Back to France

An exciting aspect of this trip has been leaving things open to possibility. Jacob and I both love that right now, October and November have no set agenda- we could go ANYWHERE (that our Renault contract permits). So it was with that sentiment in mind that we decided we'll leave Barcelona early and head to Correze, France for a couple weeks to house-sit. The family we are house-sitting for has sheep, chickens, ducks, goslings, chicks, a pair of mice and a rabbit so I'm really excited. Living in a rural setting with a hobby farm has been my dream so this lets me try one on for size and hope nothing expires on my watch.

In the meantime, we're going to enjoy the remaining week in Barcelona - be it ever so large and muggy. Last night we hung out and drank a couple pitchers of sangria with a Portland couple that we met back home through Couch Surfing. They are a bit younger than us and their Barcelona goals include finding a place to smoke hookahs and making it out to one of the islands for an all-night rave whereas we hope to finish our hot air balloon puzzle and maybe get a refund from the parking garage for leaving early. But despite our divergent interests, we spoke the universal language of desperately wanting to have a full-length conversation in our mother tongue. And it was a great excuse for us to get out and have a drink in the warm evening air.

Today we met a woman from Belgium and her 9 year old daughter at Cosmo Caixa (the science museum) and tomorrow we'll be camping on some property in the mountains for a couple nights - another Couch Surfing connection. Camping at actual campsites here is expensive (we were looking at about $50 a night) and we couldn't get a good feel on-line for the tolerance and safety around "unofficial" camping so this is perfect situation for us. Plus, our hosts have a pool we are welcome to use. Couch Surfing just continues to pay off for us left and right in ways that we didn't expect or imagine.

The pictures I've posted are from our visit to the Salvador Dali Museum in Figueres. The museum is built from the ruins of the Municipal Theatre which was destroyed in the Civil War. Dali oversaw the design and layout of the museum and it contains his drawings, paintings and sculptures from the 1920's all the way through the 1980's. I can't say we were able to see everything as it was very crowded and, in true Mestman fashion, we ignored what has to be the best warning ever to grace a brochure:

"A warning! If we take into account the idiosyncrasy of Salvador Dali, the origin of the Dali Theatre-Museum, then perhaps we ought to recommend you not to follow a preconceived route. However, despite this a one way route has been laid out. This only has the intention of guiding the visitor form the entrance to the exit without his missing any part of the Theatre-Museum. It does not have, nor does it wish to have, any systematic function nor chronological sense."

Barcelona Days - Chapter Two

For the most part, we are settling into life in Barcelona. We know where the nearest basketball hoop is and when it is most likely to be available but for the life of me I cannot get down when stores are open. Some are closed all day on Sunday, some on Monday and most close at some point in the afternoon and maybe they reopen early evening and maybe they don't.

After so many weeks on the road we both have our moments of restlessness and doubt- was five weeks too long to commit to Barcelona? Jacob starts looking into the costs of going to Morocco and I start fantasizing about house sitting for some French folks looking to have someone take care of their sheep and chickens (this is unlikely as they are looking for someone for three full weeks and I don't want to leave Barcelona more than a week early). We're considering a camping trip in the Pyrenees.

About the only one fully settled in is Vaughn who is super happy with our routine of basketball in the morning, beach in the afternoon and maybe a Simpsons episode or two in between. Homeschooling has been a little tough at times. We have had our moments like the morning we broke into two teams (Jacob/Vaughn and me) to research:

• Why thunder happens
• What happened when the Pope was shot
• How Roman aqueducts worked
• Why the North Pole is magnetic
• Information on Dr. J
• The age of the earth

All these topics or questions were generated by Vaughn off of things we read or saw or just whatever popped into his head and neither Jacob nor I had sufficient responses (kudos to you if you do- you are very smart). We each had to come up with at least five facts on our subjects to present to the other group. This is how I had envisioned home schooling- creative, natural and student led. I firmly believe that all children have a natural curiosity and drive to learn that will present itself if coaxed out correctly in a way that works for the child. Sounds pretty idyllic right? The reality is that despite having hours with nothing to do, Vaughn is often resistant to the small, structured assignments we give him. A skilled manipulator, he will point out that it is still technically summer and has even gone so far as to suggest that despite what his teacher, report cards and our own instinct tell us, he is not at the 4th grade level and therefore all the assignments are too hard for him. Like the parent of a picky eater who has to sneak in vegetables, we have to slip leaning activities in a way that does not suggest that he is actually working.

I have made an unofficial friend though. The first day that we went to the park so that Vaughn and Jacob could play basketball I sat on one of the benches to read. Lost in thought, I was startled to find an elderly woman shuffling my backpack off to the side of the bench to make room for herself. Smiling at me with her three little remaining teeth, she began chattering away in Spanish. As my brain worked furiously to decipher what she was saying I casually scanned the park to try and figure out why she had not sat on any of the other 12 remaining benches. I explained to her that I was sorry but that I only spoke a little Spanish (This is really my only full phrase but I think I say it with enough confidence that it somehow suggests I speak more than I do. I need to learn a follow-up phrase like, "No really - I don't speak Spanish" and maybe a back up, "Please stop thinking I speak Spanish because I have no idea what you are saying"). She slowed down and we made it through a few phrases before other octogenarians showed up in what was clearly a daily ritually of gathering at the park for gossip and chit-chat and she moved over to a bench where she could say more than, "It is hot" and "Yes, is hot." Older folks are out and about here in a way that I've not witnessed back at home. They're always dressed up and cruising around with their canes and walkers and it's nice to see.

So I've seen her a few times and she really helped me out in a pinch by lending me her cane when Vaughn's ball got stuck in the net (repeatedly) one day but I'm always thankful when others are there to chat with her because, as mentioned, I really don't speak Spanish. Today she got sort of frustrated with me when I couldn't understand her and actually started poking me in the chest with her bony finger after each word, like maybe my translator was broken or something. A few of her friends were gathered around it made an already awkward situation more awkward and kinda painful. Finally she left me in peace and I decided at that point to reclaim my anonymity and start sitting on the other side of the park.

Barcelona Days - Chapter One

Barcelona has the most beautiful people I've ever seen in a city. Even the old people here seem to have some sort of sexy/spry vibe going on. We have rented a flat here for five weeks through a guy named Gerard who we met on Couch Surfing. Gerard is spending the five weeks we are occupying his flat hitch-hiking through Iceland with pretty much just his tent. His housemates just moved out a week ago and he is happy to have help with the rent while he is gone and we are happy to have a place to nest for a bit, cook and save on expenses. Having a little space isn't a bad thing either.

The situation is better than we could have imagined. We are literally right around the corner from the awe-inspiring and sandcastle-like Sagrada Familia, Antoni Gaudi's basilica that that has been under construction since 1882 (expected completion date is 2026). Gerard has cleaned the flat to an immaculate level and actually went out and purchased food for us. With the help of his father, he researched our parking options in the city and finally recommended a garage just around the corner where he helped us negotiate a price of 200 Euros for the five weeks. It is an unexpected expense but there is virtually no free parking in the city so we are happy to have this option. He also arranged to have his sister and former flat-mate come over to meet us so that we know we have resource options, emphasizing that we should use them for recommendations and "not just in case of something bad." All three of them sweetly and affectionately tousle Vaughn's hair.

We have come hoping to improve our Spanish but Catalan is the predominant language spoken here and in some cases it is very different. Gerard warns us that the Catalan identity and pride (and disdain for the rest of Spain - remnants of the Spanish Civil War) is so strong here that some people may actually pretend not to understand us when we speak in Spanish. Nonetheless we cheerfully say 'hola' and bravely cobble together sentences when we need help.

**

After taking some down time and a day to explore part of the city, we decided to set out today to try and find a boogie board for Vaughn and a beach that wasn't too touristy. Jacob has wanted to get Vaughn a boogie board since France and we've not had any luck finding one for a reasonable price. Randomly, we stumbled upon the Spanish version of REI and plunked down 20 Euros for our board.

Finding a beach was a bit trickier since waves were practically non-existent. After dismissing our first few beach options we finally decided to just park and get out. We had to walk a little distance down the beach since our first stop had a pretty significant drop off. On our walk we were stopped by the lifeguard who told us that we couldn't use the boogie board for reasons we literally could not understand. Crestfallen, we made our way a little further down the beach and set down our towels. You would think we would have noticed earlier but since we were so close to the water it wasn't until we had settled in that we realized we were at a nude beach. We decided that we were too weary by the whole process (it had been maybe an hour and half since we initially left the house) to move and start over so we decided to clue Vaughn in and stay put. Vaughn took it in stride although for the life of him he could not understand why anyone would "put themselves in such an awkward position." The water was fantastic and warm and we had a great time swimming (clothed) until a second lifeguard explained to us that it wasn't just that we couldn't boogie board, we weren't allowed to swim altogether. It had rained in Barcelona the night before and I gather they close the beaches for two days each time after a good rain because the water gets dirty. Gross.

We stayed and hung out in the sun for a bit until our neighbor to the left decided that he needed to jog back and forth in front of us for the 20 yards of beach. When he stopped jogging and started doing jumping jacks (possibly to impress the woman to the right of us?) and we decided we'd had enough of our naked Richard Simmons and it was probably time to pack it up anyway.