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.

More Pamplona, La Rioja, and San Sebastian

Prior to the trip, I was fully aware that travelling with three small kids might be no picnic at all. I was surprised, even delighted, to witness my children adjust with ease to a Spanish schedule – siesta from roughly 2-5 everyday, and no dinner offered at restaurants before 8:30 or 9 pm. The new stimuli – the city, the food, the language, the people – all engaged them fully. (Of course we still fed them dinner at 6 at home!)

Sunday morning August 14 began with our baguettes from the Taberna, the bakery where we came to be recognized (even waved to as we passed), then a walk to the Ciudadela, the Citadel of Pamplona, that is now a park. The fortress is small but welcoming with pathways and different levels to explore. It was a hot day so we found a shady spot under some trees to relax. The kids kicked around a soccer ball, and we let Pamplona soak in. Sunday is still a traditional day of rest there, so the markets and stores were closed. We cooked dinner at home and then walked to the Plaza Castillo for ice cream (open for the tourists, thankfully).

The food in Spain was somewhat challenging. You could call it the cheese, shellfish, and pork capital of the world (which is maybe why we couldn't find any synagogues to visit while there). Some of the local flavors were delicious - namely gazpacho and smoked salmon. The most common item, often viewed hanging from the ceiling in bars, is Jamon Iberian, or ham. There is a lot of charcuterie / meats available, chorizo sausages, and queso or cheese. Also seafood, mostly shellfish. A specialty of the north that we enjoyed very much are mushrooms, sautéed with olive oil (the olive oil in that region is delicious). Walking by the bars, you can see plates and plates of pintxos (pronounced “pinchos”) which is similar to tapas, but served on slices of bread and eaten with your hands (tapas is typically small plates of food you eat with silverware). They were delicious, and heavy. They could make a meal, but were really appetizers. Meals often were good but not great until we found a few restaurants that we loved and then frequented (Mi casa in the old City was one).Our favorite restaurant was in the most beautiful spot in Pamplona, the Rincon de Caballo Blanco (the restaurant was the Meson de Caballo Blanco), we practically became regulars there, ordering the same thing every time….a fresh smoked salmon tostada with salad, pickles, and dill. The kids loved the garlic bread and gazpacho there. We were hardly ever disappointed with the coffee – café con leche for me, and a“cortado” for Jordan which is an espresso with a little steamed milk.

It was difficult to find a lot of food for the kids in restaurants. They loved the tradition of churros y chocolate - basically dipping churros (like donuts) in to a thick chocolate sauce. Talk about nutricious breakfasts! We did have some amazing pizza with the thinnest crust I've ever seen in Pamplona...but don't talk to Jordan about eating Italian food in Spain. Between pasta, yogurt, cheese, bread, and a daily ice cream our kids did not starve.

Monday, August 15, turned out to be a bank holiday so once again everything was closed and we ventured out on our first daytrip from Pamplona. Our destination was La Rioja, the wine region southeast of Pamplona. We drove through Logrono, and stopped first at Elciego, where Frank Gehry was commissioned to build a special hotel in a Bedoga known as the City of Wine. This structure is akin to the Guggenheim. We unfortunately just missed the guided tour, so we settled for cheese, bread, chorizo, and wine in their shop. From there we drove through an area as lovely as Napa or Sonoma to a town called Haro, where many Bodegas or wineries operate. In the old town, we had some of the best mushrooms tapas at a bar, and found hot dogs for the kids. We spent the afternoon in Haro at a lovely little water park, complete with water slides that the kids loved. Once again it was reinforced that Spain makes smart investments in entertainment for kids and families right alongside adult destinations like wineries. The day felt balanced, satisfying all age groups. On our drive our of Haro, we stopped at some gorgeous wineries to buy a litte vino to take home.

The weather continued to be perfect, so the next day we headed to the beach in San Sebastian. Both Jordan and I had been there before (twenty years ago!!) and it was bigger than I remembered. It was also incredibly crowded, since most Spaniards vacation in August and San Sebastian is a popular destination and place where people have second homes. We walked around the old town a bit and then headed to the beach. It’s a gorgeous beach with the town surrounding it. The surf was small but very fun for the kids. They were shocked to see women without tops, and Jordan kept his eyes closed the whole time, I am sure. A note about European bathing suits: no one female wears anything but a bikini (and sometimes just the bottom). Regardless of size or age, people parade along the beach comfortably in their bikinis. I must say, I was impressed – not with what I saw, but with what it represents. I think Europeans have a better sense of self and more comfort with their bodies then we Americans do.  Thankfully, I brought a bikini with me, so when in Rome….(no photos allowed, ha ha)

We left the beach and headed to the old city and the famous Cathedral that I remembered from my previous visit. I took the kids through the church and they quickly decided it was not interesting (a very different travel experience with three small kids...sightseeing is minimal), and so we headed to a bar for some pintxos and sangria (a necessity when traveling with three small kids). We then headed to a small fishing village about 20 minutes away called Getaria for dinner. The drive was specatular….like the coastal highway in California, with small villages connected and beautiful beaches. We had dinner outside on the hillside overlooking the port and the beach. It was charmingly perfect and the fish was delicious.

Pamplona...

When you mention Pamplona to anyone, the first thing they think of is the Running of the Bulls (known here as the Festival of San Fermin). Perhaps the second is Ernest Hemingway. And maybe they’ve heard of the road to Santiago de Compostela, the ancient Christian pilgrimage still practiced by many today to retrace the steps the cathedral where the remains of St James are said to be laid to rest. For a small city, that’s much to boast about. Really, the city is pretty modern, but in the center is its heart, the Casco Antiguo, the old city where much of the excitement occurs.

When you look at a map of the Pamplona, often you will see an inset of the old city, similar to the map here. If you can locate the street running through the middle, Calle Mayor, you will have found our address at number 11, roughly where the “o” is in Mayor. We couldn’t believe it. Right on the Camino to Santiago, right on the path of the Running of the Bulls, right outside the square where the beautiful town hall lies, that’s where we are living. Our fourth floor apartment looks out onto the street and even to the mountains beyond out of our highest window on the second floor.

I had high hopes for the apartment based on the pictures I’d seen online. My expectations were met instantly upon arrival. Our hosts in absentia, Virginia and Sabin and their three children (whom we’d met and spent time with prior in Boston prior to our departure) have a very funky apartment. It’s a three bedroom loft, decorated in an eclectic and charming/hip style. The kids’ rooms have windows with balconies looking out to the street, the main room is comprised of the kitchen, dining area and living area, upstairs is the master bedroom and bath and a tiny guest room. There is an entrance hall and a bathroom on the lower level, and a window terrace where they connect clotheslines from the entry hall to the bathroom. Beyond the excitement of how cool it is, we were amazed at how good they are at using space. Everything possible pocket of space is utilized as a drawer or cabinet….even the bottom three stairs leading to the loft were a secret closet. I know this kind of living is typical in any city, but it is impressive to experience how a family of 5 lives in limited space. We think our house in Brookline is on the smaller side (such an American perspective), but our guests there were amazed with the spaciousness and our yard. It’s all different, and refreshing to experience the opposite of what we have for a while.

(For example, the kids were enthralled by the clotheslines, never having used one before. They spent a good 2 hours that first morning playing with them…hanging laundry, pulling in the line, and re-hanging it. I’ll admit it’s sort of fun to do, but after two and a half weeks, I will be glad to get back to my dryer at home.)

The city has so much charm. The cobblestone streets, the storefronts and apartments above, the balconies, window boxes and church towers sprinkled throughout, it all feel so typically and charmingly European. It was very easy to start a morning ritual of going down to our local bakery to get a baguette and to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city coming to life. Cars allowed on our street only in the morning. The buzzer to the apartment and the sounds of neighbors in the stairwell. Church bells in all sorts of patterns at many random times of days.

In the beginning we looked and felt liked tourists, and while I’m sure the look never went away, the feeling certainly did. I felt a certain ownership of the city after a week or so, being able to venture out without more than a key (no map necessary), knowing the place, and returning to Calle Mayor alongside the rest of the tourists but then turning to the door of our apartment, key in hand. As if to say, yes, I live here.

The girls loved gaining comfort with the city and being granted small opportunities to venture out to the bakery, art store, or fabric store on their own. They would buzz up to the apartment upon their return. They knew to be safe. And they loved their independence.

That first morning in Calle Mayor, we got a baguette, had breakfast, walked to the Plaza where the city hall is (about a block from the apartment), admired the Baroque structure, and discovered the market tucked behind. It was a large hall with stalls for cheese and meat, fish and produce. All local and fresh. The fruits and vegetables here are so inexpensive compared to Boston. It’s hard to spend over $10 while coming home with bushels and bags. There’s also a traditional grocery there where you can get just about all the regular staples and processed foods. But we tried to avoid that as much as we could.

After success with grocery shopping, we had lunch and ventured out to find the public pool given that the day was hot. Virginia (the wife/mother in the family we swapped with) told us how nice the public pool was in Pamplona so we were eager to find it. We walked out our door and in minutes were at a contemporary looking glass elevator to take us down from the heights of this fortress city to the river below. This is something we began to recognize and admire in Pamplona. They’ve done a wonderful job blending the old style with sleek contemporary renovations. Many front doors of the apartment reflect this. (Virginia’s sister and brother-in-law showed me their apartment which was unbelievably chic and contemporary –mostly white with some exposed wood beams, funky obtuse and acute angles, and two bedrooms also for a family of 5!!) Back on the theme of blending the new with the old, our walk along the river showed reflected the same in the bridges, many new metal structures interspersed between some historic stone structures.

A short walk brought us to a beautiful swimming pool complex…three pools, exercise rooms, barbeque and picnic areas, all open to the public for a small fee. We had taken Virginia and her family to the DCR swimming pool in Cleveland Circle back in Brookline (or really Brighton) and they were impressed that it was free and relatively clean. Now that I saw their public pool, I saw such a difference that it began a train of thought that continued for the rest of the trip. Pamplona (along with a few other parts of Spain, Bilbao in particular) has done such a good job with urban planning that it seems clearly designed for living and enjoying. There is an eye to the aesthetic, while at the same time the design invites you in. Specifically for a family with young kids, we were amazed to see how many playgrounds there are all over the place. I thought Soule and Skyline in Brookline were exciting new kinds of playgrounds, but almost all of the playgrounds in Spain that we saw were similar to Soule or better. Our observations of the pool in Pamplona and the playgrounds (especially in Bilbao) led us to interesting conversations about Boston and the Greenway and our public parks. While we’ve done a good job protecting and redeveloping some of our greenspace, I think Spain is way ahead of us and so far has done a much better job.

Back at the pool, we had a great time.  Afterward, we went back home and went back out to the old city to explore the restaurants and find some dinner, which ended up being ice cream cones in the Plaza del Castillo.

An apology

Before continuing with my blog…first an honest apology for my delinquency in posting. My sister first suggested I keep a blog to keep friends and family apprised of our adventure, and I half-heartedly considered it but did not think it was ‘me’. Then on a lark, I just did it. Jumped in without testing the water. I was pleased that I was capable of creating it, but surprisingly, it brought with it an onslaught of emotion. Am I a good enough writer? Will I use too many commas? Will anyone read it? Why hasn’t anyone replied or emailed me a response? (A few friends did email about it). It also felt like an assignment and I was initially frustrated with myself for having started it because now I had to keep up regularly. It seemed a chore. Capturing storied of our travels for sharing and for posterity is certainly worthwhile, but it felt opposite of what I came here to do. During the days we experienced Spain, and at night I didn’t want to recount it all, I just wanted to absorb.

At the same time, I have felt some guilt (as all good jewish girls do) in having a joyous time here while our dear friend Rebecca is home recovering from being hit by a car. Adam’s daily postings have given us strength, knowing that she is getting better. But not being able to be there for her in person has been difficult. I know she would rejoice in what we are experiencing here, and this adventure has meaning for us, no doubt. But it pales in comparison to the meaningfulness that her friendship and the love of our entire community hold in our hearts. Other friends have also experienced personal challenges while we’ve been gone that have been shared over email. It has been hard being so removed geographically and in a sort of bubble while things that are so critical to life and love and friendship continue to test us all unexpectedly. You all should know that you are with us daily.

So with all that, I have been remiss. My apologies to any of you who actually came here from time to time to read about what we were up to. Sorry for keeping you waiting….and thanks for being there.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program….

August 12 To Pamplona

As we drove out of Madrid, we were first struck by how little suburban development there was. The landscape was rather open and arid with little by way of villages. What thoroughly impressed us were the solar farms and the wind farms we passed. Spain seems to be way ahead of us in the renewable energy sector. (In Pamplona, the recycling program is comprehensive with many recycling containers located throughout the old city and the program is heavily promoted).

The roughly 5 hour trip to Pamplona went by very quickly. Maybe it was our one CD we brought of the Beatles that carried us through (ask Caleb to sing “She’s got a ticket to ride” next time you see him). Or maybe that because kilometers are shorter than miles, it felt like we were covering ground more quickly. Whatever the reason, we were delighted to get to Pamplona by nightfall.

Jordan had mapped out direction to our “house” and we had the phone number of Elisa, the youngest sister of Virginia with whom we were swapping. We called her as we left the roundabout near the house…less than 5 minutes away. She was walking over to our place since she lives two blocks away. As soon as we turned into the streets of the old city, we were giddy observing the charm that we were going to experience living in this Casco Antiguo, the Old City, for two and a half weeks. We drove past a small plaza with a playground and saw seats all arranged for an outdoor movie to be shown that evening. Locals were making their way to the square with linked arms. It was almost right out of Cinema Paradiso.

We followed the directions to Calle Mayor, 11, our new address and found ourselves plopped out on the edge of the old city with Calle Mayor immediately behind us, and one way. So we gave it another go, and then another…feeling much like we were in Chevy Chase’s movie Vacation. “Look kids, Big Ben.” Finally on our third try, Elisa was waiting for us and waved down the familiar van.

She was lovely and helped us unload our car and drag it up to the fourth floor (no elevator) of our new residence. I then left Jordan to settle the kids into bed while she showed me the parking place (10 minutes away because there is limited parking in the Old City). Afterward, her novio met us and together we walked me back to Old City and she showed me where the family bikes were stored, and also where the elevator taking us down to the river was located. By that time, it was dark and the city walls were illuminated and the view beyond to the valley below and the mountains behind was spectacular. I was in awe of the destination we had randomly selected for our “intercambio” or house exchange.

I now felt that our vacation had truly begun.

First Posting 8/14

First of all I feel like I've just stepped out of the dark ages. No, this has nothing to do with being in Pamplona, but all to do with starting a blog!! Many of you know I am a "phantom" on facebook and otherwise a complete luddite with my non-smart phone....but here I am blogging. Well, if I am going to do this, I better not be boring.

We are on our fourth official day in Spain, not including our travel day. But I will start at the beginning...

Getting here was surprisingly easy with three small children. After being dropped off at Logan by my Dad, we checked in with no lines at all and then went to the Air France club for some victuals and the first glass of wine of the trip. The kids loved all the free food and the 3 hours of waiting for the flight went by quickly. On the plane, the kids were great...no fussing at all thanks to modern technology (DVD players). Jordan and Ella sat in business class and Celia, Caleb and I were in steerage. (I honestly don't know how anyone mildly overweight would fit in any of these seats...once the person in front of me reclined I barely had 4 inches to spare and anything stored under the seat in front of me may have well have been buried in the lost city of Atlantis). After dinner - I was surprised to be fed on the plane at all - Caleb was very cute and put himself into his pajamas. Shortly thereafter the cabin went dusky and Kung Fu panda came on the in-flight entertainment. Nothing like silent japanese animation to put your kids right to sleep. Caleb was out across my lap and Celia took up the other two seats...while I think Ella and Jordan were having grapes peeled for them in biz class. Whatever, I hold no grudges. J is 6 foot 3, I know. But suffice it to say, I got no sleep. We woke the kids at 1 am Boston time to change planes in Frankfurt and they rallied beautifully.

Frankfurt, I am sure, has some lovely new parts to it's airport, but we saw none of them. We had only an hour to get to our new gate, and it was at least a mile a way. We sprinted and made it on time. There we boarded with a young pilgrimage group from South Africa who were very nice. I also met a New Yorker who was on his way to Ibiza for a few weeks vacation for the second year in a row. Instead of boarding the plane at the gate, we boarded a bus and for a while I thought we were being driven to Madrid given how far we went. (I think the driver also got his license by watching that awful film where Keanu Reeves drives a bus like a lunatic. It was moderately scary at a few moments.) We finally got onto our second leg of the trip...and I got my just desserts. Sitting with Celia in buziness class on a rickety old plane. Seriously, not too bad. The flight from Frankfort to Madrid had the most beautiful views of the Alps, and then the Pyrenees. We started to get very excited.

Once we landed in Spain, everything came together smoothly. We picked up our bags, found the bus to the long term lot where our Spaniards left their van for us, and then navigated to our hotel in Madrid were we planned to rest up and kick our jet lag.

By now I guess you could say that we were tired - from the late night packing, the all-nighter on the plane, and coming down off the adrenaline of our big trip. I was probably quite a fright. But it gets worse. Not more than 30 minutes at our hotel, I went looking for Caleb who walked outside to an enclosed patio and BOOM I walked right into a glass window HARD. The waitress screamed a little and out of embarassment I started laughing until the looks of horror faced me as blood started trickling down my face. Then I started crying, albeit briefly. The staff took very good care of my minor head wound (a gash above my left eyebrow) and we all went up for a nap. Afterward, the kids and Jordan had a quick swim in the hotel pool, we crashed for about 2-3 hours of sleep, then found a bite to eat, and then all slept for 13 more hours in the same room! It was amazing. We woke up late the next morning, got dressed and went downtown to see Madrid.

The Metro in Madrid is incredible. So clean, so frequent (we never had to wait). We first got out downtown in a lovely pedestrian mall with so many shops and markets (lots of hanging meats and cheeses on display) and walked several blocks to the Plaza Mayor which was expansive but somewhat arid - no trees or greenery or fountains at all. Still, the buildings of the plaza structurally were beautiful. Just on the otherside of the Plaza was a market that was spectacular. All glass enclosed with gourmet food stalls of wide varieties - fish, fruits, seafood, bread and pastries, and ice cream. We got juices there and tapas. The fish in particular was outstanding. From there, we walked (I should mention we did have a stroller with us for the tired little ones) to see the Palace which was quite lovely. We sat on the steps of a cathedral facing the entrance for a while and listened to some classical violin. From there, we went to the lating quarter for lunch and found the coolest bar/cafe to eat lunch. The music was incredible, lots of artsy folks were hanging out at the bar, and the food was excellent - tapas and amazing salads that Jordan is still fantasizing about. The kids were still doing remarkably well (no major meltdowns).

From there we went back to the hotel for another swim and a siesta. At the hotel pool we met some girls on vacation with their family from Barcelona. Their English was pretty good and my spanish decent enough for us to have a chat....but remarkably the universal language of music was a common denominator. They mentioned Justin Bieber as soon as they heard we were from the US. After swimming and chilling out for a while, we ventured back out into Madrid for dinner which turned into more of an adventure than a meal. We were guided to a funky neighborhood called Lavapies which was supposed to be very ethnic and hip. It certainly was very ethnic, with many senegalese and robed muslims of other ethnicities all speaking spanish around us. It was not touristy at all and felt very authentically urban and diverse as though we were in parts of NYC. We stumbled across another hip/artsy cafe for some mediterranean appetizers, and then ambled back up to the more popular parts of Madrid's city center. It wasn't until about 10 pm that we crossed back through the Plaza Mayor, and this time it felt quite alive with people dining and walking about, and street vendors entertaining and selling toys to the kids. We got the kids a light up toy that you fling in the air like a sling shot and it twirls back down. Within minutes, Ella's was stuck on a balcony and Caleb had broken his...but thankfully they still managed to keep themselves together and enjoy the remaining one (and a half). I was amazed to see my kids awake at 11 pm (Spain time) and having a great time. We took the Metro home and met an Italian couple who had been on the same Metro as us earlier in the day. They were lovely and interesting to chat with. By midnight, we'd completed our first full day in Madrid.

The next day we planned to depart for Pamplona, but we still wanted to head into Madrid in the morning for a little more exploration. We visited the Parque Retiro - a huge park in downtown Madrid. It was hot and we got no futher than the playground at the entrance where we stayed for an hour or so. (This was actualizing my thought that going to a foreign country with kids was really just spending a lot of money and getting jet lag to be in a playground in some other country...but the day before had already quelled that concern.) After lunch we headed out of Madrid by about 3 pm.

The kids' initial take on being in Europe was that it was not too different from home. There was a subway, supermarkets, cars we recognize (toyota, VW, BMW) but also cars we don't (peugeot, renault, fiat). Most of the people look like we do, and there is a lot of diversity like at home. The food is a little different, but you can still get hot dogs and grilled chicken. The big observation they had was that SO many people smoke. They were astounded since they know it's so bad for you. The street were covered in cigarette butts. So we talked about that plenty. They also really started to hear Spanish and ask questions about what certain words mean. I am sure they are abosrbing more and more each day (vocabuarly, that is, and hopefully not second hand smoke).

I think I will sign off for now and post more about the trip to Pamplona and our first days here later (just at hint at what's to come: it's amazing! we are in the heart of the old city on the street where both the pilgrims walk on their way to Santiago de Compostela and also where the bulls run in the festival of san fermin...it's incredible...)
With love,
Evonne