Wednesday, July 25, 2012

MySpace? Seriously???

A couple of days after returning from Spain, Suzanne went back to the airport to pick up my 14-year old nephew, Chase, and her 13-year old neice, Annelise.  They are staying with us for a few weeks this summer which we are thrilled about and which has put our kids into a frenzy of excitement.

Suzanne and I have been getting a kick out of the exposure to a couple of young teenagers in our house.  They are both super great kids - excuse me, "young adults" - but I think part of last night's dinner conversation was pretty eye-opening for everyone.

Chase said something to Annelise about how I was in my high school production of "Grease".  Annie couldn't beLIEVE it!  She suggested that it would be pretty hysterical if we had a video of it uploaded to YouTube.

Chase's all of the sudden became the authority on such matters and explained to Annelise how this happened so long ago, it was, like, back in the days of "MySpace"!!!

I had to correct my young Jedi nephew with the explanation that this actually was, like, FIFTEEN YEARS BEFORE anyone had HEARD of "MySpace" and as a matter of fact, it was basically before anyone knew much about the internet, period!  ...Yeah, that blew their minds.  I had fun with that one.

Suzanne, on the other hand, said something about a recording on VHS.  Annelise had no idea what she was talking about.  Suzanne explained about these cassettes that have a ribbon that goes from one spool to the next, bla, bla, and Annelise finally realizes that she may have heard about those once, you know, like, I think I saw one packed away in a box in our house one time, and, like, I think my Dad told me about those one time.

People, we are not that old, I promise you.  The only times when there is ANY evidence that we are aging is when I see my hairline in the mirror and when we have teenagers in our house.  Weeellll, that may not be entirely true - there is often a lot more snaps, crackles, and pops when we get in and out of bed everyday - but it is true as far as you all are concerned!

ct

Monday, July 9, 2012

Why not a tractor?

We went to a trattoria/pizzeria recently and pulled into an empty parking lot.  It might have been 6:30 or 7:00, but the Italians eat late and we were one of the first ones there that night. I don't recall any other vehicles there except maybe a scooter and definitely a tractor.  But you know, as odd as it may sound, I really didn't think that much of the tractor parked outside the front door.  There is a lot of farming and agriculture around here, and as one of my earlier blogs will attest to, the farming is pretty well woven into the fabric of society, at least once you get outside the downtown area.  So ok, there's a tractor in the parking lot.  Now, this is a full-size, working tractor, mind you, maybe a John Deere, maybe a Caterpillar, I don't know, but ok, it's a working tractor, you get the picture, no big deal. Maybe it's parked there after a day of work, maybe somebody will be using it again tomorrow.  Whatever.

Toward the end of our meal, we had a chance to see the owner/operator of the tractor.  This older gentlemen strolls out of the trattoria and climbs up into the cabin of the tractor.  The guy must have been 80 years old and he was wearing a sports-jacket that you could tell was both worn and well-made, a vest, shirt and tie, slacks, and some well-worn dress shoes.  He gets up into this tractor, fires it up, and drives away, presumably back home after his meal and cafe (probably a "cafe corretto" which is an espresso "corrected" with grappa).

And no one would have thought another thing of it.  By this time, there were plenty of people there, plenty of people who had pulled up in their beautiful Alfa Romeos, Land Rovers, or whatevers.  And this old guy, I'm going to say 80'ish, just hops up on his tractor in his full-blown evening wear, and drives off.  Ho-hum.

We're writing this blog in an attempt to capture and share some of our experience here.  There are countless things like this that happen everyday that just become a normal part of our life over here.  For most of them, you notice, register, perhaps appreciate, and then move on.  But these subtle little things provide the overall context for life here, and they are important if not for their subtlety.  I'd like to write about them every once in awhile and maybe preserve a bit for posterity, therefore, we now have the story of the man who gets gussied-up on a Saturday night and drives his tractor to the neighborhood trattoria.

ct


Adios, Pamplona


We just boarded the train in route to Barcelona. Pamplona was wonderful.  What an experience. We are currently pondering whether we will ever come back.  It sure is something to behold and I would love to come back again. I’ve never seen a party like the Festival of San Fermin.

Yesterday, Chris woke up early to watch the first running. He basically had to get up at 5:30a to be sure he got a spot to watch. He talked about how many people miss it because when it comes to actually getting up and motivating that early, many people just don’t do it, especially after partying. Since we had the kids up until midnight the day before, and given all the excitement of our big day, getting them up early would have been torture for them and for me. The kids and I had a good sleep.
Chris was back early to the hotel, and after an afternoon siesta, we all headed back to town.  Josh was still recovering from the day before and promptly fell asleep on the bus ride to town. I picked him up at our stop and he never opened his eyes. The town was as lively as ever with people everywhere in their white and red and the usual partying was in full swing. We walked to a grassy spot next to the bull ring and sat down to have a drink and let Josh finish out his power nap.  I laid him down with the backpack for a pillow and he slept for about another hour in that position, and most of that time was filled with loud drumming from the street performers that started up about 20 yards away from us.
Josh passed out cold.


Happy hour on the grass + nap time.
This was one of those moments that were great. It was a relaxing time sitting together, having a little wine, watching all the other festival goers passing by, watching the micro-party that surrounded the drummers, getting up and dancing a little to the drumming, and just enjoying the day. The funniest thing was when a couple young guys came to us , and in their broken English, asked us if we would use their camera to take a picture of them laying next to our son, who was totally passed out on the grass. When we finally understood what they were asking, Chris got up, the two guys lay down next to Josh and Isabel and pretended to be passed out, and Chris took the picture. It was hilarious. You see, it is a common sight to see people passed out in the green grassy parts of town, but it’s not usually little boys taking their nap.

Our children and some other festival participants passed out from too much partying:)
A common site around Pamplona during the festival.
The rest of the day was spent wandering about discovering other sights around town. We saw a parade go by (I think they were promoting Basque independence but I’m not entirely sure), saw a tranquil park along the river below the town,  stopped in a cafĂ© for a snack, found a stage where a lively latino band was playing and many people were dancing (many older couples together…very cute), happened on another square where a Spanish heavy metal band was playing. The kids were jamming. We picked up some perritos (hot dogs) there and started back to the bus stop. It was a good afternoon.
Dancing with my boy to some Latin beats.

I’m glad we stopped there. We considered going back to the rides, but thought we might get up early the next day to bring the kids into town for the next day’s encierro. After finally making it home, I realized we were done. We had done the festival and it was wonderful and the next day was going to be just about packing up and moving on to our next adventure.

It was a bit sad saying good-bye to Pamplona, especially for Chris, I think. He has some history in that place. As I watched the tv this morning during our hotel breakfast, and we saw the erratic bull that broke away from the pack during that morning’s encierro, I was really glad Chris did not do any actual running. That stuff is crazy! I think most people don’t know that is only one part of this glorious festival…..and ok, I guess I can see why that is a fun part for those who do it.

Now, we are traveling to our next adventure. Until Barcelona…..

Waiting for one of our many buses.

On the train - yes, that crazy balloon had to come with us. It made it through two buses, a train ride, and the taxi to our apartment in Barcelona.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Viva San Fermin!

Pamplona, Spain
The Festival of San Fermin, 2012

This is it. This is the Festival of San Fermin, or what most people refer to as "the running of the bulls." The more official term for the actual run is the encierro, and the truth is the encierro is only a piece of the largest festival and biggest party in Europe. Each year, for hundreds of years, this festival has celebrated the death of the medieval Saint Fermin. It always starts at noon on the afternoon of July 6. As Chris has said for years, the person who described it best was Hemingway, "At noon the festival exploded. There is no other word for it."

We got here to Pamplona on the afternoon of July 5. We made it to our hotel in Huarte, a town just on the outskirts of Pamplona. This comfortable hotel is about a 20 minute bus ride outside of town. We are definitely not in the city, but it works and it was one of the only places I could find for under 200 Euro a night, even booking 5 months ago and paying in advance.

On July 6, we got up early, got in our festival uniform, and started out to the bus stop. It was around 10 am, but the bus stop was already filled with all the other people dressed in white with red sashes. The overall vibe was already good and fun.




We reached the town and we were already entering a sea of people all wearing the same uniform. White and red everywhere!


We started our walk to the main square. The closer you got, the more crowded the streets became. The biggest square still had lots of room to move, but soon we started down a narrow street in the old section of town and I suddenly realized what we were entering. We were passing more people holding large plastic bottles of sangria. Young twenty-somethings were passing us going the other direction and their white shirts were now more of a pink-sangria color. A rowdy group of guys was gathered on the side of one narrow street spraying passers-by and we had to make a run for it to avoid the spray.  We rounded another corner and there was the square where the heartiest of the heartiest partiers were ready to get things started. They were packed into this small, medieval town square, and it would have been difficult to get in if we wanted to. We were just fine hanging out down the street observing. People were chanting, jumping, tossing large beach balls. People filled the balconies above. There was the constant spray of sangria from bota bags and larger splashes from bottles. It was an impressive experience that assaults all the senses.....the smell of sangria, the sights, and the noise of it all.

the drink of the day

random passers-by


That said, it was all in the name of celebration. Spirits were high, fun was in the air, and it was still about an hour and a half until the noon start. In the spirit of it all, Chris and I ducked into a little store and grabbed a couple liter bottles of Don Simon sangria (Don't worry, I sipped it slow and we nursed them for the rest of the day).

We left the crazy square after filling our senses, and walked around until it got closer to the start time. Just before noon, we got back to the main large square (not the one where sangria was spraying everywhere). They have a large flat screen showing the wild goings-on of the other square. At noon, a rocket goes off, and everyone goes crazy. Everyone held up their red bandanas and chanted, "Viva San Fermin!" There's a certain spirit in the air that only that many people can create in the name of pure festival celebration.




You may have noticed there was a distinct difference between the goings-on in each of these two squares. One of the amazing parts of this gigantic festival is its ability to create a place where everyone can have fun no matter your age. The square where we watched the start of the festival at noon was surrounded by families, older people, groups of picnickers with their delicious spreads of shrimp, meats, bread, wine, etc.,  children in strollers, young children, and people with their dogs (wearing a red bandana, of course).

After some chanting, we walked around to take in some more festival sights. We walked to the bull ring and took some pictures on the statue of Hemingway. We also met a nice American couple there with whom we ended up having lunch. We were lucky to find a place with a small quiet courtyard where we could get a little respite from the revelry.




After lunch, it was back to the hotel for a siesta. Later, we were back to town again and things were in full swing. Now, it seemed there were things going on everywhere. We couldn't walk a few feet without seeing an interesting street performer, a band, someone selling things, some drummers, and of course, lots of great people-watching. We had a great rest of the evening walking around and eventually ended up on the outskirts of the old city, high up on the medieval walls surrounding the city overlooking the river valley below and the Pyrennes mountains in the distance. It was a gorgeous sunset. Then the kids caught sight of the rides part of the festival below, and the rest of our night was suddenly planned out.


sunset from the old walls of the city


On the way down to the rides, we noticed people were stopped just before the bridge crossing the river and there were gates up and a couple police guards. Upon asking, we learned, the bulls for the next day's encierro were about to be herded across the river and up the road to the pens from where they are released the next day.......so cool!! We waited with everyone and when the bulls are about to come, everyone whispers a loud "shhhhhhhh". You are supposed to be quiet as they come by so you can hear the bells around their necks. Isabel got a good viewing seat on a nice, friendly American man's shoulders and Josh on daddy's. It went very fast, but at least we got to see the bulls!

the bulls being herded up to their pens for the next day's encierro


Then, it was onto the rides and that finished off the night. The kids did great walking back to the bus stop even though it was 11:30p! Josh was basically a walking zombie and fell asleep instantly when we picked him up to get on the bus. It was quite a day! It was an awesome day, and we were looking forward to another.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Spain

We are sitting here relaxing in our modest hotel room overlooking an old narrow street in San Sebastian, Spain. The kids did the classic move of falling asleep in their chairs at dinner tonight so we carried them home and put them to bed. Part of their exhaustion is explained by the constant sightseeing we have been doing since arriving in Spain 5 days ago, part by the great day at the beach where they jumped over waves and soaked up the sun, and part due to the 4 am wake-up call we gave them this morning.

We started the trip with a great stay in Seville. We booked an apartment in a nice, old neighborhood called Triana. The apartment was on a pleasant pedestrian street filled with tapas bars and shops, and two blocks down it ends at the foot of a bridge (Puente de Isabel) that leads directly to the old part of the city.

I loved Seville. It was a very easy to navigate city with beautiful architecture, friendly people, wonderful food and drink, and a relaxing laid-back vibe. Everywhere you look, colorful tiles accent buildings, walkways, and store signs. Balconies overflow with flowers, and on the horizon is the third largest cathedral in Europe (next to St Peter's and St Paul's) looming over the old city on the banks of a wide lazy river.

Our stay in Seville was filled with wandering the streets, visiting the cathedral, drinking sangria and eating tapas, walking the old narrow barrio streets, more sangria, seeing the Plaza de Espana, more sangria and a mojito, riding a bicycle-car through Parque Maria Luisa, gelato, and seeing the Alcazar. The last sight is an old palace used by royalty. It is one of the best examples of the Mudejar style, a blend of Islamic and Christian architecture. It is a beautiful sight and the gardens were of more interest to the kids as there were many fountains spilling into pools filled with Koy fish and there was a labyrinth created from shrubs.

The kids' favorite part was riding the bicycle-car through the park. We first stopped at the large fountain in front of the Plaza de Espana and got sufficiently wet through much splashing. Also, along our path through the park Chris saw an ice cream stand keeper watering down the street in front of his stand and Chris yelled, "Signor, agua, aqui!" while pointing at the kids sitting in front. The shopkeeper abliged and gave us a good spray. The kids loved it.

As we were expecting incredible heat, we were pleasantly surprised to have relatively mild weather. The highs were in the 90s, but it was very dry and there was always a little breeze. Apparently, the heat was nothing compared to what the East Coast of the US has been suffering through.

We took one other sightseeing adventure to the Ahlambra in Granada. It is an amazing structure. It's a very large palace and gardens situated on top of a hill with larger mountains of the Sierra Nevada giving it a back-drop. The palace is the Mudejar style just like the Alcazar, only bigger and it looks down onto a town of white-washed houses and more mountains in the distance. The gardens are beautiful with trickling fountains everywhere and beds of roses and other delicate flowers. The only drawback to this trip was the work in getting there. It was a three hour bus ride to Granada. Without kids, we could have powered through the palace and enjoyed the town of Granada, too, but with little kids, we just about made it through the palace, down to the town to grab something to eat, and back to the bus station. For those with kids, I would say skip it and just see the Alcazar.

By our last couple nights in Seville, we were actually adjusting to the time. We were actually out on our street eating dinner with the kids between 9:30 and 10:30pm. It seems crazy, but you really do start adjusting. This is the time of the day when everyone is out strolling, eating, playing with their kids. The only night this changed a little was the night of the Euro Cup 2012. This is basically the superbowl of Europe and Spain was playing Italy (go figure). Spanish flags were flying everywhere and red and yellow was painted on many faces, including babies. People were gathered in bars and neighborhood bodegas where flat screen tvs were placed outside for all to see. When Spain scored a goal, the streets erupted in cheers and chants. In the end, it was a good night for Spain and a sad one for Italy. Sorry, Italia!

Very early this morning we bid adios to Seville and boarded a plane for Bilbao. We took a bus to San Sebastian, a beautiful city on the coast with a nice sandy beach and clear water. The kids had a blast playing in the waves and they are now passed out cold. We are listening to the on-going chatter of people down on the street. It is still very lively now at almost 10:30p, but it is probably nothing compared to what we will see in two days in Pamplona...Ole!