Harvey and Adrianne Arrive

The next day, Wednesday August 17, we chilled out in Pamplona in the morning awaiting the arrival of Jordan’s father Harvey and his partner, Adrianne. It was a beautiful day and I went running in the morning to explore some new parts of the city I had not yet seen. I ran past the public pool and then up toward the Plaza de Toros (the bull ring) and along part of the promenade that encircles the old city offering views of the foothills beyond. Again, I admired the blending of the old and new: modern metal and glass footbridges and elevators adjacent to ramparts several hundred years old.

That morning I also had the pleasure of meeting Virginia’s brother-in-law Oscar and his children, Iztal (5) and Beñat (3). They came over because we had a problem with the window in Caleb’s (really Todor’s) room. The full length windows have two settings – one that tilts open from the top and the second that allows you to open it like a door. If you have an engineering mind, you can imagine the hinges required for these two positions. Well, the top corner hinge was not working properly, and it would still open like a door, which meant that it was really only attached properly by the bottom corner hinge – a recipe for disaster. Of course, being a guest in their home, I was afraid of doing damage…and, well, let’s just say that my fear was not unfounded. Most of the items we broke were replaceable (the glass carafe of the French press, the plastic knob of the stove…I even trekked across town to find the service dealer with the spare part!), however the window – which I don’t think we broke – was a big deal. First their cleaning person, Pili, took a look at it, then she called Oscar, and he came over and called their handyman to come. We got it in good working order, but I was still a bit nervous about it. No major problems ever arose thankfully.

Celia looking out her window to Calle Mayor below

Oscar was very sweet and generous in inviting us to swim with his family, and to have dinner with them. We met his wife Oskia, Virginia’s sister, and she was charming as well. Virginia comes from a large family, 4 girls and 2 boys, who all still live in Pamplona. Her mother also lives in the old city. Ultimately we met all of the female Redins who hosted us for meals. We were very touched by their warmth and generous hospitality.

Oskar & Harvey

Harvey and Adrianne were excited to meet up with us and especially to see how the children were enjoying Spain. Their hotel was two blocks away, and had a pool that the kids enjoyed. They rested that afternoon and we met them for dinner…for what was one of the most stressful nights of the trip.

As most of you know, Jordan is a foodie. So in his typical style, he spent the better part of the afternoon researching where to eat in Pamplona to show his parents a good time. Despite a handful of suggestions from Oskar and the hotel concierge, Jordan’s diligence resulted in a different restaurant in the old city which received very high online ratings. The pictures of the food on the internet and the menu all looked enticing. He made a reservation. However, upon arrival at 8 pm (of course, we were the only ones seated in the dining room making the reservation a joke), the restaurant was rather lack luster and the menu appeared to be different from what we expected. Jordan was rather intent on eating there, but within a few minutes, I suggested we not stay and Harvey concurred. No surprise; Jordan was not happy as we left the restaurant.

The quest that followed was a series of disappointments. The other restaurants that had been recommended were closed for vacation. We traipsed around, children gloomily in tow, looking in one after another restaurant which did not satisfy our expectations or needs. Here the food was too light, there is was too heavy. Jordan obligingly followed along with a very grim expression on his face and no opinion to offer at each option, his flock having not only lost its way but also having seriously pissed off its shepherd. So, we ended up eating in the Plaza de Castillo (score one for authentic Pamplona), however at the Italian restaurant chain, Tagliatelle (strike one – Italian???? strike two – chain????). Mute Jordan declined to order at this offensive establishment, and only after Spanish wine was brought to the table did he soften slightly. Ultimately, the food was delicious (great, super thin pizza and excellent pasta in US-size portions), the kids were well fed, and harsh feelings dissipated. The night was completed with – you guessed it – ice cream in the Plaza. The next day the multi-generational family relations resumed unharmed.

Thursday was a little rainy, so we left Harvey and Adrianne work off their jet lag while we idled around the apartment and watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. That evening we had dinner with Oscar and his boys in the courtyard of Virginia’s mother’s apartment. It was typical picnic of meat (chirozo) and cheese along with the local delicacy – white asparagus. The kids all got on swimmingly and Oscar provided us with useful maps of the Pyrenees and of the North written in Basque to help us navigate the roads.

Basque is an interesting language. It’s considered to be one of the oldest known languages. Some guidebooks even credit it with being the language spoken in the Garden of Eden. It seems to us that everyone who speaks Basque also speaks Spanish, so we never heard it spoken directly to us. But the road signs in the north would suggest its more common than Spanish. Reading the road signs aloud suggests there is a lot of spitting involved with the pronunciation of Basque words. Lots of tx’s, k’s, and other hard consonants back to back. We later learned from Maria – Virginia’s sister – that “tx” is pronounced “ch”. If you ever really wondered why we have the infrequently used letter X in our alphabet, ix because (I couldn’t resist) Basques borrowed it from the Ancient Greeks and started using it in Algebra. Of course, we then needed a way to abbreviate Christmas – this is true. That and the Boggle-players union lobbied hard for more words like xylophone (I mean seriously, why not then xip your xipper??).If you’re really interested, see Wikipedia on the origin of the letter X, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X. Anyway, if you are driving through northern Spain the roads are generally well marked. But don’t expect it to be that easy. Especially if you are trying to get out of Bilbao…but I will leave that story to another day.