Alone at Last...Costa Brava

The romantic getaway.  It happened.

I will say, generally, Chris and I are pretty good about making time for just he and I here and there.  Monthly-ish dinner dates, morning coffee outside his work, or even just a quick drink after the kids are in bed.  It's not easy with small kids, nor is it cheap relying strictly on babysitters, so it is never as often as we would probably like or need, but we try.  To have those moments when you can be alone and realize, YES!  I know this person!  I freaking love this person! We're still "us", just "us" in parents' clothing.  It's easy to forget sometimes.

Almost a year had past since we had an entire night away alone.  Not a tragedy by any means, but for us it was important to make some time for ourselves, and also feel like we were able to enjoy at least some of the adults-only kind of trips we kept reading and hearing about from our childless friends, even if just for a day.  One night mid-May we suddenly realized it was now or never (before we leave Europe that is).  If we wanted to get away for the night, now was the time.  Summer was packed with events and more travel home to the US, and after that I would be too pregnant to enjoy much of anything and would soon become a package deal with a little 9 lb. meatball as my chaperon.  No, we had to make this happen NOW.

We had passed signs for Costa Brava during our drives up to France, and had heard from many locals and expats just how beautiful it was up there.  Costa Brava is a stretch of coastline about 50-100 km north of Barcelona.  The region is made up of several towns stretching pretty much up to the French boarder.  Ultimately, we decided this was the place to go.  It was close to home, a quick 1-2 hour drive, inexpensive to stay, and was best enjoyed laying in bed listening to the sound of the waves with your windows open...alone. 

Initially we were looking into staying in the town Cadaques, on a friend's suggestion, but ended up finding a great hotel deal in Roses, just one town south on the same little spit of land.  Bonus:  Roses happens to be the home to some of the best cuisine in all of Europe.  Some have described this tiny town as a stop on a "gastronomic pilgrimage"...I assume this is fancy chef talk for "people looking for good food", but it sounded important and something I wanted to be a part of.  We had yet to experience mind-blowing Spanish meal since we had arrived in Spain, so this seemed like the perfect time to dive in.  So the plan for the weekend was to bask in alone time, have a phenomenal piece of fish, and enjoy the view. 

I have to say... leaving the kids wasn't that easy.  I had never left my kids with anyone who wasn't a family member overnight.  We've had the same babysitter helping us out here and there for over a year now, someone we have grown to really care about and trust, and even still...it was hard.  But ultimately, I had to remind myself: we were gone for 24 hours, hardly any different than just a regular old day or night of babysitting, and our babysitter was more than capable.  I made lists.  I made lists of lists.  I highlighted, circled, and underlined.  I left back up numbers and assembled emergency packets, until finally I felt OK about it.  I will say once we said our goodbyes, and the door was shut, both of us were practically in a full sprint laughing all the way to the car.  Is that bad?

Even just the drive alone feels like a vacation.  Chris and I drivers.  It feels good to talk without interruption, have time to look at the window in silence, and just take it all in.  Those are the moments, those quiet moments, when you are really seeing what is around you, when I feel like I couldn't pinch myself hard enough to realize where I was in that moment.

Especially when we checked into our hotel, and opened up our terrace door to this.....

We decided then and there the terrace windows would be open for the next 24 hours.

We hit the boardwalk down by the beach...lined with little shops, restaurants, bars, and souvenirs.  I love that when we are alone, we never have to plan.  We stop when we want to stop, eat when we want to eat, and walk where we want to walk.  We didn't take many pictures, it was more about enjoying the moment, enjoying each other.

We found some seats outside at a cafe, ordered some chipirones a la plancha along side a beer for Chris and a Nestea for me and got to talking about dinner.  Of course, I'm always planning my next meal these days.  Prior to moving to Spain, I had poured over a PBS series with my girl Gwenyth Paltrow and Mario Batali called: "Spain: On the Road Again".  We both remembered seeing an episode that took place in Roses, with a featured restaurant that looked like the real deal kind of seafood joint called Rafas.  Apparently this was one of Ferran Adria's (world famous Catalan chef -- don't worry, I don't know who he is either) favorite restaurants.

After winding up and down the tiny little backstreets with the help of smart phone navigation, we stopped in front of an unmarked, darkened restaurant.  The lights were off, but the front door was open, so we peeked inside.  There he sat.   A gruff looking man sitting inside reading the paper amid a cloud of cigarette smoke. There was no sign, but we recognized the owner immediately.  This was it!  Now what?  With that kind of press, there was no way we would be able to get a reservation...could we?  I certainly didn't have the balls to walk in there and ask, this didn't seem like the "we welcome sunburned tourists" kind of a place, so Chris took one for the team and, after offering up a "Bon Dia", asked if it was possible for us to get a reservation for tonight.  A quick check of the reservation book, and the answer was "Si..si...ocho y media?"

We got it!  By Spanish standards, we were getting the early bird special at 8:30pm, but we didn't care.

We arrived back at 8:30pm on the dot, and were led to our table.  The place is like nothing I've experienced before.  It is tiny, casual, and as simple as it gets.  There are about 8 tables, and no menus.  Basically the owner waits for the daily catch to be delivered that day, and displays the entire fish in a glass case as you walk in.  You pick the fish you want, and he prepares it right there on the flat grill, or as the Spanish call it, a la plancha.  It is prepared with just a little sea salt and olive oil.  We choose sole and monkfish, along with more chipirones (small squid), and a side salad of fresh tomatoes and onion.  Easily one of the best seafood dinners I have eaten in my life...although majorly overpriced, considering the simplicity of it all.  Still, worth the experience in itself. (The restaurant pics aren't ours, I was too chicken to take pictures inside in fear of looking like an uncool tourist.  Pretty sure I looked like an uncool tourist anyway.)

After adequately stuffing ourselves with fish, we walked along the shore back to our hotel.

The next morning we hit up the free spa inside the hotel, soaking in the hot tubs and sitting on the roof deck.

Roman ruins across the street, seen from the roof deck

Chris checking out the view from the roof

We headed out around noon, the clouds were starting to gather, almost as if to say "time's up!"...we headed back towards Barcelona, feeling grateful for the time away and so glad we made it happen.  It wasn't long, just over 24 hours, but it was exactly what we needed and wanted.

Feeling Happy

I've missed a lot in this blog.  I've said it before...it was a busy spring and summer full of incredible trips and moments I know I want to remember with words and pictures.  I'll get there I suppose (Pre-school starts next week, and I'm dreaming of quiet mornings with a little raspberry leaf tea, cooking, and blogging...).  Trips are important to remember.  But lately I'm finding a lot of inspiration in just putting on my headphones early in the morning and taking the dog for a walk.  When the rhythm of a Poblenou morning is put to music, everything starts to look like something choreographed from a musical.  Especially on the mornings when I wake up exhausted, weighed down, and deflated.  Then I go outside.

Our street, just starting to wake up

The fresh market behind our house

Barcelona was meant to be experienced outside.  Period.

The sun.  It's different here, I can't explain it, but it is.  I can quite literally feel life seeping into me when it hits my skin.  When I get to the end of our road, and walk across the palm tree lined street to the sprawling park...the sea ahead of me, the sun above me, and the stresses of life tucked away so far I forgot where I put them.

When I hear the music in my headphones, and am surrounded by this beauty, I'm inspired.  I remember to look down at this growing belly, proud and happy this child is growing and thriving during a time when life is good, and slow, and simple.  Even he himself contributes to this.  From the very beginning, his very presence has often provided me this sense of reassurance.  When I saw him for the first time on ultrasound, I didn't experience the typical giddy excitement or amazement, but rather a sense of peace and calm.  Almost like he was looking at me, telling me, "It's all going to be OK...I'm here and I belong with you, and it's going to be just as it should be."

He's kicking up a storm now that I'm talking about him, happy to finally get some attention today. :)

So far he's been a laid back little dude.  Unassumingly growing as the world whirled around him.  Making his presence known in a way that was different from previous pregnancies.  Odd as it may sound (and this was certainly NOT the case with my previous two pregnancies), I actually feel happy to share space with him.  He makes me feel more beautiful.  It could be this is my last pregnancy, and I'm more accepting because of it.  Knowing I have about 3 weeks left of this part of my life makes the aches, pains, weight gain, and exhaustion seem a little less annoying.  I have a little more perspective this time around...to know that, just like everything else when it comes to children, the hard parts don't last forever, and you will undoubtedly look back on every stage and moment remembering only warm and fuzzy feelings.  I want badly to hold onto what is good, both with this pregnancy and with this short and special time here in Barcelona...and try not to dwell on the fleeting discomforts.  To hang on to the excitement of the "how's this all gonna end?" aspect of this part of pregnancy...when will he come...what will he look like...who is this little person?

Today was a great day.  We went down to the park to wander and enjoy just being together outside in our neighborhood.  The bubble man was out, and for once, we weren't in a hurry to get to or from some place, so we took the opportunity to stop and let the kids play with the bubbles for as long as they wanted.    There are just way too many great pictures to choose from, so here they all are...