Finding Fall in Andorra

I knew it was coming.  September 1st.  When the emails, pictures, and facebook posts would start rolling in, something along the lines of:

"Off to the apple orchard in my jeans and sweater to drink pumpkin coffee and eat cider donuts whilst sitting on a hay bale."

I'd be reading this, while the little a/c unit that could hummed alongside me, wondering how it is possible that it is October and I'm still wearing tank tops and sweating like a banshee.   

I know everyone loves fall.  But I really love fall. 

I'm a corn stalk buyin', pumpkin hoardin', apple pickin' freak.  Never mind that 3/4 of our little family here have birthdays in the fall, I just love the change...that feeling of hunkering down together inside, watching the cold wind whip the leaves around.  It's cozy, it's comfortable.  It's home.

Yes, I know missing fall is a small price to pay for living in a temperate climate abroad year round...and while we here in Barcelona will be having 65 degree sunny picnics in the park in March, everyone back home will be have changed their facebook posts to something along the lines of:

"Dear Winter:  If you could please pack your sh*t and leave, that would be great.  Thanks"

So I know this woe-is-me feeling will pass, but still...I had to do something.

I decided that if fall doesn't exist here in Barcelona, then I will make a fall.  The first order of business was paraphernalia.  The hand-print-leaf wreath the kids and I made wasn't quite cutting it.  Oddly enough...pumpkins are hard to find here.  Only just now, mid-October, am I seeing them, and they are not for decoration.  There are pumpkins sitting in the produce shop windows with huge chunks hacked out of them.  People actually go to a store, and order a certain gram amount of pumpkin, then the store owner chops it off, and gives it to them to cook.  Um, that's no fun.  I don't want some ugly, hacked into pumpkin, thanks.  I don't want to cook the damn thing, I just want to stare at it on my deck until it rots.  Why can't you people understand this?!

You will find our interpretation of an autumn leaf wreath on top

So you can imagine my delight when, last weekend, I found a street vendor on the main drag in Poblenou selling full on gourds and mini-pumpkins!  I think I freaked the poor woman out, wondering why anyone would be this freaking excited to buy oblong, wart covered gourds.  Regardless, I got a bowl full, and -- voila -- fall ambiance has been achieved.  This, coupled with my Yankee candle and some contraband US canned pumpkin, and we are practically a little Vermont orchard up in here. 

I also knew, in addition to making a fall, we also needed to find it.  Somewhere.  Taking the advice of a well traveled friend here in Barcelona, we had decided to book a trip to Andorra for mid-October for this exact reason.  I knew, back when we booked it, that I would be home-sick and fall-sick this time of year, and in need of some cold weather and a good hard "this-is-why-we-live here" slap in the face.

Boy did we get it.

Andorra was AMAZING.  This tiny little country is just a 3 hour drive from Barcelona, but feels like a different continent.  Set amid the Pyrenees mountains, this country is essentially a mountain range, with little towns dotted along the narrow valleys between them.  And while it is still technically within the region of Catalonia, it just looked and felt so incredibly different.  I watched with delight as the temperature kept dropping as we drove further and further from the coast, and into the mountains towards Andorra.  When we arrived, I have to say, even I was shocked by the change.  When we left Barcelona, it was 25 C (77 F)...in Andorra, it was 7 C (44 F).  Craziness.
   

We opted to stay on the French side of Andorra, taking advantage of the off-season prices of an insanely beautiful ski-resort.  The massive lobby was filled with over sized cushioned armchairs circling heavy wooden tables...and there were grandly decorated wings filled with mahogany bars and twinkling chandeliers.  It was spectacular, yet had a little of that creepy Shining-esque feeling to it, since it was kind of deserted up there.  Summer and winter are the big tourist seasons in Andorra, so we essentially had the place to ourselves.  All the more space for toddlers to run.  It was perfect. 

 

We introduced the kids to the concept of cocktail hour that first night -- relaxing in the lounge arm chairs with two glasses of wine for Chris and I, and two fancy little bottles of OJ with straws for the kids (Mia was especially taken with this practice, and announced she wanted to "have drinks" every night for the rest of the trip).  Yes, there was a fair bit of chasing the kids around the hotel, apologizing to the other patrons trying to enjoy their solitude as my children chased each other shrieking, but overall I think the kids charmed the pants off our fellow hotel guests and staff.  They can turn on the charm when they want to. 

It was just a great weekend.

Full of outdoor walks in the woods. 

And a trip up to a wonderful little outdoorsy themed amusement part called Naturlandia.  This place is set on a mountain peak with breathtaking views and great attractions for kids like pony rides, bouncy houses, tiny little battery run jeeps, and trampolines. 

There were more activities for bigger kids, like archery and in-line skating, plus -- the coolest ride I've been on in my life.  Tobotronic.  The longest Alpine coaster on earth.

You board this little sleigh-like contraption, and proceed to be pulled up to the top of the mountain -- it takes over 15 minutes to get to the top, and the ride down is 5km of track, flying down around 20mph.  Click here to see a sweet you tube video someone took on the ride down.  Some friends of ours from Barcelona had joined us for a couple of the days in Andorra, and had very nicely offered to watch the kids while Chris and I experienced Tobotronic together.  In that time, I think Mia fell in love with our friend Dario, and Evan got unlimited jeep and pony rides.

We drank mulled wine, ate fondue, had hot chocolate, and even got a few hours at the amazing hotel spa. 

The weekend was capped off with a snow dusted morning on Monday, giving us that grand-fall finale we needed to feel fully rejuvenated and ready to head back to the tropics...I mean, Barcelona.

Yet, it is actually starting to feel like fall here in Barcelona too...you just have to know where to look.  Like noticing the covers have been taken off the Chiringuitos (beach bars) allowing the weakening sun to access all the tables all day long.  And the restaurant signs along the beaches are all back in Catalan instead of English signaling the end of tourist season.  Hey, it's not pumpkin coffee, but it is a sign that the seasons are a-changin'.  I'll take it. 

Babes in Catalunya

The kids. 

I'd say they are thriving.

It was sort of a blessing and a curse that they are so young while we are having this adventure.  A blessing that they are too young to have close friendships or ties to school that would make this transition hard for them, but a curse because they really won't remember much of this experience looking back.  But I have to think, by being here in a big city and traveling together as a family, we are creating an environment that is conducive to learning and growing -- they may not remember every detail, or leave speaking fluent Spanish, but they will have the opportunity to see and experience things that expand their minds and encourage their curiosity.  At least, I hope this is the case. 

In their little love bug at Poblenou's summer carnival

Overall, the transition for them was fairly seamless due to their ages.   However, I will say, coming back from our US visit this summer was a bit sad.  Evan started crying when he saw our front door in Barcelona as we pulled up in the cab from the airport, and it broke my heart.  He is a family man, that Evan, and loved the time spent with his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  I think it was hard for him to see our house here, and realize that meant we were far away again and wouldn't be back for a while.  He did readjust quickly though, and we make sure to talk about family, show pictures, and remind him we can always talk on the computer with everyone whenever he wants.  Though, those two have Skype ADD, and the time change with their early bedtimes will forever make it difficult.  We will keep at it though, because I know how important ongoing contact is for us all...it is always something I want to keep working at improving on.

But then there are the positives...

Here in Barcelona, and perhaps Spain in general, people have a special affection for children.  I've mentioned this before, but I'd say 8 out of 10 people we pass on the street either stop to talk, or at least smile and pat the children's heads, as we walk by.  When they have little fits on the metro, there is usually an elderly woman near by who scoots down to distract Mia with her hand fan, or tickle her legs to make her laugh.  It's a nice way to grow up, in my opinion.  Having the whole world smile at you.  Children are included in everything...it doesn't matter how nice the restaurant is, how dangerous the festival is, or how late in the evening it is, children are there.  Families are together.  And while I, personally, enjoy a nice adult meal without the kids now and then, and know when it is better (for my own sanity) to leave them home...I can really appreciate the inclusion, acceptance, and love people have for children here. 

People from home ask me a lot if they are learning Spanish -- yes, but only a little.  They have their greetings down, and Evan completely recognizes what is Spanish and what is English as it is spoken.  It is true, at their age they are little language sponges ripe for learning and absorbing.  However, since we speak English at home, it really only works if they are put into a native school.  Here in Barcelona, the vast majority of children start school at age 3 -- and it is not "pre-school", they go to school just like 1st graders, all day everyday.  Additionally, the public schools here are all in Catalan -- pretty much a completely different language from Spanish. So, while technically Evan could be enrolled in public school here in Barcelona at his age, I wasn't thrilled with him spending 8 hours a day, every day, at school at age 3, and also wasn't super concerned with him learning Catalan since it is really only spoken in this region of the world.  Last spring, after we arrived, we had him enrolled in an international pre-school in the mornings.  They had four language groups: Spanish, Catalan, German, and English.  He loved it, but since they strongly urged us to stick with the English group, he wasn't hearing a whole lot of Spanish other than from the other kids on the playground. 

This school year we decided to just forgo pre-school altogether and send Evan to the pre-school of life :)  Diverting the tuition cost towards extra travel seemed prudent at this stage of the game -- especially since I'm home entertaining Mia all day anyway.  We figure, if we can show them more of the world in exchange for giving up circle time and runny noses, then we want to do it.  Kindergarten will still be there waiting for him when we return to the US in a few years.

So I'm up to my ears in toddlers these days, but, in a way they are entering a really nice stage making it easier when they are both together doing the same things, eating, and napping together.  They fight, of course, but I'm also starting to notice more and more that they really look to have the other close by at all times, and are finally starting to engage each other in play.  Mia will always adore Evan, but it took Evan a solid two years to accept that Mia, is indeed, here to stay and he might as well play with her, or at the very least, try and keep her alive.  They are starting to ask lots of questions about they way the world works, and making up their own little scenarios and ideas.  I'm no longer spending the day with little grunting, tottering little blobs (and I mean that with the greatest of affection), they are actually their own little people now and I feel very lucky to be able witness this. 

It is never boring.  Never.  We have a lot of parks and playgrounds close by, we run errands, we go to bookstores, and also have a playgroup we recently started going to one day per week.  It is a lot of balancing getting household stuff done, providing some stimulating activity for them (this does not always happen), and getting every one's basic needs met.  I will say it is MUCH easier now that we have almost fully adjusted to living here.  We have our routines, we know what we need, and where to get it.   I'm quickly forgetting those early weeks here when it felt like our entire world was turned upside down, and I didn't know which way was up...Life feels manageable, and dare I say it, normal?

 

 

Like every mother, I have moments of the day when I am one tantrum away from curling up in a ball and rocking myself in the corner of the room.  And for a while, it was easy to sort of get lost in that, especially when it was compounded by the frustrations that come with moving abroad.  But I've recently started trying to look at each day as an opportunity to make something great -- if I don't, I start to drown in the squabbles and the routines and to me, that is a waste of our time here and my time with my children. Yeah, it is damn hard, but, it is also hilarious and rewarding spending all day with two of my favorite people in the world. If we make chocolate chip cookies, we shall eat them in a fort.  If it is raining and we have cabin fever, then we will put on our crocs and bathing suits and find puddles to splash in.  And if all else fails, I pour a glass of wine and turn on Pocoyo.  Because sometimes that is pretty great too.  I will do the best I can, make the most of what I can, and forgive myself when I don't. 

Bottom line is, they are happy.  They are doing what almost 2 year-olds and 3 year olds do.  They are finding their independence, spreading their wings, and peeing all over the toilet seat.  Life is good.



Loving their new popcorn maker -- seriously, this is their favorite toy ever, thanks to my friend cleaning out her kitchen!



Catching kernals as they fly out

 

The Big 5 in Budapest

In the chaos of summer plans and travel, one important blog post seemed to have gotten lost in the shuffle.  Our two day, couple-only, trip to Budapest, Hungary back in July.

I have to give this little trip the blog post it deserves, because it was one of the most awe-inspiring, and foreign-looking, places I've ever been.

Let me back up.

When we got married, Chris and I made a little pact to travel to a new country every year we were married (the brilliant ideas you have as you drink mojitos on your honeymoon, when world domination also seems like a feasible possibility).  The plan was to start in Eastern Europe with a trip to Prague.  We booked the trip, and waited for the time to come when we would check off the first of what we hoped would be many trips traveling the world together. 

Shortly before we were scheduled to leave for the trip, Chris was offered a job opportunity he couldn't pass up.  Ultimately, he decided to take the job, but because of this change, he no longer had the time off and we had to postpone the trip until he was settled and had the time off again.

Then we had Evan.

Then we had Mia.

Needless to say, four years into our marriage, aside from our honeymoon, we still had not traveled abroad together. 

Since my mother, Grammie extraordinaire, would be here in Barcelona for two weeks over the summer, she had kindly offered to watch the kids for us if we wanted to head out for a night or two on an excursion somewhere to celebrate our 5th anniversary together.  Where to go?!  Where to go?!

After kicking around a few ideas...a night at a wine vineyard, Costa Brava, Rome...I stumbled on a flight deal to Budapest for 30 € round trip a piece.  Just a two hour flight, and we could be back to where we had intended for it all to begin -- Eastern Europe.  Although we had done a fair bit of traveling as a family since we arrived in Spain, this trip was something else entirely.  Two days alone.  Alone.  We booked it, along with an amazing hotel deal and some hints and tips from friends who had been there. 

Budapest had a whole different flavor from Barcelona.  It had...grit.  Battle wounds.  To me, the city itself felt like we were wandering through an old, yet grand, castle that had since been abandoned by the the royal family that once lived there.  You could see the somewhat tragic history of Hungary unfold in front of you...and also why it was voted one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, and the most livable in Eastern Europe.  It was an eclectic culture within the city center, but the earthy roots of the country was also all around.  Massive, intricate buildings dwarfing you with their size.  The winding Danube River, separating Buda from Pest (two separate cities until they were legally joined together to form Budapest in 1873) , buzzing with river cruises and illuminated by lights from the soul grabbing architecture that lines it.  It was breathtaking.  And horribly romantic. 

We arrived early the first day, and headed out immediately to have some lunch.  Here we faced a dilemma.  It was hovering in the 90 degree range the few days we were there, but we typically like to eat the local specialties while visiting a new place.  Hungarian cuisine is notable for their paprika laden hot goulash soups, earthy stews, and spice rubbed chicken dishes.  Not exactly what you are craving in the oppressive heat, but... when in Budapest...so, I ordered a cauldron (seriously, it came in a little black cauldron hanging from a wire support complete with a little flame below it) of stew, and Chris the goulash, hoping that the cold beers alongside them would help cool us off.  (They didn't.  But it still was a really yummy lunch.)

Because of my long winded story telling tendencies, I'm going to try and limit this to some highlights from our 48 hours...

*  The Shooting Club

The first night we had big plans.  A friend of mine here in Barcelona had recently traveled to Budapest with her husband, and had told me about one of her "must sees" while we were there.  The #1 rated Trip Advisor activity in Budapest...Celeritas Shooting Club.  Shooting any type of gun is kind of a unique experience here in Europe, due to greater restrictions and access to guns, and this club is run by police and military officials who have spent most of their lives training others how to use firearms.  They have a rare license to not only have possession of the kind of firearms they have, but also to allow them to let the public come in and shoot them.  At first glance, it wasn't necessarily something I was dying to do -- I'm not really a "gun person", but I knew Chris would freak.  I mean, honestly, what guy wouldn't die to get his hands on Dragunov sniper rifle?  Or a Colt M4 machine gun?  I had to do this for him.  And I had to keep it a secret.  I managed to keep it a secret until the plane actually touched down in Hungary, when I blurted it out..."WE'RE GOING TO SHOOT GUNS!!"  Then I immediately started pouting because I ruined the surprise.  Typical.

Anyway, Chris had the desired response to my premature surprise announcement, and had on his little boy smile (my favorite) for the rest of the day until we finally arrived at this somewhat sketchy looking "warehouse" of sorts.  If I hadn't already spoken to other folks who had great experiences here, I would have a been a little nervous driving up there. Once inside the warehouse, you are lead down stairs into what looks like a bomb shelter of  a basement.  A tiny little waiting room encased in cement walls, and a door akin to a psych-ward/high security prison.  There were a few other people already waiting -- a Belgian couple, a group of three British college guys, and a bachelor party of three guys from Canada.  We exchanged excited "where-the-hell-are-we" glances, and started talking...waiting for what would happen next. 



The waiting room

The owner comes out, gets us all checked in and goes over the safety instructions before leading us back to the actual shooting range. 

There in front of us is a freaking card table covered with weapons.
 

The experience itself?  It was a rush.  Scary, but definitely one of those moments when you feel like you are doing something unique in life.  Like standing in a Hungarian basement surrounded by automatic weapons.  Likely won't happen again.  And, even though it was scaring the bejesus out of me, it was kind of a personal challenge to just march past all the dudes when it was my turn, hold that rifle like I do it everyday, and blast that bulls eye. 

For me, the best part was seeing my husband's face through it all....  He was loving it.  Not only to use guns you only really see in video games or in the movies, but also to see his wife holding a semi-automatic weapon.  I have a feeling he didn't know I had it in me :)  Oddly enough, it was kind of the perfect way to spend our anniversary...blowing off steam and stress, bonding over a new experience, and seeing each other looking kind of sexy-bad-ass all at the same time.




Who got bullseye?  Oh, that's me.

*  The Szechenyi Baths

Budapest has the world's largest thermal cave system, with over 80 natural baths known for their healing properties.  Thanks to Rick Steves, and more insider tidbits, we knew the Szechenyi Baths had to be on our to-do list.  This place is the largest medicinal bath in Europe, encased inside an incredible palace-esque building created in 1913.  It doesn't get anymore relaxing then this.  Tourists, and locals alike come there to sit, soak, play chess, and catch rays.  All day long, groups of old Hungarian men gather to play chess on the built-in stone gameboards inside the baths, while the women bob along inside the lazy river.  Couples, kids, elderly...it seemed as though this was the place to congregate.

Now, I have to back up yet again.  I knew, as we packed for this trip, that spending time at the baths was a must, and made sure to remind Chris to pack his bathing suit.... several times.  Yet, there we were in Budapest getting ready to head over to the baths, and Chris discovers he forgot to pack it.  This both annoyed and pleased me...annoying because he has three perfectly good suits at home...yet pleased me because I knew what "suits" were available here in Eastern (or Western for that matter) Europe.  And they ain't no panama jack board shorts. 

Early on Day 2, we hit the front desk of our hotel to ask if they sold men's swimsuits. 

"Ah, yes of course.  Inside our spa, you will be able to purchase men's swimming trunks."

So off we went to the spa to inquire about getting Chris suited up for the day.  And there we stood, as the kind receptionist laid out the said trunks.  

"Yes, a medium.  Here you go."

Chris took them from her and held the minuscule piece of spandex up to get a better look, and it took me a minute to remember where I had seen undergarments like that before...then I remembered.  Evan's size 2T Gerber training pants. 

It was all I could do to keep from melting into a quivering pile of tears and laughter as I tried to envision my husband slipping into these little trunks.  I didn't want to disrespect the nice woman who had searched long and hard for the "right" size, so we held it together, put down the undies, smiled, and thanked her for her time as we giggled our way out the door.  Oh how I wish he had bought them.

As we suspected, there was a little tent set up outside the entrance to the baths selling suits of all shapes and sizes for only 3€ so we got Chris adequately covered and ready for some healing soaks.

Once inside the building, there are a series of indoor and outdoor baths, a spa, a restaurant, and I'm sure lots of other nooks and offerings.  We spent the entire morning, and the better part of the afternoon, soaking away...taking breaks every so often to lay in the sun, grab a cocktail, then get back in for more.  Incredible.  Just incredible.  When I think of that day, I remember feeling this overwhelming sense of gratitude and appreciation for where we were at that exact moment.   One of those "I-can't-believe-we-are-here" moments that make every hard part about living here well worth it.

I ramble...

I will sum the rest up by saying we did a lot of exploring.  We took the funicular up to Buda Hill and enjoyed the quaint winding streets.  We browsed handmade embroidery.  We rode the metro...the 3rd oldest in the WORLD.  We walked along the river and enjoyed an insanely good dinner amongst quite a collection of dead animals. I'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story, but I will say this trip was everything we expected and more...it fed our souls.

And many, MANY thanks again to my amazing mother for taking such fantastic care of our babies and making this incredible opportunity possible. 

Buda Hill

Walking along the Danube River

Our Dinner Guest(s)

The Parliament looking across the river from Buda to Pest