2009-09-18T11:20:00.000-07:00

By now, we had whittled down our possessions to a very manageable 4 checked bags and 5 carry-ons. We called for two cabs and headed to the Santiago airport, eager to make our way back to Madrid, and ultimately, home. Suddenly, Suzanne jumped out of the cab in front and frantically hailed us to pull over - she had forgotten her iPod in the apartment. The iPod was probably her most important material possession for the next 24-48 hours, as it was loaded with podcasts and new movies to help make the flight more tolerable. I rushed back with our driver and tried to figure out how to get back into the apartment, but to no avail - we were locked out and there was no way to get a spare set of keys in time. I returned to the airport empty-handed. Suzanne would have to suck it up on the long trip home. Of all the things to forget! But all things considered - other than a lost DVD player in Seville- we managed to make it through the year with pretty much everything intact. Our only other hiccup on the flight home was on the final leg from Toronto to LA. Apparently, in all the frequent flyer mile-shuffling, Casey and I got booked on a later flight and it was too late to make any changes. Suzanne had to fend for herself with the boys and all of our luggage for several hours at LAX, while I had to assuage a very tired and sad Casey, who cried for an hour straight when she realized that our family unit was to be separated. That being said, everything went reasonably well (thank goodness for in-seat videos!), and once we reunited at LAX we made a midnight drive to our home in Agoura where we would be spending the next 2 1/2 weeks before embarking on yet another family adventure.

Winding Down Our Spanish Experience

2009-09-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

As the so-called "leader" of this so-called adventure, I did what I could to enroll my family to enjoy our last few weeks here in Santiago, but the reality was that my family was done and had been done for quite some time. Finito. Terminado. Completo...DONE. Beyond done. Done with uncreative and limited Spanish cuisine, done with the struggles of learning a new language, done with communication challenges, done with limited internet and tv coverage, done with the lack of close friends, done with home schooling, done with hard, lumpy beds, done with living out of suitcases, done with the endless bureaucracy, done with cathedrals, museums and fiestas and simply done with being around each other 24:7. Just done. Try as I could, it was clear that the best thing for the family was to wind this experience down and move on. People would often ask us, given the still slumping economy, why didn't we stay in Spain for another year. Perhaps if we had lined up meaningful jobs in Javea, a second year could have been an option, but in reality, everyone felt it was time to go home. We certainly had a great run, but we now had our next life phase to focus on. Plus, we had tons to do before Aug 1 to transition out of LA and find a place to live in Boulder, which added a layer of anxiety to the mix. Suzanne re-booked our return flight back to LA several weeks early, giving us some much needed cushion to get everything done. Plus, it allowed us some time to enjoy our last few weeks in our Agoura home and re-acclimate to life in the States before starting up the adventure all over again in Boulder, CO.

Discovering Galicia on Bike - Connecting with the Way of St. James!

2009-09-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

Ever since we vacationed here in the fall, I had a burning desire to explore the surrounding area by bike. Santiago is considered the third most important pilgrimage site (behind Jerusalem and Rome) of the catholic church, and hundreds of pilgrims stream in each day on bike or on foot along the "Way of St. James", which leads across Spain from the Pyrenes in France to pay their respect to the (supposedly) interred remains of St. James the Apostle. All told, there are about 5 different routes leading into Santiago, but all roads converge at the Catedral in the city center. I rented a mountain bike on the weekends, and set out to explore the different routes and see more of the Galician countryside. For me, this was the "sweet spot" of my Galician experience - out alone on a bike, connecting with nature, discovering new villages and people, getting lost - exploring the area in detail as a local might. The surrounding countryside was lush and beautiful, filled with thick pine and eucalyptus forests and peaceful, gurgling streams. At times, it seemed I could not escape the hustle and bustle of the city and would be stuck far too long in industrial areas on busy motorways (Rua de Ingles). On other routes (Rua de Plata and Rua de Frances), I felt like I was in a garden paradise, with post-card perfect little towns, rolling hills and spectacularly-preserved stone houses and churches in the middle of nowhere, where people still washed their clothes by hand at the local watering hole. The routes on the Way of St. James were marked with a characteristic scallop shell tile on a blue background, pointing the way to Santiago. It was always a welcome sight to come across one of these markers on many an obscure pathway, knowing I was still going in the right direction. On the way back from my last ride, I passed through a tiny village called Santa Lucia, where I was lured by the sound of bagpipes and singing. I got off my bike and found myself in the middle of the Feast of Santa Lucia. They were serving up sardines grilled on open flames served with warm crusty bread and lots of beer to wash it down. The local kids were dressed up in colorful costumes and were putting on a wonderful dance and singing performance accompanied by a bagpipes, flutes and a drum band. And of course, what festival would be complete without a life-size statue of the Virgin (adorned on the back of a flat-bed truck!). I got a few surprised stares from the crowd, probably wondering what a sweaty foreigner in bright lycra bike gear was doing at their festival, but overall it was just one big party. I headed back to Santiago, thrilled with my discovery and content that I had enjoyed more than my fill of festivals and could return to the States with no regrets!

Last Hurrah in Santiago de Compostella

2009-09-18T11:15:00.000-07:00

While we were definitely ready to leave Seville, we had mixed feelings about returning to Santiago de Compostela. On one hand, we loved Santiago from our fall trip and were excited to return to Elena's apartment in the Plaza de Mazarelos, which was a great place in an ideal location close to the center of town. On the other hand, Santiago was a known entity, and a lot of the excitement had worn off now that there was little left to "discover". But we arrived there with no issues and immediately began to settle in. The kids were thrilled to explore the place as the memories started to return to them. We wasted no time taking advantage of the colorful local outdoor marketplace (Mercado de Abastos) and I endeavored to cook up some fresh Galician seafood and wonderfully thick juicy steaks that were so famous in this region of Spain. We also enjoyed the deliciously fresh and crunchy Galician raisin loafs and the handcrafted local cheeses - most of which were impossible to find anywhere outside of this region. The produce was also fabulous and I took advantage of the local favorite - pimientos al Padron. But the kids seemed to prefer keeping it simple. By far their hands-down favorite place to eat was the Bar Candelejas, directly below our apartment. They loved the grilled jamon y queso sandwiches (sometimes served with a fried egg) washed down with a Fanta limon. Although the meals were not very spectacular, it certainly was affordable! While Santiago is certainly one of the most picturesque cities in all of Spain, it also holds a dubious distinction as one of the wettest and least sunny (second only to Vigo) in Galicia. However, given it was the middle of summer, we were fortunate to only get a few days of rain, and overall it was spectacular during our time here. Being a college town, summertime also is a time for events and festivals. Of note was a cross-town festival of tapas where local bars would make 2-3 of their signature tapas in the hopes of winning various awards, and a music festival which hosted world-class concertos in intimate venues (churches, monasteries, palaces) throughout the town. Many of the concerts were free and we managed to catch a few really good performances (violin/piano, spanish guitar) while we were there. Galicia is also a region fabled for witches and dark magic. One evening, we took part in a local custom, the preparation of the "Queimada" - a bizarre alcoholic brew made with a grappa-like alcohol to which is added sugar, orange rinds and coffee beans. The concoction is then set alight and stirred whilst the participants say a chant to ward off evil spirits. Suffice it to say that the resulting drink was not particularly tasty, but it did make for a memorable experience!

Things We Won't Forget About Seville

2009-07-13T12:04:00.000-07:00

The heat - although we thought June would be manageable, it hit close to 110 degrees during one of our weeks there. Our kids would only last about 2 blocks before melting down. Granizadas - those sour lemon slushies make the perfect drink for a hot afternoon. If only they were served more often with vodka (or any alcohol for that matter)! The Festivals - for a place that is 90% catholic, very few young people attend church anymore. But they sure know how to celebrate their patron saints! Seems like everyday is an excuse to get out and celebrate something. After a while they all seem to blur together. Doesn't anyone work around here? And don't they get sick of parades? Maria Luisa (Pigeon) Park - a wonderful place to take the kids and chill out on a hot spanish afternoon. For 1.5 euros, you get a bag of pigeon food and literally get swarmed by hundreds of pecking creatures. Even Hitchcock would be impressed. Be sure to wear a hat! The Alhambra and Gardens - stunning moorish architecture and a peaceful garden paradise smack in the middle of Spain's 4th largest city. If only the Moors could've conquered Los Angeles! Plaza Alfalfa - this is where the true locals hang out with their kids after work/school. Cheap canas and plenty of decent tapas while the kids play. Plaza del Salvador - this is where the locals come to meet each other, have a beer and some tapas and decide where to go out for the evening. The place seemingly explodes at 8 pm almost every evening. Long-distance shopping - nothing close to the Catedral and limited hours to boot. I still have numb fingers from where the plastic grocery bags cut into my hands, carrying 40+ lbs of groceries (wine, beer, milk) 7 blocks uphill in the blistering sun everyday. Good story to remind my kids when they complain that there is nothing in the fridge! Plaza de Espana - cooling fountain, beautiful collages of each spanish region, and a wonderful incorporation of brightly-colored ceramics into the buildings. Not the most durable building material, but certainly exquisite! Health Hazards - our apartment, while beautiful, turned out to be somewhat dangerous. First, Casey slices her knee on an exposed piece of metal from the pull-out bed and then Suzanne severely dislocates her pinkie finger (90 degree angle!) when slipping on the stairs. In both cases, the lack of a convenient urgent care clinic and our reluctance to brave the hospital system led to poor outcomes; Suzanne now sports a "football player" knuckle and Casey a very pronounced bright red keloid scar (making us feel like bad parents every time we see it!). Suzanne has already declared that Casey will be getting reconstructive surgery when she gets older.

A perfect Spanish day? - eating snails and playing in the plaza

2009-07-12T01:44:00.000-07:00

One late afternoon, we made our way to the Plaza de Alfalfa to let the kids run around for a while and enjoy some tapas. This plaza was great - a bit off the beaten path of the tourist areas and filled with local families who seemed to come out in force at 8 pm every afternoon (yes, in Seville 8 pm is still considered the "afternoon"!). Our kids were a bit down and tired of being dragged yet again out of the apartment, but picked up a bit when they saw a huge group of schoolkids in the plaza, many with hand-held videogames. While initially shy, they mustered up the courage to walk over and peer over their shoulders. At first the school kids ignored Kellen and Christian and would walk away from them. But Kellen was persistent and kept following them around. Suddenly, the tables turned and Kellen was surrounded by ~8 very animated kids, who were very excited learn he was an "American boy" . While Kellen was clearly surprised by the rapid transition from being the outsider to becoming the center of attention, he clearly was relishing it, save for the occasional embarrassment of his father walking over to take pictures. For the rest of the time, about 5 girls followed him around the plaza and it was very cute to see him with a smile on his face. One of the specialties here was caracoles (small snails basted in olive oil and garlic). Casey and Christian were very excited to have me order some and watch me eat them. Personally, I enjoy them - they are kind of like eating a small clam or oyster - and wasted no time devouring the pile. Christian mustered up enough courage to try a few and he seemed to like them, although I don't think it will be something he orders again! Casey on the other hand, liked to pose for the camera, pretending to eat them. To be fair, she was brave enough to try them once before in Javea. Suzanne and I sat back and enjoyed our canas (small beers), soaking up the atmosphere and watching our kids play and fit in with the locals. As for an inside peak into Sevillian city life far from the tourists, it couldn't get any more authentic than this!

Seville - Festival City, ESP

2009-07-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

Given my label as a "festival chaser", I was disappointed to have missed Semana Santa (holy week) in Seville, which is considered THE most significant religious festival in all of Spain. But as luck would have it, there were many other opportunites to experience religiosity in Seville, as two significant festivals occurred during our time there. The first was the procession of Our Lady of Esperanza (Hope), in which a large procession of the Virgen Mary adorned with flowers and hundreds of candles was solemnly carried across town directly in front of our apartment - accompanied by parish locals, farm animals and marching bands. We had a perfect birdseye view from our balcony as they passed by. We had no idea that this procession was occurring, but were fortunate enough to be there for it. It always amazes me how well-attended these events are, but how little they are advertised in the public forums. Perhaps as a way to keep these more of a "local" flavor. However, the next festival, the Feast of the Eucharist (Corpus Christi) was much better advertised. One lazy afternoon, we noticed religious items being dropped off at various points around town, but we were not clear as to their purpose. As we finished up our meal in the plaza, we were amazed to see the town begin to come "alive" as the colorful displays were now fully set up, and were beautifully adorned with candles, flowers, tapestries and offerings of bread and wine. The whole city seemed to come out that evening, strolling the main pedestrian streets and peering into storefront windows, where each shop would sport its own mini display, often with a baby Jesus or figure of Mary along with offerings of bread and wine - all in front of flamenco dresses, lingerie and kitchenware. You gotta love the ironic juxtaposition of religion and commercialism - apparently Spain is not immune from this.

Rediscovering Seville with Friends

2009-07-02T08:19:00.000-07:00

I often gain a greater appreciation for where I live whenever people come to visit and this was certainly the case in Seville. My two best friends from UM B-School, Vera and Allison (with her husband, Tom) came out to spend 4 days with us. Other than my folks and Suzanne’s mom, the only other people to actually come out to visit us were Eric Steeb and his wife Susan during our second week in Spain and our good friend Kim who met us in Florence for Christmas. Many promised, but few actually delivered! So it was a welcome treat to have someone else brave “la crisis” and head across the pond to come share part of our adventure. After 2 weeks of more or less laying low, we went back to being tourists. The challenge was to put more of a local spin on things. I needn't have worried - as it turned out, one of the highlights of their trip turned out to be simply hanging out on our terrace and catching up while drinking some nice Riberos and enjoying the views of the Giralda / Catedral. Hard to believe after 2 weeks, our view had become an "everyday" experience here, and it was nice to be reminded just how amazing it really was. We spent a particularly nice day with them back at the Alcazar (this time without tired kids), the site of an amazing network of palaces and gardens. While slightly smaller in scale than the Alhambra in Granada, I would say this definitely rivaled that in terms of spectacular moorish architecture. We took a decidedly slower pace this time, soaking in the sites and not trying to rush things. For me, the absolute highlight of our time together in Seville was at La Carboneria - a small beer garden tucked deep into the Barrio de Santa Cruz, which put on low-key, but intense flamenco performances late at night. I felt the performances were as good as any of the more "canned" touristy shows in town - and all for only a 2 dollar cerveza! After the performance, the tourists all headed out and we stuck around for a while to talk. We heard guitar music from an adjoining room where a few locals were gathering around. Suddenly, an older man sitting at a table burst into a song and the place started to pick up. Over the next hour (around 1:00 am) people started streaming into the bar and sitting around as the old-timers would get up and sing different flamenco songs to a raucous cheer from the crowd. They were clearly well-known and respected in the Seville community and it turned things into an amazing, fun and passionate evening, shockingly devoid of tourists. The show ended when one of the local elders got up and headed to the exit, ignoring the pleas from the crowd to stay a bit more. I heard him muttering as he left; "No, I'm going home now, I have to work tomorrow at 8 am!" One of those wonderful, authentic spontaneous moments that make a trip and one that we will all remember fondly for a long, long time.

A Room with a View

2009-07-02T08:18:00.002-07:00

For us, Seville turned out to be the “splurge” of our Spanish itinerary. We found a wonderful apartment called Puerto Catedral, which literally fronted 2 of Seville’s most iconic buildings, the Giralda Tower and the Catedral. And with two large, private terraces, this may have been one of the best locations in the city. I particularly enjoyed the outdoor shower on the terrace, but had to be somewhat wary of the tourists who climbed the Giralda who had a birds-eye view of our terrace from up above! The apartment was fabulous, save for the 5 flights of stairs we had to take to get to the top! After all the traveling, Suzanne promised the kids no churches or museums for 4 days and we certainly eased our way back into Spanish life and culture. We would have slept in every morning were it not for the cacophony of bells that clanged away each morning at 9:00 am (and again two more times before 9:30). And this was not your ordinary ringing – the choir would last for 2 minutes or so. It was literally impossible to sleep through such a racous. Talk about culture!!! But even with that forced wakeup call every morning, we took it slow and would consider ourselves lucky to make it out of the apartment by 1:30 pm for the start of Spanish lunch hour.

Next stop, Seville, then...Boulder?!?!

2009-07-02T08:18:00.001-07:00

Coming off of such a fantastic experience in Turkey, we had mixed emotions about returning to Spain. While I was excited to be heading to Seville (it was originally one of our top choices to live), I think we were a bit less enthused about spending so much time in such a large city (4th largest in Spain). In addition, we were close to being “done” with Spanish cuisine and pretty weary from constantly traveling and getting oriented yet all over again. But what really complicated things was that we were in the process of finalizing a rental contract for our home in California – freeing us up to pursue our (now not-so-distant) dream of moving to Boulder, CO. Not long ago, we had put that plan on hold indefinitely, realizing our house would not sell while we were away. I was resigned to moving back to LA to figure out our next steps from there, even signing up for the Malibu Triathlon in September to give me something to look forward to. Suddenly, we found ourselves thinking differently about the future. Suzanne was reinvigorated, scouring every Boulder property on the market for rental opportunities. The thought of moving to Boulder was both exciting and scary - while we now could look forward to putting some much needed normalcy back into our lives and plant some roots, we had no real leads on places to live nor job opportunities once we got there. It felt somewhat surreal, knowing we still had 2 months left in Spain to enjoy our adventure year. However, we were starting to feel anxious about so many more changes and about everything that would need to get done on our return. It was clear that our “adventure” would now continue well beyond a year, albeit unfolding in a much different way. With that context and quite a bit of anticipation, we caught the high-speed train and headed down to Seville.

Turkey – Going Underground in Cappadocia

2009-06-08T14:48:00.000-07:00

Today we headed to the Kaymakli underground city, a fascinating labyrinth of underground tunnels, rooms, churches and hideaways built underneath a seemingly normal and non-descript village above. Residents started tunneling into the soft tufa stone as far back as the 2nd century in order to create defensible cities underground to withstand the frequent attacks by the various empires across Asia Minor. Excavators have discovered rooms some 8 stories below the surface and have found tunnels 6 miles long connecting different underground cities. The entire city population could go underground and wait out the sieges, as the caves had storage facilities, ventilation shafts and critical access to the water table. Fires were only lit at night so as to avoid giving away their location underground. Residents would wall off entire sections underground with giant stone wheels that were rolled across small stone passageways, and many well placed booby traps would keep their would-be captors “in the dark”, so to speak! We spent the rest of our trip visiting different nature sites and fortresses in the valleys and cliffs of the Cappadocia region, exploring the many caves and bizarre stone structures. The kids seemed simply happy to run around in the outdoors and pick wildflower bouquets for Suzanne and Dee. One of our favorite and most spectacular areas was the troglodyte city. A troglodyte in this case refers to a type of religious hermit who lived in these cave structures. They often had cult-like status amongst the area residents, and it was considered good luck to have a troglodyte in your neighborhood. The “city” was set in a series of 3 connecting valleys and the caves were all wide open for exploration (save for the ones that were collapsing due to erosion). A few of the passageways went deep into the cliff, but since we had no lights, Scott and I thought it would be better to stay within sight of our families, so as not to become inadvertent troglodytes. I’m not so sure the family would be up for us spending the rest of our adventure year in a cave… On our last day, we packed up our belongings and said our goodbyes to the Andrews. We were all a bit sad and nostalgic, as we had been through so much together, and it was hard to believe our shared experience was actually coming to a close. They were on their way to meet some good friends in Greece, while we would be heading back to Spain to give Seville a try for the month of June. As hard as it was to say our goodbyes, we were excited about the possibility of seeing them sooner in Boulder. More on that later.

Turkey –Hanging with the Troglodytes in Cappadocia

2009-06-08T14:47:00.001-07:00

It was amazing how fast time went by on the gullet trip, given how little we actually did. But it was a much-needed break, which gave us energy for exploring the lunar landscape and underground cities of Cappadocia. Cappadocia is a fascinating region in the very center of Turkey, somewhat resembling the vast open planes of Wyoming coupled with the spectacular scenery of Canyon Country in Utah. With one key difference – people have lived in the rocks here for thousands of years. The region is characterized by Tufa stone, which was formed by layers of compressed volcanic ash. Tufa is extremely soft and easy to carve, allowing residents to build cave dwellings right into the cliffs and under their homes. We pulled into the Gamirasu Cave Hotel late at night, so we didn’t have a full appreciation of the countryside. Things started out auspiciously, as the kids were carsick from the ride and complained about funny smells (we were dropped off in a very impoverished part of the village, as the van could not go down to the hotel). But the hotel turned out to be a welcome surprise and our 3-room place was built directly into a huge rock. It was well-lit and even had full internet service – for the next few days, our emails would lead with; “I am writing to you from inside a cave in the middle of Turkey”! We met Yashar, our guide for the next two days, and we embarked on a fascinating tour of this region. Of particular note was the Goreme open-air museum, a cliffside network of 4 monasteries, which each housed over 350 residents during the Byzantine era. There were a number of hidden churches built into the rock, with well-preserved frescoes dating as far back as the 9th century. The irony was not lost on the kids that although I had promised we were done with museums and churches for a while and would be out in nature, here we were in a site that was both a museum AND a church! Who could have known?... We later went to another spectacular site with Dr. Seuss-like mushroom cap rock formations. It was hard to ignore that many of these are extremely phallic in nature, but it all started to make sense when we noticed a small shack selling various herbs as “natural Viagra” nearby – talk about an effective marketing campaign! We also got a big rise at the ceramics studio in Avanos, where the kids got a chance to throw their own clay pots on a giant foot-powered potting wheel. Of course, afterwards we were paraded through their display section and there were a few tense moments as Suzanne was eyeing a $2,000 ceramic bowl (although she asserts she was never serious about it). I had no problems playing the bad cop with the dealer and we got away clean. However, I couldn’t claim the same success the following day at the artisan jewelry center. There is only so much a man can do when his lovely wife sets her mind on a fine piece of native turquoise! At the end of the day, we were taken to an historic palace - which once served as an overnight outpost on the silk route - to see a religious rite performed by real live whirling dervishes. I always thought the term “whirling dervish” was cool, but I must admit I had no idea what it meant. As I now understand, dervish is a type of monk, and they get their name by spinning in a very spiritual dance ritual, which apparently puts them in a trance-like state and brings them closer to God. The music, chanting and spinning was quite mesmerizing (I got dizzy just watching) and seemed to put Dee in trancelike state, as we caught her nodding off at the end of the ritual!

Turkey – Living the Good Life on the Nirvana 2

2009-06-08T14:46:00.000-07:00

Scott Andrews has always been a huge sailing fan and had been lobbying hard with his family to charter a boat and do the famous “blue cruise” on the Agean. Suzanne practically grew up on the water on family vacations and was interested in doing an all-inclusive trip. Plus, I had fond memories sailing in Turkey for a day (with my friend Athar during our post college EU whirlwind trip). So we decided to go in together to rent a Turkish yacht and live large. As long as we were already this close, we might as well splurge – for who knows when we might get another opportunity?!? Today was the day we had most been looking forward to; embarking for a 5 day Agean cruise on board a Turkish Gullet (a double-masted wood yacht that resembles a schooner). We had selected a beautifully preserved 30-meter (over 90 feet!) boat called the Nirvana 2, which came with a crew of 4 and had 8 private cabins. All meals were included and we had them stock plenty of beverages to keep our thirst quenched out on the water. As we arrived in the port of Marmaris and boarded the boat, we were speechless – this boat was huge, with plenty of cushions, outdoor dining areas, and decks for serious lounging. Plus, when the kids were playing up front, we could hardly hear them. The crew immediately took care of us, providing a great meal of pasta and turkish salads and plying us with plenty of cold beers to get us in the right frame of mind. As we left the harbor, all the previous fatigue of sightseeing and traveling left us immediately and we had no trouble adapting to the 24:7 service of a full crew. while we’ve certainly had relaxing trips before, this one was over the top! Basically, our 5 days on the gullet went like this: We would awaken in the morning at leisure with a cup of coffee on the deck. The crew would lay out a huge breakfast spread (homemade bread, fresh jams, cheeses, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers) and we would eat before embarking to a new cove or inlet. There, we would anchor and swim, snorkel, sunbathe and play in the kayaks while the crew prepared lunch. The kids especially enjoyed hosting their own version of survivor and would build tribal camps at various beaches along the coves every place we anchored. After downing a few beers, we would have a big lunch and then the crew would pull anchor and head to our final cove for the day. This was then followed by more swimming, reading and exploring until tea-time at about 5 pm. After a few more hours of diving off “the plank”, racing kayaks at sunset, and several very competitive games of hearts, we’d have a late dinner and finish off the night with a few bottles of Turkish Red. It seemed that we were eating the whole time, but the food was so tasty and healthy, we always seemed to be hungry. And of course, we were never too far from “beer thirty”… I especially enjoyed the sounds of the water lapping against the boat as we shared stories and eventually drifted off to sleep. Then the process would start all over again the following morning. Ahhh…now THIS was the life! While this was certainly one of the most expensive vacations we have taken, it was perhaps the most enjoyable and relaxing. I think we are now forever spoiled!

Turkey – Ephesus and Kusadasi

2009-06-08T14:45:00.000-07:00

We caught the morning flight to Izmir and headed out to Ephesus to explore the roman ruins of this major archeological site. This once was a thriving port town, with a covered market, palaces, library and 24,000-seat ampitheater, which had been remarkably restored. After all the sightseeing in Istanbul, however, the kids were getting a bit frustrated and they clearly needed some down-time. We had a wonderful vegetarian lunch in the small mountain town of Sirince, just a few kms outside of Ephesus. They are supposedly known for their local wines, but I found them a bit lacking. I did, however, break down and buy a dessert wine made from mulberries. As we came to learn later, it wasn't great, but it certainly did not suck. Fortunately, we were almost through with the sightseeing and everyone was ready for some serious relaxation. Our next leg of the trip brought us to Kusadasi, a scenic port town on the Agean. We stayed at the Kismet hotel, which had a Cape Cod beach feel to it. The kids collected a whole bunch of rocks down by the water and decided to set up a rock shop in the front driveway of the hotel. They then proceeded to badger every single patron who showed up at the hotel. It was fascinating to watch them work out their business model on the fly as their confidence picked up. Casey and Grace were the greeters and would not take no for an answer. The rocks were pretty ugly, so they relied on 99% charm and 1% product. Emma and the boys would handle the actual negotiation and transaction, ultimately netting the team several hard earned euros after netting out the cost goods for the display (a very dirty hotel towel). It was a great diversion, allowing the adults a chance to enjoy the waterfront view and have a nice quiet meal while the kids honed their newfound business skills. The hotel staff was great with them and did not run them off the property, in spite of their somewhat aggressive sales tactics. Made the shopkeepers in Morocco look pretty tame by comparison – at least in Morocco you could enjoy a tea during the bargaining!

Turkey – City Slickers in Istanbul

2009-06-08T14:44:00.002-07:00

Our trip started in Istanbul, home of the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia – some of the most important historical/religious icons in the Arab world. Istanbul is an amazingly cosmopolitan and westernized city– located on the Bosphorus peninsula, it reminded us of San Francisco in many ways. With a population of 13 million, it was also quite crowded and lively –the pedestrian Istikal street at night reminded me of the crowd at a Michigan-Ohio State football game –an endless sea of people as far as we could see. We were immediately struck by the quality of the food here – delicious grilled kebabs, flavorful yogurt sauces with mint and dill, fresh tomato/cucumber salads and wonderful vegetarian dishes. I think it was probably the freshest and healthiest cuisine we have eaten all year. We awoke early to meet Khan our guide and then off we went to reconnect at the Hagia Sophia with the Andrews, who were flying in from Athens. The Hagia Sophia is the 4th largest religious structure in the world – a fascinating blend of byzantine and muslim influences. Built in the 6th century by the Byzantine Empire, it is stunning in its size and simplicity. Then we were off to the Basilica Cistern, a spectacular underground palace created to store water for the entire city during the Byzantine Empire, allowing it to withstand the many sieges upon the city. The cistern was constructed with columns of previous Greek structures and contains many interesting (and decidedly non-Byzantine) symbols to ward off evil spirits, such as a column of “evil eyes” and a giant medusa head turned on its side. While these features were never intended to be seen (the entire complex was under water), it is speculated that they were put there just in case the Byzantines were wrong in their new choice of religion. Whatever the reason, the kids seemed to enjoy it. Our last highlight was the Blue Mosque – a fully functioning religious site and the primary icon of Istanbul. While not as dramatic as the Hagia Sophia, it was worthwhile to be allowed into a mosque of this magnitude. And I guess our trip to Istanbul would not have been complete without an obligatory stop to the Grand Bazaar. Somehow, we managed to escape with our pockets lighter by only a few Euros, probably because everyone was tired from a long day and looking forward to a siesta back at the hotel. We finished our day with a huge fresh grilled fish washed down with some Efes beer and girded ourselves for a very unreasonable 5 am wakeup call the following morning.

Heading to Turkey with the Andrews Family

2009-06-08T14:44:00.001-07:00

Thanks to the proactive planning and tireless effort of Dee Andrews in conjunction with the folks at CTC travel, we headed out on a dual family excursion to Turkey. We are so fortunate to have met the Andrews in Javea – not just because they are wonderful people and great friends, but also because they continually inspire us to take bold steps on our adventure year. It is safe to say that had we not met the Andrews, we probably would not have left Javea early, seen Morocco, or ventured to Turkey. They have given us new insights on making quick decisions without looking back, how to live comfortably with few possessions and how to stay centered in the face of uncertain times. It is rare to find someone who is on the same “wavelength” – let alone a whole family! And it has given us the chance to share new experiences and create memories with another family who completely relates to what we are going through. And to think we may even be neighbors with them someday in Boulder!

Living Large in Salamanca

2009-06-08T14:34:00.000-07:00

We were very excited to be joined by the Andrews family – who also decided to vacate Javea early and explore Spain a bit more. We would often meet up with them in the Plaza Mayor and head out for dinner and/or drinks and ice cream. And of course, we had to search for the elusive frog, carved into the plateresque facade of the university - those who can find it without assistance are said to receive good fortune! Their children, Grace and Emma who were 7 and 10 years old, gradually warmed up to the boys over time. We weren’t so sure how it would go, since they tended to steer clear of them when we would get together in Javea. Given Salamanca was a chance for Suzanne and I to relive some of our fondest memories, we set out to find caretakers for the kids during the day who could also work with them to further their language education. Rocio was the daughter of our apartment manager and she was looking to earn some extra money during a break for school exams. She would come in the mornings and spend time with the kids reviewing Spanish before taking them out to the local parks/plazas or out for an ice cream, speaking only Spanish. Of course, Casey relished the attention, as her command of Spanish was far superior to the boys. Over time, however, Kellen began to show his stripes - he obviously learned more at XIC than we gave him credit for! Christian, on the other hand, resisted Rocio’s efforts at every turn and his progress was much slower. It was a treat to have the mornings and afternoons free to explore the museums, monasteries and cathedrals, take care of errands and have leisurely lunches - without the frustration that comes from being with kids all day long. I think by the end of 3 weeks, they started to drive Rocio crazy, but she managed to handle it all in stride. I even took the opportunity to enroll in a local school for foreigners (Letra Espana) for 2 hours a day. It was a wonderful blend of classes – everything from interpreting Spanish music, watching videos, role-playing exercises and lectures on the formation of the Spanish government. I wish I could have kept doing it longer. By this time, all of us were quite weary of the Spanish cuisine and we unabashedly frequented as many non-native restaurants as we could find – Asian, Italian and even a little Mexican (not up to par with CA standards, but still a nice change of pace). Also, during our time in Salamanca, Suzanne headed back to the states to celebrate Kim Michelson’s 40th birthday and have some much needed girl time (talking, shopping, mani/pedis, drinking, talking, talking, talking). While I was happy to see her back in her element, it wasn’t the same to be in Salamanca without her, and the kids missed her a lot. By the time she got back, we were ready to pack our bags and head to the next stop on our adventure itinerary – Turkey.

Return to the Golden Glow of Salamanca

2009-06-08T14:29:00.000-07:00

Salamanca is a special place for Suzanne and I - we traveled here some 12 years ago and it was by far one of our favorite cities. We have wonderful memories of sitting in outdoor cafes, drinking granizadas, people-watching, or simply admiring the golden glow that radiated from the spectacularly preserved sandstone buildings around us. I must admit we weren’t sure it would live up to the romantic image from our memories, but we needn’t have worried – Salamanca was everything we remembered and more. After only a few hours in the city, I found myself thinking aloud; “how come we didn’t just move here from the get-go?” It is a warm, vibrant, beautiful and quintessentially Spanish city that always has a lot going for it. There is an energy to Salamanca that is contagious, and we felt immediately at home. We were fortunate to have found a newly remodeled apartment only a few blocks from the Plaza Mayor, considered by many to be one of the finest plazas in Spain, if not in all of Europe. Built by Philip V (he seems to be behind many of our favorite sights), the plaza is the central gathering point for Salamancans. Every evening seemed to either begin or end there and it was a real treat to see it when the lights came on at night. One of our highlights during the first week was re-discovering Chez Victor, the site of one of our top 5 meals of all time. I was amazed to see Victor himself standing in the front with his wife – just as it was yesterday. I booked a surprise reservation for Suzanne and I the following day. We had a great time and even ordered the duck again which was just as good as before. The deserts did not live up to expectations, but overall it was just like old times and we finished off the meal with a nice Pedro Jimenez sherry. Victor claimed he remembered Suzanne, saying “I always remember the pretty ones!”.

Living in Spain - Top 10 Learnings

2009-06-07T10:19:00.000-07:00

For those reading through the lines of our blog, We (myself in particular) certainly misjudged a number of things in our approach to our adventure year. While overall we have had an absolutely spectacular time, we certainly have made mistakes along the way. I guess and adventure without mistakes and risks is not really an adventure, right? Looking back after 9 months, we have come away with some important and valuable insights and I wanted to take this chance to share our top 10: 10) It is not possible to fully integrate into the community of a foreign country in just one year. Those who have travelled abroad before said we’d need at least 2 years, and that is probably about right, if not longer. 9) It is very common to reach an emotional low point after 6-9 months in a new place. If possible, avoid making big decisions during that time, or at least realize that you are making decisions during a low. 8) It takes a huge, consistent commitment to speak a new language with any competency - it is far too easy to get lazy and revert to English. And the Spanish are all too happy and ready to practice their English with us! 7) An “adventure year” with kids is a bit of a misnomer – kids don’t naturally seek adventure and they are quite content in the present –what they crave is normalcy and stability (wives for that matter as well!). Kids don’t have an inherent need to seek new festivals or run with bulls. They will turn on you and make you pay if you drag them to too many museums and churches without building in sufficient play time. 6) If you want your kids to become fluent or at least comfortable with spanish, put them into a local public school. Sure it will be scary and hard for them initially, but they are much more adaptable than we give them credit for. Furthermore, make sure that if they do watch TV, it is in Spanish, so at least they can absorb something of value! 5) If you want a quintessentially Spanish experience, avoid living on the coast (perhaps with the exception of Barcelona). We learned the hard way that "Javea is not Spain", as is much of the Costa Blanca. 4) Changing languages for one year will not cause lasting harm. Given our boys were in such a formative stage, we were concerned that it would not be fair to the boys to throw them into an all-Spanish school and would interrupt their educational progress. The reality is… reading has been no problem for them – provided we provide captivating books a la the illustrious Beast Quest series! While they certainly benefited from a british-school education at XIC, we missed a great opportunity to have them learn Spanish. 3) While we certainly longed for the "romantic" image of Spain - a country where time moves a bit more slowly, people contentedly live in small whitewashed villages with minimal influences of modern society, and just a more simple way of life - such an image is more and more fleeting now that Spain is part of the EU. Furthermore, we realized that we needed something more. Our fondest experiences have been the many travels Suzanne and I have taken over the years. As much as it would be nice to be happy staying put, we felt a powerful urge to explore as much of Spain as we could while we were here. 2) "No pasa nada" is just part of the culture in Spain - it is the Spanish equivalent of "don't worry...be happy"! People just don't get wound up much (unless, of course we are talking futbol!). Sure, things don't always happen as told, but nobody seems to fuss too much. There is always manana... and learning number 1).... What it means to "live" in Spain is a misleadingly romantic concept. While it is often easy to romanticize another culture or place, in reality, living in Spain it is not so different than living anywhere else. People work, buy food, spend time with family & friends, take care of their homes and follow their daily routines, just like anywhere else. Of course there are differences, but the basic fundamentals are the same. It is safe to say that our greatest learnings came from actual experience - the good, the bad and the ugly. We have certainly come away wiser, and while some of our learnings were painful, I think they have enriched our overall experience. Sure, looking back, there were many things we might have done differently, but if that were the case, we wouldn't have had the same adventures we are enjoying so much right now. We have certainly been reminded that there are no "do-overs" in life - you take things as they come and deal with them as best you can. That's about all we can or should expect...

Segovia and La Granja de San Ildefonso

2009-05-20T05:41:00.001-07:00

What I had originally envisioned as a 4 day immersion in Segovia turned into a quick half-day side trip, as Suzanne was recovering from the flu and the kids were still threatening revolt from any further sightseeing. Segovia is an amazing city – quintessentially Spanish and stunningly beautiful, with a fairy tale castle, roman ruins, a gothic cathedral and a maze of narrow winding streets to explore with very interesting architecture on the surrounding buildings. It seemed to be a very vibrant cultural city as well, with lots going on around town. Hands down, the most amazing site was the roman aqueduct, built in the 1st century to bring water to the town. It is considered to be the finest example of roman engineering still standing today and it almost looks surreal as it towers high above the town. This is one of the few man-made features I have seen that left me with my jaw dropped to the floor. Suzanne and I would have liked to spend more time exploring the town, particularly the Alcazar, as well as the surrounding area but we were happy to at least have gotten a chance to spend some time here. Maybe next time we’ll do it without kids… Earlier in the week, we also managed to get out for an afternoon to La Granja de San Ildefonso, the site of a beautiful palace and gardens built by Philip V. Philip was the grandson of Louis XIV, and he built this site as his own personal retreat after spending his childhood in the gardens of Versailles. La Granja sits at the base of the Sierra de Guadarrama, which is still covered with snow in some spots (note to self…beautiful, but very cold in the winter!). The gardens are filled with tree-lined avenues and hidden squares with bizarre baroque fountains, which seemed a bit over the top when juxtaposed against the natural surroundings. At the end of the day, a number of the fountains were turned on, sending huge plumes of water into the air. Much to the kids’ delight, the winds had picked up and would blow the water into the crowds of people, who ran for cover. Most people cleared out quickly and soon, the only people left standing under the torrent were our three little knuckleheads. But they were having so much fun that we just let them be kids for a while. Fortunately we had a few jackets packed which came in handy as they emerged from this unexpected “water park” absolutely soaked to the bone!

Chillin’ out at San Lorenzo de El Escorial

2009-05-20T05:29:00.000-07:00

Although for the most part, we locked in our travel plans for the remainder of our adventure year, we did have this open question of what to do with our 5 days before Salamanca. For a while, I’ve had my sites set on Segovia, about an hour north of Madrid. Coming out of Morocco, we were tired, dusty and suffering from a lingering GI distress. We were desperately in need of clean clothes and a good night’s sleep (2 hr. time difference meant sunrise at 5:30 am!). Unfortunately, we would be traveling during a two day Spanish national/provincial holiday weekend, so our housing options were limited. Plus, with a car packed to the gills, the thought of dealing with the logistics of a crowded city center was a non-starter. After a bit of on-line wrestling with an Arabic keyboard at an internet café, I was able to book a townhouse in San Lorenzo de Escorial, site of the royal monastery built by King Philip V. It seemed close enough and at least gave us a place to unpack and regroup. When we got there, it was perfect on many levels - a huge place by European standards, and bright, roomy and comfortable. It sat at the base of a national park, with a great terrace view of the plateau and Madrid below. We were all wiped out from the rapid-fire itinerary and chaos of the last 9 days and it was a treat to chill out for a bit and just relax for a while. Plus, by this point, the kids were on the verge of mutiny from being dragged any more historical monuments. I officially resigned for a few days as family tour guide – which was received quite well by my family! We took a few days off and broke several rules in the spirit of recovery (e.g. Burger King for lunch, and plenty of movies/cartoons for the kids). Suzanne came down with the flu, so the kids and I toured the area around the monastary, went out to the local parks for a picnic, some fresh air, hikes, and good old fasion hide n’ seek. The surrounding area was beautiful and green this time of year and it reminded me of Chataqua Park in Boulder, CO.

Morocco – Giving Marrakech One Last Try

2009-05-20T05:17:00.000-07:00

Coming back in to Morocco, we immediately felt more at ease, as our Riad was located in a more central part of town heavily traveled by tourists. It just felt more “friendly”, although there were certainly people all around us urging us to part with our money. However, we did have one scare after a quick dinner at a small cafeteria, when we returned to the Riad and Suzanne realized that she left her purse there – something she has NEVER done since I have known her! I had flashes of panic, wondering how we were ever going to cancel all our credit cards and important documents from a foreign country where we don’t speak the language and our phones weren’t working! Fortunately when I arrived, her purse was sitting on the table and the owner had been keeping an eye on it, awaiting our return. I thanked him profusely and returned to the Riad relieved, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Over the next few days, we enjoyed several of the major palaces in the city, which interestingly were not well preserved and paled in comparison to the Alhambra and the Mezquita in Spain. It had always surprised me to hear people say “if you want to see the finest examples of Moroccan design, go to Spain”, but now I get it. In the spirit of cultural experience, I got sucked into one shopkeeper’s lair, ostensibly to enjoy a cup of mint tea and discuss life in America. Of course, this quickly degraded into a “perhaps you would like to look at a few carpets while you are here” marathon, where he must have brought out over 50 carpets for me to look at in spite of my countless protestations. What ensued was a painstaking review of which carpets I MIGHT find somewhat interesting. After rejecting 49 outright, I hesitated on one and that was enough to start the bargaining process. He drew out 2 columns on a sheet of paper and asked me to name a price. At first I refused, telling him we had absolutely no room to take home a carpet under any price, but he would not back down. Ultimately this ended with an offer so low, he was insulted and demanded a tip for his “hospitality”. It was worth a euro to pay for his pot of tea and get out of there! We later wandered through an amazing distribution center of Moroccan hand crafted furniture and brightly colored home decoration items. Suzanne called this her version of “torture” - being amongst all these amazingly beautiful pieces without buying anything! Particularly since we had no room in our luggage and no clear idea of what to buy for (as you may know, our house has been on the market all this time and we still don’t know exactly where we will end up after the summer). So she had to suck it up, bite her lip and somehow get through the next several days empty-handed. I must say I could not relate completely to her struggles, but it certainly looked like she was in a lot of pain… One of the most fascinating places was the Jmaa el Fnaa plaza – the central square in Marrakech. As the sun got low in the sky, the square came alive, as the food stalls were set up for grilled meats, stews, sheep’s heads, boiled snails and all sorts of other interesting things. With all the smoke and flames from the grills, the square almost looked on fire every night. In the background, small bands would form in the plaza, playing flutes and drums and people were out everywhere, congregating around fortune tellers and street performers. It was a mesmerizing experience and was a microcosm of the amazing intensity of this country – the sights, sounds, and smells – all at a level that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Kind of like Vegas without the kitsczh! It seemed at times our kids were in a state of sensory overload and it will be interesting to see what they recall from this trip when they look back.

Morocco – Rockin' the Kasbahs in the land of Ben Hur

2009-05-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

We spent the night in a spectacularly renovated Kasbah in the town of Skoura, right in the heart of some of the most spectacular Kasbahs in Morocco. The next morning we stopped at Atlas Movie Studios, where a number of movies have been filmed, such as Gladiator, Kundun, the Jewel of the Nile, and currently a modern remake of Ben Hur, which was being filmed under great secrecy and security. Coming from L.A. (where this is an everyday occurrence), it was somewhat surreal to visit a burgeoning movie industry out here, but the kids really enjoyed walking through the abandoned sets - many of which were falling apart, giving a sense of how crudely they are built. Then we were off to Ait Ben Haddou, one of the most impressive Kasbah villages in the country and a UNESCO world heritage site. Kasbahs are basically military fortresses that have been transferred into family living quarters shared by one or more families. Ait Ben Haddou consists of four such Kasbahs, linked together by an intricate structure of adobe village quarters built into the base of the mountain. It was one of the more stunning and memorable images in all of Morocco and one of the reasons I was so excited to come here. On arrival, however, the winds were blowing something fierce and the kids had little patience for the sand stinging their eyes the minute we got out of the car. Casey started crying immediately and I thought to myself; “uh-oh, this is not going to be good”… but off we went anyway, hoping the winds would die down. We had a guide and the kids seemed to perk up when they learned we had to take a donkey across the river to get there. But that didn’t last long, as the blowing sand literally wore them down. Inside the complex we were protected from the wind and it was enjoyable to get a tour of traditional Moroccan living quarters and kitchens – all with dirt floors and open windows – depicting the simple existence of traditional Moroccan family life. We could see how the adobe was unable to withstand the particularly heavy rains from this winter, as many parts of the walls showed significant signs of water erosion - the adobe surfaces need to be re-finished every 3-4 years, depending on seasonal conditions. As we worked our way to the top of the village, the winds were even stronger and we began a rapid retreat back to the car as the kids were all melting down and crying. Suzanne and I both longed for the relatively carefree and simple days of traveling alone as a couple! We then headed back over the Atlas Mountains into Marrakech, where we would finish out the last three days of our trip, hopefully a bit less “memorable” than our first day. Hammadi dropped us off in town and we said our goodbyes – fondly remembering our experiences in the desert and our time with Hammadi and his family.

Morocco – An Insider’s Perspective of a Moroccan Family

2009-05-18T06:40:00.000-07:00

Today, we were fortunate to have Hammadi give us a different perspective of Morocco. First, he took us to his adventure camp, a fairly rural piece of land in M’Hamid owned by his family, which he is in the very early stages of development into a base for adventure travelers. We had tea in his “restaurant”, a large Bedouin-style tent with Berber carpets and pillows and then headed back to Zagoura, where Hammadi’s family lives. His family lives quite well by Moroccan standards – his father was a successful figure in the Moroccan army and owns land in many parts of the country. As is custom here, the parents provide what they can and then their children are expected to take over and bring in income to support the extended family, which can often be quite large. Often, only one or two family members will bring in income to support everyone. Hammadi’s home was located on a quiet side street that looked fairly plain from the outside, but was extremely large and modern on the inside with an unbelievably large number of “sitting rooms” for hosting of guests. Their backyard resembled a small farming complex nestled in a grove of palm trees, with animals, gardens and terraces. We met his sister and many of his cousins and nieces. Per Moroccan custom, we brought “white gifts” for the house - milk, salt, bread and sugar – symbolizing purity and good luck. We were then seated on pillows in one of the main rooms for an amazing couscous lunch - with carrots, onions, eggplant, zuchinni and roasted goat from the backyard. Traditionally when his father is home, the men would eat in a different room from the women. However, since he was away that day, we all ate together in the same room - although Hammadi, his cousin the boys and I ate at a separate table and were served first. It felt strange to be eating while Casey and Suzanne were staring at us hungrily! Hammadi was kind enough to give us utensils for eating, although traditionally, Moroccans eat with their right hand (the left hand is considered unsanitary). His sister showed Suzanne and Casey how to roll balls of couscous, but it seemed quite messy and none of us bothered to try. It was simply a struggle to remember to not touch food with my left hand – particularly since I am left-handed! After a desert of homemade cookies and fresh fruit followed by a mint tea, the women presented Suzanne with a pretty hand-made bracelet and necklace, and Casey exchanged coloring books with Hammadi’s niece, Delel, who is also 5 years old. While at times it was a struggle to communicate given our inability to speak each other’s language, overall it was an amazing gesture of hospitality and gave us unique insight into daily Moroccan family life.

Morocco - Real Men Don't Ride Camels?

2009-05-18T06:32:00.001-07:00

Along the way back to M’Hamid, we passed a number of actual Bedouin nomad caravans with their camels. We came to learn that real nomads don’t ride camels – rather they walk alongside them and use the camels to haul their supplies and water from camp to camp. After cleaning the sand as best we could out of our cracks and crevices back at the hotel, we then ventured back out to the local desert on a camel ride – something the kids had been looking forward to this whole trip. Getting up on a camel turned out to be quite a thrill, as the camels would rock forward on their knees and then back on their hind legs, rising up in a herky-jerky fashion that left us all holding on for dear life for fear of being flung forward, as if from a catapult. But once we got going, it was quite smooth and quite a thrill to be so high up off the desert floor. That is, until the winds started picking up the sand from the desert, pelting us like a sandblaster with its microscopic “bullets”. Visibility became limited and it was a struggle to keep our eyes open as clouds of sand dust whipped into our faces. Not even the burkas we had purchased did much good. What started out as a; “Dad, this is the best thing, EVER!”, experience quickly degraded into; “Mommy, my butt hurts, my eyes hurt, my legs hurt and I want off this stupid camel, NOW!”. Under such conditions, an hour was more than enough and we were simply happy to get out of the sandstorm. On reflection, however, this was another great adventure and a much more realistic experience that the nomads have to deal with all the time. It was a good reminder of how hard life is for these people, and how they seem to take everything in stride - I have gained tremendous respect for these hardy people.

Morocco - Deep into the Sahara

2009-05-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

That afternoon, our 4X4 was loaded up and we enthusiastically jumped in to head out to the Erg Chigaga dunes. Our enthusiasm lasted all but 5 minutes as reality sunk in that we had a very long two hours ahead of us on extremely bumpy roads. After only 10 minutes, we lost the tracks and had to circle back to town to get our bearings and reestablish the route. It made us appreciate the hard life of the bedouin nomads, who travel for months on end with very little by way of landmarks out in the open desert. The kids were already starting to complain about being tossed around like rag dolls in the back seat. After about 20 minutes, I started to seriously question the wisdom of continuing further. Suzanne was giving me the evil eye and Kellen was starting to feel carsick in the back. Perhaps we should have just opted for the 1 hour camel ride!?! I was just on the verge of asking Hammadi to turn around and cut our losses when the road started to get better and we all started to settle down. As we got closer, things started looking up, as the dunes were even more spectacular than I had envisioned. The tallest dune in Erg Chigaga is over 300 M tall and the dunes seem to run as far as the eye could see. We passed a few tent camps along the way, but overall things were pretty desolate out in the desert. When we finally arrived at our camp, we were shocked to see it was much more than some tents in the sand – there were about 15 adobe structures with thick blankets on top and the camp itself was very comfortable, with a big dining area with berber carpets on the sand and plenty of couches and pillows for lounging around. They even had flush toilets and sinks with running water! It turned out that we were the only guests staying in camp that night and basically had a crew of 5 staff taking care of the 5 of us! The sun was getting low in the sky and bathed everything in a warm, golden light. We wasted no time venturing out to the dunes before dinner. I had my eye set on the tallest one, but it seemed too far away. As we started walking on the dunes, it became challenging to do in shoes, and we all ended up taking off our shoes to let the super fine, warm red sand sift between our toes. The winds which had been blowing all morning stopped in the afternoon, leaving the dunes with an amazingly smooth, untouched texture – which almost resembled a perfect powder day in the mountains (albeit with “red snow”!). For lack of a better term, we were “giddy” with delight running up one dune and tumbling down to the next. Sand was getting everywhere, but nobody seemed to mind. Suzanne and I both agreed that this definitely goes on the list of one of the coolest life experiences we have ever had, and it certainly made up for the rough 4X4 ride. Before we knew it, the largest dune was directly in front of us and we scrambled to the summit and enjoyed the sunset in relative silence, save for the shouting of our 3 kids, awed by the vast expanse of the Sahara stretching out for hundreds of miles around us. We returned to the camp by nightfall, exhausted and extremely satisfied as we enjoyed a bottle of wine and a chicken tangine (okay, I forgave them this time, given our fantastic experience!). Christian promptly fell asleep on the couch and Casey on my lap as the staff started a fire and began singing traditional bedouin songs to the hypnotic beat of drums and empty 10 gallon paint cans. In many ways, I found this to be similar to chants of native American Indians and was mesmerized by the concert. Finally, we could not keep our eyes open any longer, and collapsed in our tent. In spite of our exhaustion and the comfortable setting, it was difficult to sleep, first because of the heat radiating off the desert floor and the absolute silence around us, and later by the sound of sand grains pelting against our tent as the winds picked up in the middle of the night. I finally got up at 5 am to find everything and everyone covered with a super-fine layer of silt. I decided to head back to the dunes to enjoy the sun rising over the Sahara in solitude. It was a magical experience and I found myself overwhelmed with appreciation and awe for being able to experience this and so many other amazing things on this adventure year. Sure, things haven’t always gone as planned and we’ve hit bumps and setbacks along the way, but moments like this make it all worthwhile. I made my way back to camp to find the boys up and running around, so back to the dunes we went, looking for dried up animal bones and tumbling down the dunes yet again. Suzanne and Casey joined us shortly after and we enjoyed playing together before breakfast before our trek back to M’Hamid. The ride home was not nearly as painful as the ride out, perhaps because we were more prepared, but also, because I think Hammadi found a better route out.

Morocco - Southern Edge of the Sahara

2009-05-12T10:50:00.000-07:00

Today we had a short drive to M’Hamid, the last village outpost before entering the Sahara desert. Along the way, we stopped in Tamegroute, to tour a library with Arabic manuscripts on the Koran as well as medical and botanical tomes dating back to the 12th century. The kids got a primer on both Arabic and the more ancient Berber alphabets, and had their names transcribed in each language. We also toured a typical Berber community dwelling where the locals produced Moroccan pottery. It was a spectacular maze of almost underground adobe tunnels and houses (to keep cool from the sweltering summer heat). Once again, the simplicity of living conditions, the lack of basic comforts that we often take for granted and the overall hard life that these people live was a good eye opener for all of us – particularly as we headed to off a luxury resort style Riad with all the ammenities. The kids wasted no time playing in the pool while we had a relaxing poolside lunch - and finally, a welcome break from chicken tangines!

Morocco - Over the High Atlas Mountains to the Sahara

2009-05-12T10:10:00.000-07:00

After a typical Moroccan breakfast of grilled flatbread, homemade jams and fresh squeezed orange juice (even better than in Valencia!), we met our guide, Hammadi at the hotel from Journey Beyond Travel (JBT). The Andrews had nothing but great things to say about him and JBT, and we were fortunate that he was available. We happily left the dusty, bustling chaos of Marrakech and entered the lush and comparatively tranquil foothills of the High Atlas Mountains. The scenery was magnificent, with fields of bright red poppies and small Berber (the earliest inhabitants of Morocco) villages almost popping out of the green foothills. We wound our way over the Tichka pass at over 2,300 meters and I had visions of riding my bike up here someday; if only they would ban the massive 18-wheel construction trucks that come barreling up and down the pass! Perhaps trekking on foot would be a better option... Far down below, we entered the lush Draa valley with many spectacular Berber villages, which almost appeared to be carved right out the mountainside. These villages were built out of adobe - similar to what you might see in the southwest US, albeit much cruder and simpler. We had a delightful lunch (albeit another chicken tangine) on a terrace overlooking the river and one such village before making our way to the Sahara. We stopped at Ourzazate and picked up some exotic spices for cooking and also tried out some herbal remedies for smooth skin (Suzanne), snoring and headaches (me). We also passed a number of fascinating Kasbahs sitting out like islands in the lusher parts of the valley. We also passed many typical Berber villagers, who seem to live a very simple and hard life, mostly revolving around agriculture and raising animals. After a long day on the road, we arrived that evening at our guest house in Zagora, which sits at the base of an endless sea of palm trees as far as the eye can see. Much to our surprise, we were greeted with yet another chicken tangine (hey, what gives - is that all they eat here?!?) but we enjoyed sitting outside on the terrace while the kids played in the pool. The next day, we woke up refreshed and excited to begin our trek deep into the Sahara.

And Now for Something Completely Different - Morocco

2009-05-08T06:40:00.000-07:00

So after saying goodbye to our Javea friends, we packed up our stuff and headed to...Morocco. Hey, if we were going to break up the monotony and head out on the open road, this was certainly one way to do it! Our friends, the Andrews had travelled there in February and had such an amazing experience that we arranged a nearly identical trip, albeit with a few more days added on. After a bit of confusion at the Madrid hotel - where we reluctantly and anxiously opted to leave our computer and other valuables in the hotel storage closet - we had a surprisingly easy time getting to Marrakech, which turned out to be only 2 hrs away by plane. Our driver from the Riad (a typical Moroccan guest home) met us and began the seemingly impossible negotiation into the Medina, or old quarter of the city. Even with the luxury of a driver, it was quite a stressful experience, with people sharing equally the narrow roads - from bikes to motorcycles to walkers to big trucks - you name it. Cars were bumping up against bikes and people alike, and everyone seemed to take it all in stride. As we passed the Jema el Fna square, we saw monkeys and king cobras with their handlers. Everything was confusing and chaotic, yet exhilarating. Finally the car could not pass further and we were guided on foot out onto the streets with our bags towards the Riad. We passed through a dark, narrow alley that felt like a cave and passed through a small door no more than 3 feet tall, where we entered a beautiful, peaceful courtyard. We were greeted with sweet mint tea while we lounged on large couches with pillow cushions and were given an orientation to the city. The kids loved the courtyard - particularly the board games and feeding the two resident tortises who seemed to have the run of the place. After dropping off our stuff, we ventured out into the Souks of the Medina - the primary shopping/bartering region which is the ´nerve center´ of Marrakech. This is where things started to go downhill for us. We found ourselves disoriented and out of our element as people were calling us from all over, inviting us into their shops. Before I could practically turn around, Suzanne was off with the kids and they were all getting henna tatoos from two seemingly friendly ladies. ¨How much did you agree to?¨ I asked. Suzanne replied that she never discussed a price. Ouch!...this was not destined to end up very good. Of course, when all was finished they wanted 40 euros for their 90 seconds of “work” – not a very comfortable place to bargain now that services had been exchanged! We refused to pay what they were asking, and they started yelling at us angrily. After giving them more than they deserved, we kept wandering through the souks, albeit a bit flustered. The kids started to melt down, as they were up at 5 am to catch the flight here. We tried to head back for naps but quickly became lost. The locals were only too happy to help…for a fee of course! One man offered to help, only to lead us deep into a back alley in the souks to his store to try to sell us some blankets. Suzanne was getting freaked out about being cut off in a back alley without any people around, the kids were crying and we were clearly flustered. We turned around as fast as we could and found someone else to help us work our way through the maze of narrow crowded streets. We finally made it back to the Riad, only to be haggled with about the size of our tip! Everyone seemed to be trying to get money from us. After a much needed massage and nice full course dinner (with a wonderful lemon chicken tangine and bottle of Moroccan cabernet), things started looking up again. We were very much looking forward to the start of our guided itinerary tomorrow, and I was more than happy to let someone else take the reins for a while. Today certainly fit the bill as a memorable day in the annals of our “adventure” year.

Buenos amigos of the Cruz Roja (Red Cross)

2009-04-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

Given that Javea had a disproportionate population of EU expats, it was often hard to get to know the locals. One of the most valuable and rewarding experiences for me personally was to sign up with the local Javea Red Cross. They had just started up a new environmental program, called Medio Ambiente, with the purpose of improving and preserving the local environs around Javea. This group was made up of a handful of young people (30-somethings), all with a common love and passion for the outdoors. For me it was a perfect opportunity to meet and connect with other like-minded individuals, practice my spanish and get out to see everything Javea had to offer. We met in the evenings on a weekly basis to begin building a "business plan" for how to care for the various parks and trails in the area by hosting montly cleanup days. I learned a great deal about budgets and local politics (particularly the region of Alicante versus the national directives) and did my best to keep up with my colleagues when they would break into passionate, rapid-fire dialog, often reverting to Valenciano, a dialect I could not speak and barely understood. Often during the weekends, we would go off on hikes to document areas that had been degraded or worn due to heavy use in the hopes of convincing others to support and fund our cleanup and preservation effort. We would also attend lectures from local park guides in Denia, who would give fasciating lectures about the geology and flora and fauna of the area. Raul was the ring-leader of this effort, and his dedication and tireless efforts to make Javea a better place were an inspiration to me. Plus he was a good friend, who would go out of his way to include me in conversations and invite me along various excursions. Other key people included Lorena - the organizer driving the effort through the Red Cross, as well as other local volunteers like Jordi, Marco, Santi, Johanna, and Bianca. Everyone was incredibly friendly and would go out of their way to bring me in to their conversations and make sure I was understanding what they were saying. All in all, it was a fascinating group of people and an amazing experience. Through the Cruz Roja, I have made some wonderful life-long friends and I look forward to following their future endeavors to keep Javea beautiful.

Semana Santa - Domingo de Pascua (Easter Sunday)

2009-04-12T03:26:00.000-07:00

Today is Easter Sunday, marking the end of Holy Week (Semana Santa) in Spain. While the most significant Santa Semana celebrations take place in Andalucia (primarily Seville) and central Spain, several towns in the province of Valencia also host their own local versions. In particular, the mountain town of Pego hosted a number of processions throughout the town this entire week. I took the opportunity to see the final procession in Pego, which celebrated the moment when the Virgin Mary is reunited with her resurrected son for the first time. The procession began with two different parades leaving from different churches, one carrying a statue of the Virgen Mary and one carrying the risen Jesus. Each procession slowly wound its way through town with bands following -marching slowly to the beat of trumpets and drums - and culminated when the two statues were carried triumphantly into the town square to reunite. The bands then bursted into the "Hymn of Alegria", with children throwing caramelos and adults throwing flower petals at the statues. Of course, no festival in Spain would be complete without a mascleta (firecracker show) to cap off the celebration, and then the townspeople gathered up and returned to their respective parishes to celebrate Easter Mass. While the easter bunny is not well known in Spain (although he did make a surprise visit to our villa this morning - quite a feat considering the distance he had to travel!), the locals tend to spend the rest of the day with family, often heading down to the beach after mass to fly cometas (kites) and later enjoying a tarta de mona (a sweet pastry with a whole egg in the center) or a tarta de pasas y nueces (raisin and nut cake). For us, tarta de nueces was the hands-down winner of the day.

Las Fallas, Day 2 - Burn, baby, burn!

2009-03-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

After a few precious hours of sleep, we hit the streets, looking at the many floats across town and searching for breakfast (which was pretty much over now that it was noon!). I managed to find a vendor selling "bunoles de calabaza", a very traditional pumpkin fritter covered with sugar, which helped me temper my stomach from the night before. We then made our way back to the Ayunamiento to see the mascleta again - but this time up close. We got there early and positioned ourselves about a block away from the plaza so as not to go completely deaf from the explosions. This time the mascleta delivered and we could feel the shock waves from the powerful explosions and we all roared in approval. Satisfied, we went out in search for lunch and took a nice leisurely 3 hours. We then all went down to the Plaza de la Virgen to see the flower offerings, which were brought by representatives from each neighborhood to adorn a giant wooden statue of the virgen mary with child looking down somewhat sadly onto the plaza. We stopped to look at a few more floats before heading back to the hotel for a final "descanso" (rest) before the big finale - la crema, or the burning of the floats - signifying the end of Las Fallas for another year. At about 11 pm, we headed back to Juanjo's falla, where there was already a huge crowd lined up. The main intersection was completely blocked off by a metal fence on all four sides of the street, so the crowds could not get in to close. But before we knew it, Juanjo was waving us in and we found ourselves right in the middle of the intersection with front row views of the falla, which was now heavily laden with explosive fireworks. We were all looking at each other in shock - how did we get so lucky? Only the workers and their families were supposed to be on this side of the fence, but somehow, there we were. Suzanne asked Juanjo if he was sad to think that his piece of art would be burned and his answer was perfect; "when you cook a beautiful meal, are you sad to see people eat it? The burning is simply the final step in the process..." The floats started burning across the city at midnight but the larger ones were saved for last. Nothing happened for about an hour until suddenly there was a roar from the crowd behind the fence and a fire truck slowly backed up to take position next to the float. The crew of firemen, or bomberos, laid out their hoses and spread out along the intersection. Amazingly, we were still standing only 10 meters from the float and nobody seemed to pay much attention to us. But we heeded the advice of others and started to move back, as apparently these suckers can get pretty hot. Then the fallera (young girl representing this float for the neighborhood) stepped up and was given a ceremonial lighter to light the first firework. There were a short series of bursts as fireworks shot into the air in increasing numbers. Soon the very top of the float caught fire and within seconds, the whole thing lit up. The bomberos started hosing down the trees and buildings along the intersection as the heat began to get intense. We kept walking backward away from what was now a huge tower of fire. Finally, the structure burned through and collapsed and people started inching closer again to see the last remains of the float burn to the ground. It was amazing to think that a year's worth of work was gone in a matter of minutes - by choice! Fortunately, a small section of Juanjo's creation was selected to be displayed at the Fallas museum (the pope piece), so all was not lost forever. It was truly an amazing spectacle. As the crowds dispersed, we could see the cleanup crews already working away - within a few hours, all traces of 700 burnt floats would be completely removed and the town would be back to normal, as if nothing had transpired over the past nights and weeks. We laughed to think about what it would take to pull something of this scale off in the United States. Perhaps Burning Man comes close - but try doing it with 700 floats in a major metropolitan city! Event planners could certainly learn a thing or two from the Spanish! Scott and I joked that the whole process represented a sort of "organized chaos". It was crazy and insane, but somehow everything ran smoothly, people remained nonchalant and civilized and it never felt out of control or dangerous. Well, except for those "borrachos"...."viva Espana"! We will forever be grateful to Vincent and his wife Nancy, and Scott and Dee, and all the new friends we met over this whirlwind 40 hours who helped make this an experience we will never forget.

Las Fallas, Day 1 - The Fallas and Night of Fire

2009-03-21T07:22:00.000-07:00

From there we headed out into the streets and marveled at the amazing light displays down every street and at the fallas (or floats), which were strategically positioned at major intersections across the city. "Hey, whatever happened to la crisis?!?!" We were told that there were over 700 in all across Valencia, some very small and some over 5 stories high. Vincent casually mentioned that he had a cousin who had worked on some of the fallas and took us to see him. We were astonished to walk down one of the prettiest lit-up streets, Sueca, to find a spectacular falla and Vincent's cousin grinning proudly underneath. Vincent's cousin was Juanjo Garcia, one of the Falla Mayores - the master artist/builder of the fallas. Turns out his FULL TIME JOB was to design and supervise the construction of these incredible pieces of art. He gave us a detailed tour of this particular falla (he designed 9 across the city) and told us how it was constructed. Each falla is designed in a satirical, cartoonish manner and often mock or highlight various ills of our society. As Juanjo described, tomorrow night's burning of these Fallas represents an act of cleansing or purifying these ills. It was fascinating to learn about these amazing creations and see them "up close and personal". Then we were off to a local Spanish restaurant to meet Vincent's other cousins, who actually turned out to be very close childhood friends. Having dinner reservations in advance was critical, as Valencia tripled in size to over 3 million people. We met Paco, Rafa, David and their families for a boisterous, fun and filling traditional spanish meal. All the better, because we were struggling to stay up until 2 am for the Nit de Foc (night of fire) fireworks show, and this dinner certainly woke us up. We also got a great chance to speak Spanish with the locals and even Suzanne was talking like she knew what she was saying! Before we knew it, it was already 1 am and we had to quickly scramble to get over to the fireworks show in time. The Nit de Foc was truly a spectacle. Kind of makes our 4th of July shows look like watered-down kids sparklers. The only way I can describe it was the biggest finale times 5 that seemed to run for half an hour nonstop. The explosions were bigger and the colors were brighter and it was visually stunning to watch. I think we are now forever doomed as any firework shows in the future will pale by comparison and our kids will ultimately tire of us saying: "you think this is cool, let me tell you about the firework show we saw in Valencia way back in '09..." But then things got really interesting. As soon as the fireworks ended, people ran out into the street from down in the river bed/park. We stood there and watched, somewhat confused until we realized that the park was filled with teenagers armed with "borrachos" a special explosive that lets of flares of sparks and flies like an angry bee in a completely random pattern before exploding with a huge bang. If one of these is behind you while you are running, people say it will follow your backdraft and you will be the unlucky recipient of one of these explosions. Scott and I were like little kids, venturing out towards the river bank as the polvos were being launched all around us. We couldn't believe that this was legal and wasn't being broken up by the police. It was a crazy battleground out there and when one of the polvos got a little too close for comfort, we decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel.

Las Fallas, Day 1 - Mascleta and Bull Fighting

2009-03-21T07:21:00.000-07:00

Scott, Dee, Suzanne and I rolled into the Valencia train station and headed straight to the Ayunamiento for the Mascleta (firecracker spectacle). The crowds were already piled high in the streets and we didn't make it very far before having to stop and see it from afar. However, the weather was warm, the skies were clear and we were in high spirits. When the Mascleta went off, there was a huge roar from the crowd, but overall our first experience was somewhat underwhelming because we were too far away to feel and hear the full effect of over 60 kg of explosives. So after checking into our hotel and grabbing a quick bite to eat, we walked back through the town towards our first event, a real bullfight at the Plaza de Torros. Now first a bit of commentary on bullfighting. While there are certainly many passionate arguments for and against this spectacle, Suzanne and I don't really have a strong opinion either way, and we treated this simply as an opportunity to experience a distinctively Spanish tradition. So we went in with an open mind and perhaps a slightly morbid curiosity. We met Vincent, Nancy and Chally there and Vincent gave us a great overview of how it was all to play out, from the initial viewing of the bull in action, the picadors, the bandilleros to the final act alone with the matador. There were three matadors that day - Julio Aparicio, Alejando Talavante, and Daniel Luque, all of whom would be fighting two bulls. I was surprised at how small the bullring was, but the simple understated decor of the bullring was offset by the spectacularly colorful and glistening uniforms of the matadors and their support team. For me, I experienced a very wide range of emotions while watching this - at some times very disturbed and queasy at the cruelty and perversion, yet at other times awestruck at the beauty, pageantry and grace of the matadors in a cautious dance with these incredibly powerful bulls. It certainly helped to have Vincent there to comment on the subtleties of each matadors' performance and strengths/weaknesses of each bull so we could appreciate the event more fully. I won't say I have now become a fan of bullfighting, but this was definitely an experience that I will never forget.

Inside Las Fallas - INSANE!!!!

2009-03-21T01:59:00.000-07:00

Unexpected. Unreal. Unbelievable. That's our experience of Las Fallas summed up in 3 words. 40 hours of amazing non-stop visual and audio overload. A day later, Suzanne and I are still shaking our heads in amazement, wondering if it all really happened. They claim that Las Fallas is the biggest festival in Spain and we would wholeheartedly agree. Given my unfortunate labeling as the "festival chaser" of Javea, it was incredibly satisfying to experience the mother of all festivals - Las Fallas incorporated everything that is good about the festivals we have seen before and then ramped everything up 10-fold - floats, religious processions, floral offerings, bullfights, neighborhood block parties (on EVERY block), streetlights, fireworks, explosions, bonfires - you name it! And everything was done on a scale we have never seen before and will probably never see again. Even the Spanish call Las Fallas a "festival on steroids". For any of you who feel the need to have a bucket list, I would most definitely put this down as something to experience at least once in your lifetime. I'm putting it down ...twice. It all started fairly inconspicuously. I had booked a hotel room for a few nights so we could have a place to crash, but we really didn't plan much more beyond that. We had read several not-so-flattering stories about huge crowds, traffic jams, and injuries from firecracker explosions, so we were a bit hesitant to go at first. Fortunately, our good friends Scott and Dee Andrews were able to find a baby sitter and decided to come along with us. Their friends Vincent, Nancy and Chally from Boulder were coming out that week and we all decided to meet up in Valencia. We came to learn that Vincent had grown up in Valencia and was quite dialed-in to the scene there. What we didn't realize was that he turned out to be the best festival host ever, with a full two day itinerary fully mapped out, allowing us to experience Las Fallas as if we were local insiders. It was an amazing and completely unexpected experience that we'll likely never be able to duplicate.

A Taste of Andalucia - Jaen

2009-03-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

Our last stop on our tour of Andalusia took us to Jaen, a city noted for its vast olive groves and Moorish and Renaissance influence. Sitting at the base of the Sierra de Jabalcuz, Jaen is dominated by an impressive fortress, the Castillo de Santa Catalina and has a stunning Catedral. The catedral was built by Andres de Vandelvira, one of the key architects of Spanish Baroque style and dominates the old town. Inside the catedral there is a capilia which reportedly claims to house one of the veils used by Saint Veronica to wipe Christ's face when he died. During our visit, we local workers were dismantling some of the altars in preparation for Semana Santa (Easter Holy week), where the many figures from the catedral would be solemnly paraded through the town on large platforms (carried by groups of 40-50 men each) during Holy Thursday and Good Friday. The amount of work leading up to Semana Santa was quite impressive. Then it was up to the Castillo de Santa Catalina, where part of the castle had been converted to a Parador, a state-run chain of hotels in historic and unusual venues. The parador towered over the city of Jaen and offered fantastic views of the catedral and town below as well as the blue-tinged mountains, with endless rows of olive groves, marking this area as the top producers of olive oil in Spain. Inside, the parador retained the feel of living in a medieval castle, but with all the comforts of the modern world. Unfortunately, I had come down with some sort of gastric illness, but at least my folks had the opportunity to enjoy a fabulous multi-course dinner at the Parador. The next morning, we wrapped things up and made our way back to Javea. Reflecting on this trip, it was definitely a full itinerary, but not overwhelming. It was also great to be able to share this experience with my parents, so that they could see another facet of Spain, particularly that of the Moorish influence. But now it was time to head home, as Suzanne and I had only a day left before we were off to las Fallas in Valencia...

A Taste of Andalucia - Cordoba

2009-03-15T07:25:00.000-07:00

Then we were off to Cordoba and we had the usual nightmares finding our way into the town (it is quite clear there is a cost of staying right in the heart of a pedestrianized district!). Fortunately, Nieves, our caretaker guided us to the parking area and helped us settle in. The apartment was bright and modern and ideally situated just blocks from the Mesquita mosque and archeological museum, both of which were fabulous. The archeological museum was built in a palace housing many ruins and artifacts which chronicled the periods of various ruling occupations - from the Romans, to the Visigoths to the Moors. Cordoba, in particular also had a very strong concentration of Sephardic Jews, and their influence on the city remains to this day. In the Juderia (old Jewish quarter), we toured a traditional Jewish home and attended a fabulous music workshop of traditional Jewish/Andalucian guitar music. All across Cordoba and Granada we enjoyed the strums of spanish guitars echoing from small plazas and it gave me the urge to take up the ol' six string again. If I can only figure out how to ship everything when we leave... By far the greatest highlight of Cordoba is the Mesquita - originally a Visigoth church which was razed by the Moors to build a spectacular mosque which is defined by a seemingly endless "forest" of delicate arches of red and white stone, superimposed on two levels. Sadly, after the Christian reconquest of Spain, the architect Hernan Ruiz set out to build an imposing cathedral right in the center of the Mesquita and its cold baroque/renaissance style could not provide a harsher contrast to the delicate, open and contemplative nature of the mosque itself. The shocking juxtaposition of these two extreme styles presents a fascinating and memorable reminder of the vast cultural contrasts between these ruling parties which had such an influence on Spanish history. As we toured the city, with its beautiful courtyards, fascinating history and architecture, gurgling fountains, lush hanging potted plants and pedestrian streets, I felt very welcome and could us living here should we decide to stay another year. In many respects, Cordoba has come the closest of any Spanish city to my original "vision" for living in Spain. Who knows? Perhaps we will come back again soon!

A Taste of Andalucia - Granada

2009-03-15T06:31:00.000-07:00

My mom and dad arrived to Javea in early March to see the family and explore Spain a bit. In spite of all their travels, they really hadn't spent much time in Espana. They arrived after 4 fabulous days in Barcelona and my dad's sore ankle seemed to be holding up surprisingly well in spite of all the walking they did. After a few days relaxing with the grandkids, I took them on a trip to Andalucia in Southern Spain - the land where the moors predominantly ruled for over 700 years, leaving a marvelous legacy. I played a role as travel coordinator/spanish interpreter and booked out a week's itinerary, trying to balance my mom's wish to see as many cities / sites as possible, with my dad's preference for a more relaxing pace. We settled first on Granada and I reserved an apartment in the old historic Albacyin district - a winding, twisting maze of whitewashed homes perched straight across the Alhambra. I had come prepared with a plethora of google maps and directions and we made our way into the Albacyin with very little trouble. But once there, the roads narrowed and driving became quite stressful. The last 50 meters turned out to be more nerve-wracking than the first 400,000, as our instructions were a bit misleading and our car could barely make the 90 degree turns without scraping the sides of buildings. As we passed the street where the parking garage was supposed to be, there was seemingly no possible way we could get through, and we were stuck with cars waiting behind us. Yikes. Finally, after several futile attempts, we gave up and I called the owners, who thankfully led us out of this trap and got us safely to the garage. Well, not quite, as they forgot to mention that the gates tend to close quickly and my mom screamed as the rear gate started closing down on us. I shot the car through and got out to try to walk off the adrenaline that was coursing through my body. I now have huge admiration for the bus and cargo delivery drivers of the Albacyin who do this stuff every day - they must have nerves of steel. Our apartment was a little dated and darker than I would have preferred, but it had a decent patio and at least we could settle in and relax. It sat off a nice little plaza and had a bus stop right outside the door, so we could easily get to all the sights. The next day we headed off to the Alhambra - one of the finest and best preserved examples of Moorish architecture in all of Europe. The Alhambra was the last stand of the Moorish empire, which was ultimately overcome by the Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. But not without leaving an amazing legacy. The Alhambra is a spectacular system of fortresses, peaceful gardens and exquisite architecture all on one amazing location with stunning vistas of the city below and the snow-capped sierras towering behind. We spent the entire day exploring and we were blessed with beautiful weather and very few crowds. At times, it felt we had the place to ourselves and we enjoyed a wonderful lunch of traditional Andalusian food (marinated partridge, gazpacho and habas with jamon). By the time we made it through the gardens of the Generalife (Caliph's vacation palace), the sun was setting and we returned to the apartment, exhausted, but happy. The rest of our visit was spent exploring the Albacyin and touring the cathedral area in town. Of particular interest was the Capille Real (the royal chapel), where the stunningly stark metal tombs of King Ferdinand and Isabella lie - a stark contrast to the lavish and ornate decor of the chapel itself. I also had the chance to explore the gypsie caves of the Sacramonte, which was a little strange as it wasn't clear whether I was trespassing by walking right on top of these dwellings which were carved into the hills. I figured this was the equivalent of trailer parks in the US, albeit a bit more dark and damp! Overall, my impression of Granada is mixed - while the Alhambra is definitely one of my favorite places in all of Spain, I found the rest of the city to be a bit dilapidated and bohemian for my tastes. And while the Albacyin is certainly fascinating, I imagine it would be exhausting to navigate on a daily basis.

Barcelona Wrap-up

2009-02-25T14:31:00.000-08:00

The quieter highlights of our trip consisted of simply wandering from the Bario Gotico streets to Las Ramblas, popping into a church every now and then, climbing on some city statue, taking a coffee at one of the nearby plazas, or trying out new and interesting restaurants. Our favorite meals were the Iberian style tapa bars, whose "pinxtos" often looked too pretty to eat. And we must admit that we broke down and twice indulged in some great sushi (you just can't find a sushi place in Javea!). In a somewhat lopsided battle of wills, the kids often had the upper hand and easily finessed their way to an ice cream on the way back to our apartment. The ice cream here doesn't even come close to Italian gelatto, but it was good enough for them! Suzanne and I managed two nights out on the town sin ninos, and took advantage of the opportunity to catch up with Miguel and Laura and catch a concert at the Palau de Musica Catalunya, which was yet another a stunning architectural marvel. Luis Eduardo Aute, an iconic spanish singer-songwriter from the 60's, performed that evening. His music was a bit too dated and croony for our tastes - he reminded suzanne of a "Don Henley meets Julio Iglesias" - but to see any show in this incredible venue was well worth the price of admission. We loved Barcelona and we are finally figuring out that by spreading out our visit and not trying to cram everything in, we can all have a great experience.

Barca Futbol

2009-02-25T03:12:00.000-08:00

Barca, Barca, Baaaaaarca!!! On our last night in Barcelona, Miguel treated Kellen, Christian and I to a very special evening - a chance to see F.C. (Club Futbol) Barcelona play in their home stadium. Futbol is everything here, and Barca is the top team in Spain - if not all of Europe - and they have been absolutely dominating the league this year. With over 110,000 seats, Camp Nou is the place to be during a soccer match and we were lucky enough to get the chance to see them play. It didn't matter that they were playing the worst team in the league - I was just happy to be there. The boys were thrilled too and they proudly wore their new Barca jerseys of Messi and Henry, two of the top players on the team. Miguel had season tickets through his family which were right on the midfield line and close enough that you could see all the action. Unfortunately, the magic didn't last long for Barca and they found themselves playing an ugly game, with many fouls and were down a man and two goals by the start of the second half. Things got exciting when they scored a late goal, but ultimately it wasn't enough and they lost the game 2-1. The boys were puzzled and they kept asking Miguel "How come if Barca is the best team in the world, they are still losing?" Miguel for once this week was at a loss for an explanation! For us, however, it was still a great experience and we will forever look back on our times with Miguel and his family in Barcelona with a warm heart.

Forget the Museums - Barcelona Parks Rock!

2009-02-25T01:15:00.000-08:00

While we could have easily spent our entire week here touring the seemingly infinite and fascinating number of museums Barcelona has to offer, the cold hard reality is that our kids (particularly Christian and Casey) just don't dig museums, unless they show depictions of hell and/or mythical beasts and monsters. Perhaps we need to squeeze in the Prado at some point for that kind of stuff. They would much rather find a park and play hide 'n seek. Fortunately, we didn't have to settle on any old park - Barcelona has some fabulous offerings. Of particular note was the Park Guell, an "Alice in Wonderland meets Dr. Seuss" kind of place designed by Gaudi for the wealthy classses. I won't waste time trying to describe this place - only that it was whimsical, funky and surreal. I can't think of a better place for a kid to play hide 'n seek...that is until we discovered the Labrinto. The Labrinto, or Labrinth was a beautifully manicured garden, set on the outskirts of Barcelona and therefore, not heavily advertised nor visited. However, it was definitely worth the trip. While we have seen a few living mazes before, we have yet to visit one so large, tall and complicated. It warranted a discussion with the kids about staying calm and not panicking if they found themselves hopelessly lost. Unfortunately, their father should have heeded the same message, as it began to feel like I was back in the Barrio Gottico, wandering aimlessly through the winding streets, saying "I know our apartment is around here somewhere." And I felt the same tired-leg feeling that I seem to get so frequently when getting lost in a big city. After a while I just wanted to get out of the damned thing and considered cutting several large holes in the hedge and forcing my way out. too bad I didn't have any garden shears! Eventually we found our way out - not once, but several times, given that the kids didn't want to leave. By the time we finally left, Suzanne and I were ready for a spanish-style siesta!

Barcelona Museums and Buildings

2009-02-24T07:26:00.000-08:00

Aahh, Barcelona... the land of Gaudi, Miro and Picasso. For anyone with even a passing interest in art and/or architecture, this is the place to be. What I did not fully appreciate until this week was that these artists have an ability to capture the imagination of not only us, but also our children, who stayed engaged far longer than Suzanne and I had expected. Perhaps Gaudi has made the largest imprint on the city, with his unmistakably unique architecture which can be seen many places throughout the city. Perhaps the most famous - and certainly the most controversial- is his "Sacrada Familia" cathedral which was started in the early 1900's, partially destroyed during the Spanish Civil War and to this day seems to be forever under construction. Not all that much has changed since I saw it 20 years ago. While a symbol of Barcelona, people enjoy debating whether it is a) a hideous monstrosity or b) the work of a genius (or perhaps a little of both). Either way, there is no doubt it generates passionate conversation. We told our kids that, at the current pace of construction, they could bring their children here someday and it still wouldn't be finished! For me, this is an interesting metaphor for modern spain - lots of construction and change, but nothing ever seems truly completed. Gaudi's next big hit in Barcelona is La Pedrera apartment, which looks like a wavy sand castle with bizarre rooftop chimney structures that resemble something out of Easter Island. Gaudi was an astute observer of nature and many of his most creative breakthroughs were gleaned from observing natural structures, such as the pillars inside La Sagrada Familia which resemble large tree trunks. The Picasso and Miro museums were also outstanding, with their distinctly characteristic styles. The kids in particular enjoyed Miro's quirky, cartoonish and colorful paintings (with just a touch of eroticism thrown in for the adults!). While initially turned off by Miro's often childlike simplicity, I gained a new appreciation for the depth of his work on this visit. Had the little ones not started to meltdown towards the end, Suzanne and I could have easily lingered there much longer. Another museum we really enjoyed was the Maritime museum, capturing the history of Barcelona through the ships that sailed from/to this port town over the years. Very well done, with stunning replicas and many original ships and figureheads. And that was pretty much the extent of our museum experience. Any more would have likely generated mutiny from the children and most certainly pushed their parents to the brink of exasperation/insanity.

Arrival in Barcelona

2009-02-23T03:38:00.000-08:00

So after another stressful "adventure" (as I like to call it - Suzanne prefers a more colorful description) getting into town and finding our way through the Bario Gotico (thanks again, Miguel!), we finally arrived at our apartment. While the pictures on the web looked great, we were thrilled to find that the apartment exceeded expectations. Set in the heart of the old quarter, it was an old converted carriage house with huge 5 meter wood doors that opened up onto a small plaza for spectacular views of the original roman wall literally a few steps directly in front of us. This medieval wall was over 2,000 years old and originally contained the entire town, Barcino. The apartment was colorfully lit with moorish lamps and had huge ceilings and many funky details that made it all the more charming, particularly when the roman wall was lit up at night. It was just as pretty from the outside - on our first night, several passers-by stood on their toes to try to peak through the windows to see what was inside. Perhaps the most unusual feature was an outdoor bathroom and shower, housed in an open, semi-enclosed courtyard in the center of the building. While probably a lot of fun in the summer, let's say its charm quickly wore off when we had to make late night dashes to the toilet in the middle of the cold February night. And showers in the morning were "refreshing", for lack of a more colorful term! Other than that, it was a perfect setup for us and we were right in the heart of all the historic sites, with many cool bars, cafes and shops right around the corner. Many days we would just wander up and down the narrow medieval streets, perhaps stop and see a church or exhibit and then look for a cosy place to have a nice lunch, topped of by a cafe cortado (espresso with just a splash of milk). Other than the first day, we certainly had no use for our car and it pained me to no end to fork over 30 euros a day for parking. Next time, we will take the train!

Catching up with an old friend in Barcelona

2009-02-23T00:47:00.000-08:00

The boys had a half-term break, so we packed up the Focus and headed off to Barcelona for the week. With the help of our neighbor Carmen, I was able to track down the phone number of a dear high school friend, Miguel Nadal, whom I haven't seen in 20 years. Miguel came to the states as an exchange student and lived with one of my best friends, Athar Siddiqee for a year. Miguel and I bonded quickly at Homestead, and he is one of the primary reasons I developed such a passion for Spain, visiting him twice in Barcelona during post-collegiate trans-EU backpack trips. Miguel took no time to start giving me grief, saying, "Stevie...why did you take so long to call me?... and why the heck are you living in Javea? ...you should have checked with someone who actually knows something about Spain!" It was great to see that after all this time and now that we were both family men, he was still the same "Quel" that I remembered from so long ago. When I saw him, I had to laugh. Nothing much had changed except our hair - his is grey and mine is almost gone - a far cry from the 3 inch high afro I sported in high school! We decided to meet up at the Delta de L'Ebre, about halfway up the coast to Barcelona, where Miguel had recently purchased a home on the delta that he was fixing up for weekend getaways with family and friends. The delta is a vast, marshy wetland, full of river inlets, wild birds and seafood waiting to be caught. His property is quite large and is a functioning rice farm in the summer. We met up with Miguel, his wife Laura and son David (his two daughters were in Barcelona for a choral recital) and got a tour of their new home. They then took us out to a great lunch of arroz with squid ink, seafood fiduea and other spanish delicacies. It is wonderful to have someone who knows the local specialties do the ordering! Then we said goodbye and headed off to get settled into our apartment in Barcelona. But sure enough, like one of our excursions (led by a typical male who figured he could finesse his way into the city center), I got hopelessly lost. After about 45 minutes of aimless driving, I got a text from Miguel, saying, "if you need anything, do not hesitate to call". I did not hesitate - "help, Quel, we are terribly lost!" For the next 20 minutes, Miguel played the role of a virtual GPS, instructing us to turn around immediately (we were heading the wrong way, out of town) and he helped guide us back into the barrio gotico, where our apartment was. Oh what a relief to find our place - yet another leisurely drive to a new town becomes a stressful adventure! Ostia! The next day, we were invited to Miguel's apartment to spend a nice relaxing Sunday with his family and have a traditional Spanish mid-day meal. They have a beautiful and large apartment right near the University, with a nearby park, private pool, playground and tennis court (fairly unique in the center of a large city) where the kids could run around freely. Harkening back to old times, Miguel took me out to school me in tennis - something he used to do quite often at Homestead when we were on the team there. It didn't help that I haven't picked up a racquet in over 10 years! Later in the week, Suzanne and I met Miguel and Laura for a late night on the town in the Bario Gotico. Once again, we were treated to many Spanish delicacies - tapas to start the evening, followed by fresh anchovies in garlic oil, baby squid, morcilla, and a delicious tortilla (spanish omelete) with bacalao, onions and potatoes, topped off with a catalan rice pudding - all of which were fabulous. Both Miguel and Laura have had fascinating careers. They met in the university here in Barcelona, but both went to the east coast for graduate degrees. Miguel spent 10 years in the Spanish government as deputy Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs - not too shabby for an ex-Homestead alum! He showed us photos of him with Bush, Cheney (boo!), Colin Powel, Arafat, Putin and many other fascinating people. He has since left government life and is now heading up international development for the Spanish Automobile Association. Laura has also done well and just started a new job heading up Oncology R&D for a major hospital in Barcelona, with over 100 international clinical and scientific researchers under her watch. Suzanne's ears pricked up as she learned more about this, given her significant experience at Amgen managing oncology clinical teams. I only half-jokingly suggested she send her resume along to Laura - who knows, perhaps if the US job market is still in the tanks, perhaps another year in Espana might be warranted?!?! Furthermore, Barcelona has made significant investments in biotech research centers. Interesting to consider the possibilities... On our last morning, I went to visit Miguel at the Mercato de Boqueria, one of the largest food markets in all of Europe. It is a visual feast for the senses, with brightly colored and varied seafood and fruit/vegetable displays almost taking on an artistic flair. Miguel comes here every Saturday and buys food for the upcoming week: Fresh caught bonito filets, Sepia for arroz or fideua, monkfish steaks to be lightly breaded and pan-fried were just a few of the many options that day. Not to mention the berries, asparagus and artichokes that were in season. This is my kind of place! One interesting side note: Miguel said he would be there at 8:30 am which seemed awfully early by Spanish standards. When I started to push back to propose a later time to meet, he smirked and replied in a tone that might be inferred as sarcastic; "okay, Stevie, now I understand. You worked very hard for 15 years and now you need to rest. Please, take as much time as you need!" Miguel has had a hard time understanding how (and why) we've managed to walk away from our jobs and take a year off - in Spain, no less! He's a smart guy, he'll figure it out one day.

More Cycling Bliss

2009-02-10T03:38:00.000-08:00

While Javea has not turned out to be the quintessential Spanish town we might have hoped for, one of the key pleasures for me has been in the quality of the cycling in this region (Marina Alta). I have been pleasantly surprised to discover that a number of professional teams train out here during the winter. I have seen the Katusha (Russian), Post (Irish) and Vacances (Belgian) teams training through the local valleys earlier this year. It makes it all the more fun to go out riding because you never know who might show up. Furthermore, there seems to be lots of good local talent on the roads, which gives me all the more incentive to get in serious cycling shape. And the scenery really is spectacular. Now that the almond trees are in blossom and spring is in the air, the rides through the Jalon valley have been stunning and I enjoy the blend of steep mountain passes, lush valleys and quaint mountain towns (for an occasional pit stop). I have done some rides with the Club Ciclista Javea and have been introduced to the custom of enjoying a bocadillo, wine/beer and shot of espresso during the mid break on our rides - sure beats power bars and energy drinks!

Javea Windmills

2009-02-08T04:22:00.000-08:00

On a recent weekend, we headed across the valley to Cap San Antonio to explore the remains of Javea's windmills. Javea has the largest concentration of windmills found in the Marina Alta district, which were built in the 17th century to harness the wind to mill grain into flour. These basic structures have been partially restored and now sit like sentry posts guarding the town below. Although some are now on private land, we were able to walk through a number of them to get a better appreciation of what they must have been like when functioning.

Weather woes

2009-02-01T03:45:00.000-08:00

"I've lived here for 20 years, and this is the worst ___________ I have ever seen!" We hear this quote so often it is almost laughable, were it not for the fact that we are experiencing all of this at once. You name it - cold, clouds, rain (okay, except for the flash floods in 2007) and now wind. All setting local records. Yikes. Last week we had a wind storm that brought 75+mph winds. Javea was not built for this and hundreds upon hundreds of pine trees came down, causing widespread power outages and damage throughout the town. Signs were twisted or upended, tiles came off the roofs and canopies and garden pots were destroyed. In spite of crystal blue skies, we stayed indoors for fear of being struck by flying objects. Either there is something true to this global warming thing, or if you throw in the economic meltdown, perhaps this is a sign that the end is near! To be fair, this bizarre weather pattern is impacting all of Europe, not just Javea. When the weather is crappy here, it is often worse throughout all of Spain and the rest of EU (and apparently now the eastern US), but that is only a small consolation. It is ironic that we ruled out several great areas in Northern Spain part predominantly because of the weather - had we known things would be this bad, we pretty much could've lived just about anywhere. Oh well, chalk it up fate and perhaps another lesson learned. On the bright side, in spite of all our bad luck, it looks as if we might be turning the corner. Perhaps the weather "insurgents" are just lashing out at us - a sure sign that they are in the throes of defeat! Actually, spring looks like it will still come early to the Marina Alta as the almond and cherry trees are starting to blossom. In about a week or so, the valleys should be spectacular.

Feast of the 3 Kings.. yet another Christmas?!?!?

2009-01-06T03:28:00.000-08:00

January 5-6 marked the feast of the 3 Kings (Los Reyes), recognizing the arrival of the magis bearing gifts for baby Jesus. This is a special time for Spanish children as it is traditionally when gifts are exchanged. While the Spaniards also celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday, it is more a time for big meals with family and friends and very few if any gifts are exchanged. This year, our kids got to experience both Santa and Los Reyes. Yesterday in the marina there was a big town celebration marking the arrival of the 3 Kings on a fishing boat (apparently to tie to spirit of a coastal fishing village?). Each king was accompanied by an entourage of brightly decorated soldiers and revelers, loaded up with baskets of candy (caramelos) to toss out to the children who lined up along the streets. The kings got off their boats and mounted big white horses and the procession began its march into town, followed by the omnipresent town band and fireworks. After the parade, we headed home, where the kids laid out their shoes on the patio and placed a carrot in each one to feed the Kings' camels (or in this case- horses). In exchange, the Kings left gifts for the kids which turned out to more than fill their shoes! Our kids were delighted to wake up to yet another pile of wrapped gifts on the floor, which included gifts from their uncles, grandparents and cousins (things that we had no room for in Italy). It is safe to say that after 4 1/2 months, we have now accumulated a veritable cornucopia of toys for the kids for which we have no idea how will all get back to the states. And we still have several birthday parties coming this month! AAArrrggghhh! Thanks to the generosity of relatives and parental enthusiasm to honor both traditions of Christmas, we find our kids muttering; "crisis... what crisis???"

Conquering Montgo - My Turn!

2009-01-05T02:45:00.000-08:00

Hi I'm Kellen and this is how I conquered Montgo, I woke up in the morning and went to my dad's room and woke him up and he said 'Get back to bed!' But I really wanted to go, because Christian conquered Montgo. It made me sad that I didn't go - he got binoculars and a big celebration and it was like a birthday party. Mommy wanted to go too, but she was too tired. So daddy and I went. We walked down a road that we called "Medusa" because from up high the road looked like a witch with hairs coming out of her head. The road had dog poo on it and a lot of puddles on it too. I asked daddy if I could take a picture of it but in the end I decided I wouldn't. I felt scared to climb Montgo because it was going to be the first mountain I ever climbed and I didn't have any practice. We started climbing and found a map that was pretty big. As we got closer to the top, it was very rocky and they called this part the "backbone of the beast". I told daddy that it wasn't a beast - it was an elephant. When we were lower on the mountain it wasn't as rocky. I was getting tired and took ten breaks. My dad said that we were going to beat Christian by one minute and I started to race to the top. Turned out he was just tricking me to make me go faster. At the top it felt like I climbed Mt. Everest. It was a miracle! The views were excellent and we celebrated by having a big feast of snacks. There were two men at the top - we said hello and I took more pictures than daddy did. By the way, I had to go poo on the way up and my dad found some wet leaves to wipe my butt. On the way down, I didn't feel like racing. I took a wrong path with an X on it and slipped. I got a big red mark and my dad said that that was proof that I climbed Montgo. I was getting tired and was slipping on the rocks. It was a little scary and my feet hurt a lot. Next time I am going to wear my hiking boots. At the bottom, my dad gave me a piggy-back ride and he ran so fast it was like riding a horse. I promised my dad that I would kiss the floor when I got home. Mommy and Grandma Lou were very proud and I felt very happy and proud - like Christian when he came back. I didn't get binoculars though. Me and my daddy couldn't believe I could do it without training. He kept asking me if I wanted to turn back but I didn't! That is my story. The end.

Conquering Montgo

2009-01-04T00:12:00.000-08:00

"I climbed Montgo and that is the 2nd highest mountain in Alicante" - Christian Roy, January 2, 2009, Javea. After months of hard work, hours of preparation, broken promises, infighting at base camp, and a seemingly endless wait for the weather (and for daddy's New Year's hangover) to clear, we finally got a rare window of opportunity to make our ascent on the morning of January 2nd. Just one day after Christian made it his New Year's resolution to bag this formidable and elusive beast - and just two days shy of his 7th birthday - we found ourselves ready to seize the day. Every morning this past week, Christian has been waking up and looking pensively across the valley to the Montgo, wondering if today would be his day. One by one, the other promising climbers backed away from the challenge, until only Christian and his dutiful sherpa remained. As the summitting season was nearing its close, pressure was mounting on the climbers and the tension weighed on the camp like a wet wool blanket in the cold, damp Javea air. A sliver of dawn peaked out across the horizon as we packed our bags, kissed our loved ones goodbye, and headed for the trailhead. The fog hung thick across the valley as we drove through the orange groves in silence, wondering if we had what it would take to summit and return... Today, fate was on our side and the mountain gods smiled upon us as we began our ascent. Christian was more than prepared and he bolted up towards the summit with hardly any need for rest along the way. I had planned for 2 1/2 hours, but we made it in less than 1:45 - plenty of time to relax and enjoy the views from the top, savoring our accomplishment. I must admit his agility surprised me, particularly on the rocky scramble at the base of the summit. Sure, he started to poop out towards the end, but by then we were only a couple hundred yards from the car and adrenaline more than compensated for his tired little legs. It was great to watch him parade into base camp a hero - he was so proud and couldn't wait to share his accomplishment with everyone. I too, was a very proud sherpa, and it looks like I might have at least one budding backpack partner in the mix - perhaps sooner than anyone might have anticipated!

Florence Wrap-up

2009-01-03T22:32:00.000-08:00

During the last few days of our trip we let the kids play with their new toys in the plazas, held dance parties in the apartment and did some last minute shopping/exploring. We also made a trip to the Pitti Palace, but I think everyone was pretty much burnt out on the museum thing. On our last day, we ended up doing some interesting side trips. I woke up early and caught a bus to a small town called Fiesole, about 8 Km outside of town. Fiesole is set high in the hills above Florence, with fantastic views below and is studded with beautiful Italian villas throughout the countryside. It feels very different from the hustle and bustle of Florence, but is amazingly close. The town is built on a site of both Roman and Etruscan ruins which are quite fascinating. The town was extremely quiet when I arrived and I was the first person to enter the historical sites. It was a cold, blustery day, and it felt kind of eerie to walk through the ruins without anyone around. It was also strange to have 2 museum curators follow me through the museum the whole time I was there (seems my profile or perhaps my goatee made them nervous). Basically, I blasted through the the town, harkening my post-college days of whirlwind "Let's Go" backpacking trips through Europe, where visits to towns would often be measured in hours. Not exactly a way to soak up the culture, but Fiesole was well worthwhile. I hustled back to the apartment, and we made our way to the train station to catch our flight from Pisa. In a similar manner, Suzanne and her mom decided to take the kids to the Leaning Tower (hey, you can't stop in Pisa without a trip to the Leaning Tower), while I babysat our 10 bags at the airport and made sure we cleared the weight limits for our @#$%^ luggage, which was loaded up with Christmas presents, purses, scarves and museum books. The kids came back from the Leaning Tower a bit disappointed, as I think we may have led them to believe that it was really about to fall down - they told me it wasn't really leaning all that much. Kids can be hard to please! Finally, after a day of buses, cabs, trains, planes and automobiles (in that order), we finally made it back to Javea - tired, but satisfied from a very good trip. Viva la adventura!!!

Christmas Day, Florence

2008-12-30T22:18:00.000-08:00

Sure enough, the old guy came and our tiny tree was overwhelmed with colorful packages. Given that Santa had to get through customs (he apparently is not an EU citizen), he could not bring too many gifts on this special day. But not to fret – there would be more gifts waiting in Spain when the Three Kings arrived on Jan 5 (more on that later). The kids didn’t seem to mind and were thrilled to play with their dragons, dolls and “neo-shifters”. At about mid-day, I decided to head out with Lou (Suzanne’s mom) for Christmas Mass at Santa Maria Novella, one of the prettiest churches in Florence. Lou’s only request was that we not walk too far, as her knees were bothering her. I told her not to worry, it was just a few blocks up the street. Now which street was that again? Venturing out without a map was NOT one of my finest decisions. We headed out in the general direction of the church, but a funny thing about streets in Italy – they don’t exactly run parallel. Some 20-odd blocks later and a lot of complaining from Lou, we started to hear church bells, but still could not see the church. When we finally found it, we were on the wrong side and had to walk 3 blocks further before we finally made it to the entrance. Sitting next to Lou, the church felt suddenly quite cold, and no amount of Hail Mary’s could warm things up. On the bright side, it was really beautiful church and we had the unique opportunity to view it fully lit up during mass. When mass ended, the guards came out to make sure we didn’t mingle too long or take pictures. We headed back home, this time on the right street. On learning that it really was only 4 blocks from the house, Lou swung her hand and hit me hard across the arm, causing my camera to fly into the street. She told me in the true Italian spirit of Christmas, she was saving a wack for my other arm! We returned home for a great Italian spread – risotto, proscuitto, strachino cheese, fresh bread, spaghetti with pomodora sauce, wine, olives, etc. and had a wonderful family feast. After relaxing in the apartment and taking the kids out to a plaza to play with their toys, we went out late that evening for a great Christmas dinner. The kids even got a small glass of champagne to celebrate and finished off the evening with huge scoops of fresh gelato and lightly fermented apple juice. Although thoroughly full at this point, Suzanne, Lou and I could not resist the homemade Italian almond cookies and poached pears in red wine with chocolate. Heaven!

Christmas Eve in Florence – Man’s Search for Fire(wood)

2008-12-30T22:17:00.000-08:00

We didn’t quite realize how wonderful Florence was during Christmastime. It was no colder than Javea and we were blessed with crystal blue skies during the day. At night, all the streets were strung with lights, which glowed along with the colorful window displays in the shops. People were out and about, bundled up in their fancy wool coats, scarves and furs and it was a lively and festive atmosphere. In reality, it had taken us quite a while to get into the Christmas spirit. We didn’t get a tree since we were heading to Florence and the little plastic “Charlie Brown” version left by the property manager didn’t do much to get us in the mood. But the lights outside certainly did. I made a few forays through town in the hopes of finding a Christmas tree, but there were none to be found within the city center. Charlie Brown would have to suffice. Another puzzling thing was that there was no firewood to be found in all of Florence. One of my fondest childhood memories was huddling around a big fire with my family on Christmas Eve and I was hellbent on finding some wood. The “duraflame” style logs that they sell out here barely hold a flame and frankly didn’t work, even after dousing for hours with lighter fluid. I tried everywhere I could think of, but kept walking away, rejected. Nobody even had a suggestion for where I might find some. I even trekked out several miles to a lumber store, but they were closing for Christmas and turned me away. To not be able to procure firewood at a lumber store of all places was ultimate humiliation. However, as the man / “provider and protector” of my family, I was not going to let this setback bring me down. While mere mortals might have let the fire thing go at this point, I would ultimately prevail. It was time to beg… Now which of these restaurants has a fireplace or pizza oven??? I stopped in at the Dante Restaurant where we had dined the previous night. The owner was very kind and gave me 4 large logs and I hauled them home with a bounce in my step, whistling Christmas songs along the way. It didn’t even matter that the house filled with smoke, nor that the kids only had about 30 minutes to enjoy the fire before they had to turn in. We had a real fire on Christmas Eve. We laid out a dish of traditional Italian cookies and a glass of milk and headed to bed, anxious to see if Santa would make the long trek to Italy.

Enjoying Florence – What Museums?...Where’s the Gelato?!?

2008-12-30T22:16:00.000-08:00

While Kim was here, we eased our way into a routine of waking up slowly, having a nice Italian latte (gotta love the coffee here) and then heading out to one of the many sites in town. Afterwards we would usually take a late lunch and then relax or shop in the afternoon before heading out for dinner at night. And somewhere along the way we would always squeeze in a stop for gelato. Frankly, the kids haven’t quite developed their palates for fine art, so the museums weren’t a big hit on this trip. If anyone, Kellen seemed to get the most out of it and by the end of our week, he carried a little notepad and would draw whatever caught his attention. For the most part, they seemed to enjoy seeing Michelangelo’s David but were more interested in any depiction of monsters or versions of hell (e.g. a section of the cupola in the Duomo). We took them to a Medusa exhibit outside the Ufizi, but they were disappointed that there was only one good depiction of the snakes on her head. They also got a kick out of climbing the 472 steps of the Campinela and seeing the views of Florence from above. We usually only had enough energy and patience (kids and adults alike) to hit one or two sites each day and decided not to push things. Hopefully, they got enough out of Florence to want to return again someday. When the evenings came, the real fun began – eating! The beauty of Florence is that it is almost impossible to have a bad meal here. Or a bad bottle of wine, for that matter. By far, our favorite experience was at “Il Latini” right up the street from us. We walked in to a cozy place with hams hanging everywhere. They saw we had 3 kids and promptly escorted us to a back room which at first was empty. We figured they wanted to keep the kids out of sight, but the room eventually filled to capacity. What was beautiful about this place is that I don’t think we ever looked at a menu. They just started bringing us things – plates of proscuitto, insalate caprese, crostini with chicken livers (delicious!) followed by 3 different pasta dishes. By the time the roasted lamb and beef came, we could hardly eat any more. The place was loud, raucous and fun and we loved the “don’t worry, we’ll take care of you” attitude to dining. We finished off our evening with a vin santo and biscotti followed by a nice limoncello and they even gave us a bottle of their house wine to take home. Had they not closed the next day for their Christmas Holiday, we definitely would have come back. The next night, Suzanne, Kim and I went out to another osteria while Lou fended for herself with the kids back at the apartment. At first our waiter was curt and somewhat rude, but we realized he didn’t speak English. After a while, another waiter recognized the situation and took over our table. He was animated and funny and he took a liking to Kim – touching her hair and giving her shoulder massages while he waited on us. Once again, we were treated after the meal with Italian liqueurs and a bag of biscotti on the house. It certainly pays to have pretty women at your table in Italy! Come to think of it, I definitely got props and admiring stares from the wait-staff as I walked in with a woman on each arm. It didn’t even matter that I was a foreigner – they just respect such things in Italy.

Back in Heaven, Florence, Italy

2008-12-30T22:11:00.000-08:00

After spending a quick night in Pisa, we had a nice breakfast at the hotel and caught a train to Florence. Interestingly, the cab fare to get us 10 minutes to the train station cost as much as the entire family traveling one hour by train to Florence! It didn’t help that our family of six (including Suzanne’s mom) needed two taxis. You would think that we learned from our experience getting over to Europe from the States, but no, we still had to manage 10 bags between us. (Although our biggest suitcase was packed with Christmas gifts, supplies and wrapping paper). For me, that is one of the most stressful parts of traveling – especially with little kids who don’t always listen particularly well. We got to the Vigna Nuova street, but our apartment wasn’t ready, so we ducked into a small deli-style café down the street to grab a bite and wait. It was a small, crowded place, and we got lots of funny looks hauling in all of our bags and piling them up around us as if we were building a fort. Yikes, the ugly Americans return… I pointed to a number of items at the counter and soon we were feasting on a delicious sweet onion risotto, a fresh pasta lasagna, and focaccia with prosciutto, arrugula and a deliciously soft, tangy cheese called “strachino”. Ahhh, Italia!!!! Every single thing we tried was delicious and it suddenly dawned on me that the Coastal Spanish palate left a lot to be desired. There is only so much paella and calamari that one can eat. Apparently, Suzanne felt this way pretty much from the start, but I guess I was a bit slower to catch on. Kim met us at the café and we were thrilled to have her with us, even for a short time. We got to our apartment and settled in. While it was a bit old and in need of updating (read: historic 17th century palace?), the main room was huge and had a large fireplace – perfect for lounging around without feeling like we were on top of each other. We got settled in and then ventured out to explore the town. We were back in heaven, to be in the center of a vibrant city with history, culture and fashion. Once again, a shocking contrast to our experience in Javea – which seems to have more businesses shut down than open and about as much culture as you would find in one city block in Florence. Hey, at least here when the weather sucks, you can always duck into a museum or palace and ogle a Botticeli or a Raphael painting! And for stunning architecture, you just can’t beat the Duomo. It truly seemed that all paths lead us past the Duomo, and it appeared almost surreal in the low winter light. We would end up spending lots of time in the plazas around the Duomo, be it to rest our weary legs or to let our kids run around and burn off some energy. Not a bad place to play, but I’m not sure our kids quite realize how lucky they are!

Getting ready for Christmas, Florence, Italy

2008-12-30T22:07:00.000-08:00

Ahhh, Italia….I must admit that we had many images of our move to Europe and one of the top ones is of living like the Italians. There is something distinct about Italy that is unmatched by any other European country we have seen. Some call it romantic, others call it “la dolce vita”, but whatever you want to call it, it is something very special. Getting here was another story, however. We had booked a villa in the Tuscan countryside outside of Cortona through our vacation club, only to find out that our club had fallen victim to the economic meltdown and was suddenly on the verge of bankruptcy. To help dig themselves out, they decided to abandon their Tuscany property. It’s one thing to passively observe our investment portfolio decline and hear periodic bad news from the States, but it is entirely different when you are slapped in the face from abroad. Our plane tickets were already booked, and Suzanne’s mom as well as her best friend, Kim Michelson were on their way out so we had to quickly scramble and figure out another plan. After a lengthy search on the internet, we found a large apartment in the heart of Florence. Housing 7 people in a city is not easy - as most European living quarters tend to be small - but apartment living by far beats any hotel options. Our place was located on one of the finest shopping streets in Florence, Vigna Nuova – home to Guicci, Prada, Versace, Gianfranco Ferre, Dolce&Gabbana etc.. Virtually every big name designer was within mere minutes walking distance. While Suzanne was absolutely thrilled, I on the other hand was mortified. The thought of us walking by these shops every day was more frightening to me than just about anything!

Valencia Weekend

2008-12-09T10:16:00.000-08:00

Well, in spite of a number of Christmas activities in town, Javea has been feeling quite...small. And freaking cold. After a week of temperatures that barely broke 10 degrees Celcius and the never-ending bureacratic hassles to get our in-floor heating to work, it seemed like a great idea to get the heck out of here - perhaps recapturing a bit of the magic of Santiago? After going back and forth about where to go (Cuenca? Granada?) we finally settled on Valencia. Though only 1 1/4 hours away, it is the 3rd largest city in Spain and we haven't spent any time there yet. Besides, the thought of traveling far did not seem appealing. So we booked an apartment, packed the bags and headed for the Ciudad de las Artes y Sciencias to kick off the trip. This "city" is a vast complex of super modern buildings spread out over a huge area near the port. Our first stop was the science exposition center, where it was prohibited NOT to touch the exhibits. The highlight was the room of mutant animals where we saw a three legged chicken and twin goats and pigs that each shared one head, oh - and the three horned ram head! We told Casey that this is what happens when you marry your brothers. They also had a Marvel Comics exhibit, which interestingly was the same one we did with the kids in LA about 3 years ago but interestingly, they didn't seem to remember it. Yikes - I wonder what they will ultimately take away from their experience in Spain... There was a cute little kids construction area, where children could put on hard hats and pretend to build things, which kept them quite occupied. What we didn't count on, however, was that everyone was getting colds, and they pooped out pretty quickly. So off we headed to our apartment in the Barrio del Carmen, an area described as "funky and hip". What they forgot to mention was "run-down and grafitti-laden"! We parked the car in a very sketchy area, with drunks strolling the street and broken bottles everywhere. I went off to meet the rental people and we finally found our place - adjacent to a very colorful gremlin picture on a carport door below. Turned out the apartment was much more comfortable and nicer than the surroundings might have indicated, but we will likely choose another area next time around. Day 2 was a busy one - first off to the Oceanografic center - the largest marine park in Europe. As it was the middle of a holiday weekend, the place was packed and we seemed to be fighting our way through the crowds. Given all the aquariums we have seen, the kids did not seem terribly impressed and we ended up leaving early to get some food (as all the restaurants inside were packed to the gills). We headed to our next stop, the port where "Cavalia" was playing - basically a Cirque de Soleil show on horseback. Although the show has been getting rave reviews, both Suzanne and I enjoyed previous Cirques much more. Unless you absolutely love horses, this show is a bit slow. Let's face it, horses can't do backflips, and we became tired of watching them prance around backwards. Sure it was cool when they raced across the stage with the riders barely hanging on, but otherwise this show left us wanting more. Christian fell asleep halfway through and we were all weary by the time we got home. A good lesson for future trips - don't try to take on more than one big event per day, especially with sick kids. When we got back to the apartment and put the kids to bed, I walked out through the barrio del Carmen and it seemed much more lively and inviting than the previous night. There were all kinds of cool bars, lounges and restaurants. At 9:30, the places were just opening up, but the barrio was already full of people grabbing copas (glasses of wine) and tapas. Suzanne and I will have to get plenty of rest and come back another time without kids, as this looked like a great place to explore - reminded me a bit of the Mission district in San Francisco. Day 3 was to be another challenge - first the Circo Mundial and then an IMAX movie show. We had a relaxing, lazy breakfast at the apartment and then headed to the circus. This was one of three circuses in town, but offered an interesting mix of acts from well-known circuses around the world. There is something decidedly "un-PC about the circus - angry lions, hungry crocodiles in boxes, violent clowns and hoola-hooping bears among other amazing sights. I'm not sure a circus could be this "old-school" in the states anymore. Needless to say, it was quite enjoyable and the kids loved it. For me, at 1/4 the price of Cavalia, it was worth every penny! The IMAX show (Les Alpes) was very well done, but not particularly unique, save for getting completely soaked in a torrential downpour trying unsuccessfully to get there in time. In spite of staying in the heart of the older part of town, we didn't see too many historical sites this time around, given nobody had much energy for exploring (due to the kids colds and continuous heavy rain). Something to plan for on our next trip back. This trip was more about shows and exhibits - in fact it felt quite like being a tourist in LA, save for the fact that we only heard one family speaking english the whole weekend and the driving is perhaps even more stressful than LA as nobody pays any attention to staying within lanes. To say it is a free-for-all on the roads is an understatement! We were lucky to get out with only one parking ticket and one near collision.

Day Trip to Guadalest

2008-11-18T05:38:00.000-08:00

We awoke to a spectacularly clear day and decided to take a drive up to Guadalest, a very small pueblo up in the hills above Calpe that is built literally into the rock. Perched almost 600 metres above sea-level, the houses and Castell (castle) of Guadalest overlook a wide valley which is bordered by the mountains (sierras) of Aitana, Serrella and Xorta. The Castell and the original houses of the village were built by the Moors during the Arab occupation (8th to 13th Centuries) and were accessible (as they remain today), only by way of a 15 metre long tunnel, carved in solid rock. Guadalest developed as an agricultural area, aided by the terracing of the mountain slopes and by irrigation systems put in place by the Arabs. The Moors were able to take advantage of this rocky setting to fend off the Christian attacks far longer than in other Moorish strongholds. I felt both tired and queasy as we made our way up the winding, twisty road to the town. It didn't help that I was out until 3:30 am the previous night (dinner till ~1 am and off to the bars afterwards) with some Spaniards from my gym class - and I was one of the first to leave the bars! I later learned that the rest of the group stayed up until about 6:00 am. Every time I start thinking I can hang with the Spaniards, I am proven wrong! As much as I would have liked to use the excuse that I am an old man, the truth is that some of them were as old if not older than me! This kind of partying must take years and years of training/conditioning. When do these people sleep? Fortunately for all of us, Guadalest was small and surprisingly uncrowded, so we took a nice leisurely stroll through one of the original homes and through the castell before having a quick bocadillo lunch in the pueblo and heading back home. This is definitely an area that warrants further exploration!

Exploring Cap San Antonio, Javea

2008-11-04T05:32:00.000-08:00

We woke up to a huge rainstorm in Javea the morning after getting back from Santiago. Yikes, more rain? Then suddenly, the clouds blew past as quickly as they came in and the sun came out. It was almost shocking to see blue skies after so much foul weather in October. Perhaps this was a good sign for the rest of November... We packed up the kids and headed just over to the far side of town (above the port) to Cap San Antonio, where the lighthouse is situated. Kellen had gone there on a school field trip a while back and he wanted to go back to the "diamond mine" (an inconsequential pile of quartz crystals) to collect some more diamonds. So off we went, enjoying the sun and the spectacular views of the mediterranean and the town below. As much as we loved Santiago, it was nice to be reminded of the stunning vistas in our own backyard.

La Coruna, Galicia, as told by Christian Roy

2008-11-04T04:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Daddy made us drive on a long car trip to go to the tower of Hercules. Hercules helped build it with the Romans but he wasn’t there today. We climbed to the top, but the workers were cleaning it and it smelled funny. We also went to the aquarium and we saw an octopus called “el pulpo” and the octopus got into the tank from the ocean water. When they get in, they can’t get out and there were so many jellyfish that they were going in a circle because the other jellyfish were coming and they couldn’t get out. In the other tank of jellyfish, one jellyfish got its tentacles on the other one. We saw another jellyfish that was dead and in a jar. And there was a seahorse that was very little and some freaky starfishes that were hairy. And then we saw something on TV, there was an eel that looked white and the shark was trying to eat it – and I think it was an electric eel. And there was a shark swimming in the water and it was going to eat a human, but it got the fish instead. Then Mommy, Kellen and Casey ate "el pulpo" at the restaurant. Yuch!!!! I went to the aquarium store and I bought a seal and named him “Santiago” - Santiago is the name of Saint James in Spanish. He was a powerful guy.

31st Carreira Pedestre Popular Camino De Santiago

2008-11-02T03:14:00.001-08:00

On our first night in Santiago I came across a flyer for a run to take place the following morning. I figured it might be fun to at least run part of the race. What I didn’t fully realize is that was one of the biggest public running events in all of Spain with almost 7,000 participants. The town completely shut down that Sunday morning- the route would wind its way through the entire town, covering 12.5 kilometers in total. As the masses gathered at the starting line, it was clear that this was a huge event. I stood back a ways from the starting area to admire the crowd and could feel the buildup of energy as the race was about to begin. . And what an experience it turned out to be... It took a few minutes after the gun went off to finally get through the starting gate and start running, and as I looked around, I could see countless waves of participants moving in unison, many of whom were talking, cheering or just smiling. After a few kilometers, the mass of runners began to quiet down and disperse a bit and people began to find their paces. As I was not running for a time, I decided to just soak it all in and enjoy this incredibly unique tour of Santiago. People were lined up along the streets cheering us along and I was quickly caught up in the excitement. I picked up my pace and decided that I was going to finish this after all – who knows when I might get a chance like this again. As we started working our way into the “casco antiguo”, I started to recognize some of the streets. To my pleasant surprise we were suddenly headed right past the plaza where our apartment was located and as I looked up I could see Casey standing on the balcony. “Hola Casey-cita!”, I shouted and waved as we passed by and I could see the thrilled look on her face when she recognized me and shouted, “Daddy!!!!!!!” and promptly ran inside to get her brothers. The crowds began to swell as the streets narrowed, and soon we were in the heart of old town, heading through the historic city center. I got goosebumps as we passed the last kilometer towards the finish line at the Praza do Obradoiro with everyone screaming and cheering. It was an exhilarating experience to finish in the main plaza. As I learned the following day, several top runners described the race as, “El ultimo es el kilometro mas bello del mundo” (the finish is the most beautiful kilometer in the world). The paper also stated that over 50,000 people had lined up to watch the race and cheer the participants. So much for a simple Sunday jog through town! Footnote: Interestingly, of the top 5 men and women finishers, all were from Africa - predominantly Kenya. David Kilel, the men’s winner clocked in at a stunning 34:47 (almost a half an hour faster than me!), and 3 of the men finished under 35 minutes. Also, after the main race, there was a kid’s run. Kellen and Christian wanted to participate, so we waited outside our apartment for the majority of the serious runners to pass by and then jumped on the course for a bit. As the kids turned the corner and saw the cheering crowds, they got very shy and decided to stop running. We pulled off the course and jogged a few blocks down a much quieter side street until they got tired. Casey on the other hand, was not to be shown up by “her boys”. On our return, she decided to give it a try and we headed off together holding hands. Unlike the boys, she was spurred on by the cheering crowds and probably made it 1 km, before I finally decided that the limelight should be focused properly on the final finishers and not on this very cute 4 year old “imposter” who had hardly broken a sweat!

Santiago de Compostela, Galicia

2008-11-02T02:28:00.000-08:00

Ah…Santiago de Compostela – the final site on the pilgrimage to St. James Cathedral - or “Santiago’s Town”, as Casey likes to call it. Now THIS is Spain. Or at least this is the romantic image of Spain that we remember from previous trips, an image which led us to uproot ourselves and move all the way out this way. The guidebooks refer to Santiago as one of the more beautiful cities in all of Spain and they are absolutely right. Quite possibly the finest week of our adventure – one that has given us a moment to pause and reflect on what this trip is really about for us. Suzanne and I were vividly reminded of our trip through Extramadura many years ago, staying in the heart of old medieval towns, exploring the rich history, culture and cuisine that these towns have to offer. On some very good advice from our new friends Scott and Dee from Boulder (one of few American families also doing an adventure year), we booked an apartment right in the old town of Santiago. The week started off a bit auspiciously as we woke up the morning of our departure to torrential rains. Suzanne had heard that Santiago was one of the rainiest spots in Galicia and we were already growing weary of the rain in Javea. The prospect of spending a week’s vacation in even more rain while cramped in a small apartment with 3 kids sounded quite grim. The night before we had a wonderful dinner with our neighbors Richard and Carmen, and in true Spanish fashion, didn’t get home with the kids until almost 2 am! So needless to say, we were all just a bit cranky that morning. Fortunately, our flight worked out smoothly and to our surprise, we landed in Santiago under perfectly blue skies. How ironic that the town with 300 days of rain a year would be sunnier than the town which “claims” 300 days of sunshine! After the usual confusion that seems to be inevitable when trying to drive into a historic city center, we finally found our apartment and were once again pleasantly surprised. The apartment was huge, with 3 bedrooms, lots of open space and plenty of light. It was situated on the corner of a quaint little plaza right across from the Universitad Santiago de Compostela (yes, this is the real USC!) philosophy building and another apartment/hotel which once housed Ernest Hemingway. History was all around us and we were just a few streets over from the Praza do Obradoiro with its baroque and stunningly beautiful Cathedral. Our vision of living in Spain came to life, with shops and markets all around us selling local produce, cheeses wines and pastries (of particular note an almond cake called Tarta de Santiago) as well as wonderful, cozy restaurants with traditional Galician specialties. Oh and in spite of its touristic nature, it is seemingly empty of Brits and their EU expat counterparts. Seems like we have found our own little slice of heaven here in Santiago’s town!

Moors and Christians...again?, Calpe

2008-10-20T07:30:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like the king of festivals might be ready to call it quits for a while! Given that Kellen and Suzanne immediately balked at me when I suggested heading to Calpe for their version of Moors and Christians - I knew it would not be long before the whole family revolted. Casey and Christian were still lured by the promise of ice cream when we got there and besides, Christian is still intrigued with any festival that has his name in it!. So off we went to Calpe. This festival seemed particularly interesting because; 1) it is the actual site where the Moors originally landed to invade Spain and 2) it is a mock battle staged on the beach. The kids were more interested in playing on a pirate ship on the beach, so I let them hang out there for a while. Soon we could see a number of ships heading towards the main beach and extremely loud explosions were set off from canisters on shore. As the ships pulled in, the crowd of "Christians" lined up along the beach to meet their assailants. When the "Moors" disembarked, the guns started going off and the Moors slowly pushed back the Christians, who ultimately retreated toward the main town. The Moor King brought up the rear with his brightly colored garb and loud guns as they followed the Christians through the town. This whole process lasted at least an hour, but we quickly grew tired of the loud explosions and decided to enjoy the rest of our morning on the beach eating ice cream while the town remained under siege.

In Search for the World's Largest Paella, Jalon

2008-10-20T07:05:00.000-07:00

What would our weekends be without a festival? Today, we headed off to Jalon a small picturesque town in the hills east of us, where they were celebrating a feast of some patron saint or virgin or something (they all start to blend together after a while). We had read that they were hosting a giant paella, and that alone seemed to be worth the drive as we were getting hungry. They were just setting up and we came across quite a spectacle - a truly giant paella pan filled with savory paella. Perhaps not the world's largest, but enough to feed a small town. For us however, the festival turned out to be a bust - you needed tickets to be served and they were already sold out. It looked like the entire town had shown up and set up tables in the streets around the main plaza. Bummer. We stood around for a while drooling as they started serving up mounds o' paella to the locals - it looked and smelled delicious.

Hiking to the Castell La Granadella

2008-10-11T23:07:00.000-07:00

Christian and Casey have now firmly established themselves as the hikers of the family! On a cloudy Saturday, the three of us headed out to Granadella cove to see if we could find the ruins of the Castle of La Granadella, The Castell was small outpost hidden on the cliff above the cove, which formed part of the Valencian coastal defense system on the Southern border of Javea. This area had been assaulted by North African pirates since the time of the Christian conquest of the Moors. We started down at the beach, where there were some rather large waves due to the recent stormy weather (yes another week of rain in the forecast!). From there it was a several Km hike up to the cliffs above. Christian led the hike for the most part, although he had trouble leaving his team behind. It became a game for the kids to be the first to find the trail markers - yellow and white parallel stripes - placed strategically along the rocks and trees ahead. There was not much left of the castle, which had been slowly deteriorating over time, but that didn't stop the kids from making up stories of pirates, dragons and princesses. By now, it was well past lunch, we hurried back, spurred on by images of a large angry dragon on our tail, and a gang of angry pirates preparing for their attack down at the beach below.

A Lesson in Patience II - How to get a Residency Card in 37 Easy Steps!

2008-10-10T23:32:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I think the Spanish bureaucracy has finally gotten the better of me. Since we left part 1 of this post, we thought we had all the paperwork we needed for our year residency. Apparently, we had been given some bad advice (from the "Advice Center" of all places!) After several innocent calls to clarify an issue around a driver permit, I learned that we absolutely needed to establish residency formally through the National Police in Alicante. But now we were officially past our 1 month deadline to do this. Aaaarrrggghhhhh!!!!!!!! Technically we only have permission to be in the EU for 90 days without our residencia - although many people are living here without one and we are not at all clear about how strongly this rule is enforced. That being said, I did not want our adventure year to be cut short due to a technicality. What ensued was a frenzy of calls to an immigration lawyer and other residencia "specialists", notarized spanish letters, pleas to the US consulate in Valencia and several weeks of frustration and worry with no responses. At the end of the day, people do not have a lot of experience here working with US visitors, and there apparently was not an easy shortcut, save for going down in person and figuring it out. To make matters worse, nobody in the Spanish government will speak English, so I was definitely challenged given the magnitude of what we were trying to do. I had images of standing for hours in long lines begging and pleading only to hear my favorite Spanish quote... "that is not possible" fired back at me. Armed with every document in our possession, I embarked at 5:30 am to Alicante and wait with the masses. In spite of getting up so early to get in front of the line, I was shocked to find over 300 people already there, many of whom were in sleeping bags. As it turned out, almost all of them had pre-standing appointments to be there on that day. To make matters worse, I wasn't sure if I was even in the right place! After standing for 4 1/2 hours in a long line that never moved, I ended up giving up and making my way to the bureaucratic headquarters to see if I could at least talk with somebody who could give me SOME information. After waiting several hours in yet another queue, I finally got in and made my plea for help. Finally a small win - I was able to obtain additional documents that we needed for our residencia. However the glow of this win faded when I was told to go back to the place I had futilely waited at earlier. Oh, and be sure to bring your family! AAArrrrgggghhhh!!!

Volvo Ocean Race, Alicante

2008-10-04T15:34:00.000-07:00

Second only to the America’s Cup in poularity, the Ocean Race is by far the most grueling and challenging sailing race in the world. Formerly known as the Whitbred Round the World Race and often referred to as the "Mt. Everest of Sailing", 8 teams of 11 men per boat will head out on Oct 11 to circumnavigate the world, with their first stop in Cape Town, South Africa. This was the first time that the race would launch from the Mediterranean, and Alicante (about 85 KM Southwest of us) was selected to host this international event. They pulled out all the stops to put this picturesque seaside city on the map, building a huge race village on the port, with activities, an in-port regatta, demonstrations, concerts and exhibits. On the day we visited there were also a number of activities designed for the kids, such as musical chairs, sack races, face painting and a “bucking surfboard”. While a bit too crowded to see everything, Kellen summed up the day nicely – “Daddy, I didn’t think I would, but I actually had a lot of fun today!” It probably didn’t hurt that he won a tee-shirt at the sack races...

Festival de Degustacion (Tapas Festival), Javea

2008-10-04T15:21:00.000-07:00

Alright - for the record I am officially redeeming myself as the self-proclaimed “king of fiestas”. Suzanne and the kids cringed when I suggested we go into town for yet another festival (“I mean seriously, Steve, do we really have to go to every single one of these things?!?!”), but this one turned out to be a nice treat. Approximately 12 restaurants were on hand and each offered 2-3 specialty tapas plates for 1 euro each. We tried some fabulous dishes – albondigas with grilled peppers, lamb stew, toasted rice fritter in squid ink topped with a fried quail egg, black lentils with quail, and vegetable tortilla (like a frittata) were just a few of the highlights, along with some fantastic deserts. Even the kids seemed to like most of what we tried and they enjoyed the festive atmosphere. It was one of the best meals we’ve had while here, and kilo for kilo, was by far the best deal in town. We tend to spend Euro coins (~$1.50) like they were quarters, but this was the one thing I had no problem spending on. I strolled past the booths with a big grin – this was one of those memorable and enjoyable experiences that reminded us why we are here!

Cueva de las Calaveras, Benidoleig

2008-10-03T04:33:00.000-07:00

About 30 minutes outside of town, we came upon the “cave of the skulls” a huge cavern that used to be an underground aquifer in the limestone hills just outside the pueblo of Benidoleig. The cave has grown in size as the water has steadily receded due to agricultural demands over the years. An interesting historical display outlined all the different uses of this cave since the prehistoric time through the present. At one time during WWII, soldiers used the cave to store food and repair aircraft engines. And yes, they found many skulls inside the cave. The cave went back about 1-2 kms, where it finally became impassable due to underground water. A team of scuba divers is currently mapping the further regions of the cave. The kids enjoyed walking through the cave and were a bit spooked by the eerie caverns deep inside, but now say it’s one of their favorite places. Casey keeps asking to invite one of her schoolmates to the cave on a playdate!

Moors and Christians Festival, Altea

2008-09-29T12:43:00.000-07:00

We have come to learn that the Spanish have a festival for just about everything, and Moors vs. Christians is one of the bigger fiestas held in each town. In short, this festival commemorates the takeover of Spain by the Moors and their subsequent decline at the hands of the Christians, some 800 hundred years later. At the festival in Altea (a picturesque whitewashed village perched on a seafront hillside about ½ hours south of us) we witnessed the first enactment of the drama - the Moors overthrowing the Christians. This was held in the town square at the base of the church plaza, where they had constructed a small stage/castle where the Christians were holed up. The Moors came parading into town with their brightly colored tunics and headdresses – some as villagers, some as soldiers and some as royalty. We had arrived just as the procession was winding its way to the town plaza and joined in right in the middle of the always present marching band. As we worked our way to the front, started to get pretty loud. The soldiers were leading the way, firing large muskets filled to the brim with gunpowder into the air. As the procession entered the square, their muskets really started going off, with echoes bouncing off the walls of the plaza like ping pong balls. There was soot in the air and all of us had our fingers jammed into our ears so as not to go deaf. At some point they called off the fire and what ensued was a dialog between the Moorish King and his Christian counterpart. My ears were still ringing and I can’t say I understood much of what they were saying. I was secretly hoping they were speaking in Arabic, but it is more likely that my Spanish is not yet up to snuff to follow such quick dialog. Whatever it was, the Moors did not appear appeased and the guns started going off again. We figured at this point to concede victory to the Moors and make our way to a quieter locale and get some food – not an easy task given that virtually every shop was closed during festival week. Suzanne shook her head and said to me with a laugh; “You and your festivals! They may be interesting, but there is always something odd about them.” I guess we’ll skip the Christians wrestling back control on Monday…

Nobody told us about the Monsoons!

2008-09-29T12:39:00.000-07:00

The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain…and in Javea. In just about every place we’ve ever been, September is the nicest time of year – not too hot, not too cold, changing light patterns, etc. – but we have experienced something quite new while we are here. We are now on day 7 of rains, some of which have at times been torrential. Lots of cool thunder and lightning storms as well. People have mentioned in passing that rains can be heavy at times here, but we figured they wouldn’t start until much later. As it turns out, the rainy season kicks off in mid-September and we have no idea how long it lasts. For a region that boasts over 300 days of sunshine a year, they sure don’t mess around with the other 65! Last October, they had one of the worst rains on record. Cars were submerged under water, rivers turned to muddy rapids and overflowed their banks and the sea surged into town leaving boats and debris in its wake. Given that we still have no television signal, (for Steve a blessing from heaven), we went into town yesterday to buy a bunch of “rainy day” games and toys for the family. As far as we’re concerned, Christmas came on September 27th!

Hiking along the Cap Prim - Portixol

2008-09-23T22:18:00.000-07:00

Just a five minute walk from the boy's school exists a wonderful hiking area along the coast at the base of the Creu (Cross) de Portixol. Christian, Casey and I headed out on Sunday to explore this area further. The walk took us past some lovely villas on the hilltop and descended through a low-lying pine forest to the cliffs. We walked out to the point, which offered some lovely views of Portixol island as well as the bay of Javea behind us. The kids had a great time as it was an easy walk - which for Christian was part of his training regimen to climb Montgo. They enjoyed chewing on the pine needles, which I told them were a great snack, loaded with Vitamin C. It was great that they kept up the whole time and didn't once ask me to carry them. I am encouraged that we can start doing bigger hikes soon!

Out with the Old (Villa), in with the New..

2008-09-22T21:50:00.000-07:00

As we wrote about earlier, we had been having many issues with our initial villa, so we finally decided to make a change. After contacting almost every realtor in town, we came across a place we could call home for the next 9 months. The property is called Villa del Sol and is not far from our old villa. However, it is in a newer area and was only recently rented out as of this summer. Everything is brand new and it is huge (5 bedrooms!), bright & airy with a large open kitchen. This is very unusual by Spanish/EU standards. The villa has an amazing deck looking across the entire area towards Mt. Montgo and the Old Town across a small agricultural valley. The kids are fascinated by Montgo and love to watch the clouds roll in and sit on top. Christian is set on climbing it someday. We are in the process of supplying the final touches on linens, supplies, etc. as it was originally built for sale and until the market crashed (yes, they are feeling the heat big time in Javea), was not intended to be rented out. Our big purchase yesterday was a small espresso maker - this is one material thing we will quite enjoy while we are here! Now we just need to navigate the phone line/internet installation process (aargh, more bureacracy!), and we'll be pretty darned comfortable.

A Lesson in Patience - Navigating the Spanish Bureaucracy

2008-09-17T08:14:00.001-07:00

We get asked all the time about whether we are planning to work while we are out here. Our residence permits do not allow us to do so, but even if they did, I’m not sure how we would be able to handle the logistics if we were working. I guess that’s where relo companies come in! In a masochistic way, I guess this is part of the adventure, but everything has proven to be quite challenging. Our first test of this came when we went to register for an N.I.E. card, which would formally establish us as residents of the area. We were told that we had to go to Denia, a neighboring town. It took us most of the first day just to find the correct police station (the national one, not the local one and not the Guardia civil). Upon arrival they were closing for the day (at about 1:40 pm!) and they told us to return tomorrow. The next day we showed up around 11:00 am to a huge line, which we were told had hardly moved since 6 in the morning. People had been waiting for days and were still getting turned away at closing time. We met a nice British couple, Caren and Steve who were trying to do the same thing and they suggested an option of paying one of the local advice experts to help manage the process and expedite the waiting in line. Rather than wasting further time, we all left and decided to explore other routes. As it turned out, the process was quite muddled and nobody was clear on what to do. The local advice expert only handled EU residents and was not familiar with the process for US citizens, which was apparently different. We came to learn that the paperwork we had received from the Spanish consulate in LA the last day before our departure turned out to be the golden ticket. Upon consultation with Spanish lawyers, advice consultants and local businesses, we came to learn that we already had our NIE numbers and did not need to pick up an additional card. In fact, we would have likely been turned away had we waited 6-8 hours in Denia, or worse, told to go from there to Alicante only to wait there and be turned away again. Yikes. With our NIE paperwork in hand, we could begin the process of getting cell phones, signing rental contracts, buying a car, and enrolling in schools…well not quite yet. We still had to register with the local Javea municipal government to get a certificate called “empadronamiento” – which was required for public school enrollment (Casey only)and car purchases. For that we had to prove we were living here long term and needed a rental contract in hand. After several tries in line with improper paperwork, we finally got a temporary certificate so I could get Casey into school. From there it was off the Casa de Cultura, where we then discovered that we needed to procure Casey’s birth certificate. Wait a minute…I thought we needed that for visas and passports only. As it turned out, this was one of the items that did not make it into our travel folder and even worse, was now packed into the bowels of a Bekins storage unit facility in the US. AAArrrrggghhh! This resulted in several days scrambling with the Ventura County Recorder and ultimately the Spanish Consulate who were kind enough to fax over a copy for us. So with papers in hand, it was back to the Casa de Cultura to finish off the details. I then received a certificate to bring to Casey’s school, where I learned of yet ANOTHER detail which I did not have – an SIP card from the Public Health Center (Centro de Salud). So another several hours of confusion – apparently a SIP card is a bit more complicated for US vs. EU citizens – I was able to procure the necessary paperwork and went back to the school. Note that the office is open only from 9-10 (I’d like to have that job!), so there were big lines and lots of translational challenges, but suffice it to say that Casey will be starting school tomorrow. Whew…I’m exhausted just writing about this!

Back in the Saddle - Cycling in the Valle de Pop and Col de Rates

2008-09-07T08:14:00.000-07:00

Eric and I - both avid road cyclists and both not having been on a bike in a long time (Eric not since last November!) - rented some pretty decent road bikes and headed inland. The owner of the Javea Bike shop told us about a nice little route through the inland mountain region and we headed out at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning. The road out of Javea is a bit industrial, loud and not terribly scenic so we drove to Gata de Gorgos to begin our ride. Both of us felt good to be back in the saddle after a long hiatus. Once we headed under the AP-7 motorway, we traveled on a small country road (~1 ½ lanes), passing through orange groves and grape vines, which appeared to be for raisins. The road began to rise and wind through scented pine forests as we worked our way towards the inland mountains, passing quaint Spanish towns of Liber and Xalo/(Jalon) on the way. We entered the Valle del Pop, which is a beautiful agricultural region at the base of the Sierra de Carrascal de Parcent, known for its “mistela” – a sweet white muscatel wine, as well as several varietials of roses and full-bodied red wines. As we passed the town of Alcalali, the locals were setting up for a huge open-air market, something we will definitely have to come back for with the kids. Another highlight of Alcalali we’ll have to return to is it’s raisin museum, paying homage to what once was a primary economic resource of the region from the time of the Moors until the mid 1900s. We started to see more and more riders – an encouraging sign - it reminded me of Sunday mornings in the Santa Monicas. Two riders blew past us and our competitive fire kicked in as we tried for a while to keep pace. However, they had the advantage of training and knowing what was ahead, so we dropped our egos and backed off. We arrived in Parcent and looked up towards the Coll de Rates , some 780 meters above sea level. The road ahead looked like it was cut into the mountain and we hunkered down for some serious climbing. Now Eric is an experienced road rider, but he was handicapped by not having proper bike shoes (hard to find size 13+ shoes outside of the States!) so he had to rely on toe clips and sandals for the climb. I was quite content to maintain a slower pace, as my “gas tank” was near empty. Passing over the Coll, we were rewarded with spectacular views of the Sierra de Xorta and Sierra de Bernia, as well as back to the Montgo and Mediterranean far below to the North and West. For a moment we briefly contemplated making the descent to Taberna, known for its numerous homemade sausages as well as a Moorish castle. However, common sense dictated that we might not be fit enough to make the grueling climb back up, so we decided to head back the way we came. It was an exhilarating descent as we made our way back down the rocky mountain and into the sweetly scented pine forests. We looped through Parcent and headed over to Orba, where we stopped in the old town and had a much needed breakfast of eggs, bacon, pan y tomate, café con leche and orange juice at a peaceful little main plaza under the church bell tower. Now this was the life! There were several cyclists enjoying coffees in the plaza and we met a guy from Australia who was visiting Spain with his wife. He would head out on his bike from each town they stopped in while his wife did the touristy things. Sounded like a good way to vacation! With our bellies full, Eric and I slowly made our way back to our car, quite satisfied and tired from a very encouraging first outing on the saddle in the Marina Alta.

Close of the Festes - The Deafening Firecrackers

2008-09-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

The remainder of the festival days 3 through 7 basically consisted of 2-3 times daily Bulls by the Sea (once was enough for us!), several parades with people dressed in traditional Spanish garb walking through town carrying flowers, candles and quite often followed by a religious icon and a band. After a while, the cast of characters became familiar and the parades all started to blend together. Every night would host some sort of theater or orchestra performance followed by disco at the port, usually starting around 1 am. Okay, that used to be halfway through our night, so needless to say, we did not quite make it to the disco. Besides, we were still in the process of building our babysitter network! We tried to get a babysitter for the last night Eric and Susan were in town, but “it was not possible” during festes week! One of the final events worth noting was the Mascletada, or firecracker show. Based on my limited translational skills, this was described in the event guide as “Ensordecedora Mascletada”. I looked up ensordecedora in my dictionary – deafening. Uh oh… given what we’ve seen so far with the Spanish, to actually include the word deafening in the guide made us a bit nervous, especially since we had no earplugs. We headed over to the street intersection and came upon a huge area fenced off around what looked like 5 long rows of colored candles hanging on clotheslines. The crowd was at least 25-50 yards behind the fence, so we decided to stay back even further by some shade trees. At first a few fireworks were shot into the air making very loud bangs, but they were manageable, albeit a bit hard to see, as it was the middle of the day. The kids enjoyed watching the colored smoke puffs in the sky as the explosions began to intensify. After a while the whole area filled with billowing smoke and I headed up towards the fence to take some pictures. At that point, they lit the “clothesline” for the finale. I can’t say for sure exactly what these firecrackers were, but they felt and sounded like M80s, if not stronger. All I know is that they started going off in multiples as they moved rapidly down the clothesline. I’m talking hundreds of these things – at one point it got so intense that I had to put the camera down because of the strength of the explosions. I could literally feel the shock waves and blasts of heat as they went off. I’ve never experienced anything even close to a military combat situation, but I wondered if it would be something like this. I just can’t imagine how frightening it would be to be on the other side of that fence. I returned to Suzanne and the kids in a bit of a dazed, giddy wonder. The kids ran up and asked, “Daddy, were you scared?” I told them; “You know what? It was really cool but really, really scary and I’m glad you stayed back by the tree”. I think they were as well. Well, the festival closed Monday at midnight with a traditional fireworks show. After a very busy week, we opted to put the kids down to bed by nine. None of us had any energy to head back out that evening, but we did manage to catch a glimpse on our rooftop deck. From what I could hear, the finale was pretty intense and quite longbut we were ready for bed and ready for the end of the festes. A nice quiet week ahead of us actually sounded appealing!

First Day of School, Xabia International College

2008-09-04T07:53:00.000-07:00

Today marked a big day for Kellen and Christian - their first day at Xabia International College (XIC). Casey has not yet started as we are still working through the paperwork required to enroll her in a local all-Spanish school. XIC is a great little British school which is located high up on a wooded cliff above the sea in a restored building which used to house a restaurant. There is a strong sense of community within the school and the parents and teachers seem very friendly and involved. The kids are a mix from all over Europe and from Spain. The boys were quite excited to put on their new uniforms and meet their classmates. School runs from about 9 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon, with a break for lunch (school lunches provided) and various activities in the afternoon. They get about an hour of Spanish per day, but the rest is taught in English. Interestingly, they do not siesta here, so the boys will need to get plenty of rest at night. Overall, they seemed to enjoy their first day and it was cute to see them come out of class in their surprisingly clean uniforms!. We figure it will take a few days for them to get comfortable with the curriculum and their new classmates - many of whom have been together in previous classes - but overall their first impression was promising. Christian struggled with the Spanish portion of the day. We explained to him that one hour was far easier than having a full day in Spanish! Suzanne and I are very much looking forward to having all the kids in school, so we can settle into things and perhaps relax a bit more!