July 27-31 … on to Madison!

We enjoyed a regal repast of stuffed peppers and other delicacies not available in Andorra, and I headed north to Milwaukee.  Gabe planned to stay a couple nights with his now-former roommates, helping one of them celebrate a birthday and getting a little more hang time.  He arrived home Thursday late afternoon, just in time to spring me from work a tick early.  We headed right up to the Fox-Bay to cash in our pre-ordered tickets for Harry Potter, which we both enjoyed.

Now it’s Friday, and time for him to get packing.  But there’s a doctor appointment and an eye appointment and some things to do at the bank … not many boxes got filled.  He did get focused on Saturday and we were able to get things down into the garage and rearrange some furniture to make the movers’ job on Friday easier.  The work slopped into Sunday, so I just drove him on out to Madison….no more time to catch the bus and make connections there.

That pleasant duty did give me a chance to drive through the EPIC “campus” … very impressive architecture and some fun whimsical touches (a “Tin Man” made from culvert corrugate, and others).  That did demonstrate the need for Gabe to get me keys to his place before Friday, the original idea to swing by there and pick them up from him would take far too long.

A couple of carts worth of boxes and stuff delivered to his room and I’m gone.  The hotel scene was just like freshman year at the dorm – EVERYONE checking in was reporting to EPIC the next day.  I returned to Milwaukee and put in 4 days of work, Gabe put in 5.

Friday morning the movers arrived to truss up the piano and pick up the other items headed for his pad.  The truck was hardly full (mine will be MUCH worse!).  I chased out the freeway and beat them to the unit by about a half-hour, long enough to get the door propped open and take a quick look around.  Almost everything fit where it was intended to go, the piano looked great in its corner of the living area, and next thing I knew the movers were gone.

Still had a few hours before picking Gabe up, so I unpacked the kitchen boxes and did a little more organizing; picked him up and loaded the stuff in the hotel room into the van.  He left, and I met friends for dinner at a lovely Indonesian restaurant near the lakefront.  They dropped me at the hotel, Gabe slept at home, and I slept well.

He picked me up in the morning, we did a little grocery shopping and got back to the apartment.  Tragically, no time to attend the Dane County Farmers’ Market just a few blocks up the street, but Comcast was installing and the roommates parents were in and there was plenty of activity to attend to.  A few more errands and I was, very pleasantly, thanked and dismissed.  A good thing as I was ready for a good night’s sleep!

July 26 … back home again

An early breakfast and off to the train.  We decided to check the other suitcase and, literally, lighten the load.  A good thing it was, too, as security was pretty tight that morning and both of our carry-on bags were selected for personal inspection.  Guess they’re in training for the upcoming Olympics next summer.  Nothing of note in the bags except the container for Gabe’s contact-cleaning solution was too big, so he lost that even though it was only half-full.  Remember that 3 oz/100 ml maximum!

Another comfortable flight with movies, food, and champagne … I confess I did take a lengthy nap.  Upon touchdown in Newark we had to claim both bags since it was our “port of entry” into the USA.  We found the one checked this morning right on the conveyer, and it began to look like Gabe’s misgivings were well-founded.  However, a final look around revealed that the bag checked in Barcelona had actually arrived FIRST and been placed on the floor for easy access.  Phew!   We then had to clear immigration & customs; that done, we tossed the checked bags back on the belt for the final leg to O’Hare.

Smooth sailing back to the Midwest, and by the time we claimed the luggage for the last time, Linda was pulling up to pick us up.  Beautiful!

July 25 … London, Part 2

Arrived in Heathrow via Frankfort and thank HEAVENS we checked that bag.  Arrived with just 30 minutes to gate time for connection to London, only to find that we’re several concourses away from the new gate.  There are elevators, but few and no time to wait.  Head for  the stairs…to find it’s some six flights down, to an under-runway tunnel.  The second people-mover was out of service.  We get to the end only to (naturally) face running UP the same endless flights of stairs, then pacing down to the very end of the concourse.  No plane.  Turns out there’s no real GATE there … you pass security and go down to a bus.  The bus waits for a few more people, then drives and drives and drives and finally winds up in a parking lot of airplanes, no permanent structure anywhere around.  No jetway therefore, just clamber up the stairs with your remaining energy.  Thankful again for first-class status, there was a guaranteed place for the bag we continued to carry and, of course, seats and refreshments.

Heathrow itself was friendly, we bought round-trip tickets on the express train to Paddington Station and taxied over to the hotel from there.  We relaxed for a bit and then headed over to the Italian restaurant where we had dinner reservations before the show.  A short walk over to the theater, and we are in a mob scene of high intensity.  While I did know we had nabbed the last two tickets for this show, somehow it seemed like things would be tranquil on a weeknight.  NOT!  Gradually we worked ourselves toward our seats, which were Row J in the center of the orchestra.

No surprise, the production was outstanding and I was pleased that Gabe was thrilled with the show.  Afterwards we set out walking, we HOPED toward the hotel.  It was a pleasant night, but as the blocks went by there were fewer people on the street and we finally grabbed a taxi for the remainder of the distance.  And we really WERE headed in the correct direction, Gabe has a very good internal GPS!

July 23-24 … Barcelona, Part 2

we left Andorra TOTALLY fogged in again, couldn't see a car length in front of yourself. Of course, we felt under the gun as we left about 9:30 and had to have the car turned in by 12:30 and theoretically it's a 3.5-hour drive. so creeping down the hairpin turns in second gear was raising the blood pressure a bit, both for us and for the bolder folks behind us.

Happily my hopes were realized and as we descended, we got below the clouds and could potter along at the speed limit (still frustrating to those behind, but I can only do so much public service at a time...). The day cleared out to sunny and fine, Gabe had some fun getting camera shots in the large tunnels.  Then the GPS lady took us on a back-roads tour of some lonely part of France -- very pretty, but very unnerving as well. A nicely paved but absolutely one-lane road, where I suspect the locals have figured out that anyone coming from our direction is lost and doesn't know the rules -- the several oncoming cars we faced all dived into a little turnout and we slid past. Maybe luck of the draw (I didn't see many little turnouts on our side of the road) ... but ya' wonder if the local lore has picked up on the results of creative GPS guidance. "Henri, recall when we only saw neighbors on the local roads?" "Oui, Marie, and these strangers all seem to be hearing voices!"

Drive to Barcelona photos

we were much more efficient in our return to Diagonal Mar than we were in our loopy (literally) attempts to leave it a week ago. Had time to dump all possessions at the hotel, find the gas station (which I remembered being near and on the left, Gabe remembered being far and on the right ... it was far and on the left) and top off the tank ... we barely used half-a-tank of gas the entire trip, we were impressed with that ... and then dump the car into a random parking space a level below where we picked it up. We thought carefully about taking the exit and trying to go up a level, then said to ourselves ... best leave THAT to the pros! the Hertz guy can put his car where he darn well pleases ... long after we're gone.

There's a pool deck at the 2nd-floor level, so Gabe suited up and we had a (VERY) light lunch of deep-fried chicken skewers and a tossed salad -- actual protein and fresh greens, HEAVEN! Of course, at ungodly cost, but whatever. Gabe swam a bit, I hung out in the shade; eventually we got back upstairs and got the room organized just a little. Gabe got into major furniture moving so as to put enough distance between he and me that our respective night noises would be somewhat diminished. Quixotic, eh??

So here we were, with some chilled wine and beer, and decided to watch the Harry Potter Part 1 since we will see Part 2 back in Milwaukee Thursday night (Gabe definitively did NOT want to see it dubbed in Spanish, and I certainly would have missed the entire thing that way). After that lunacy, we ambled down to the main restaurant and had a delightful meal; Gabe had fish and I had pork, then we split a couple of fruit-y desserts. We slept well!

This morning we hit the breakfast buffet and then the child simply melted back to sleep. Hours and hours later I finally get him roused; meanwhile navigating the tar pit of trying to print boarding passes & the tickets to the guitar concert tonight. Internet access has been an unending money pit except for the community center in Andorra. To print the flippin' documents was 35c a minute AND a page. The printed balked out and I had to go access the stuff on another laptop ... growf. But to my amazement, checking in for our morning commute to London via Frankfort ALSO generated the boarding passes for the Tuesday flights from London to EWR to ORD. We are discussing checking one of our bags so we can carry on the more fragile stuff, and based on the boarding pass parade, I'm thinking if we check it here it will be tagged to O'Hare ... awesome. Gabe's response was not so positive -- his initial position was that NOT ONE ITEM OF HIS would be in any such bag. Don't know if he's calmed down a bit now, guess I'll find out when we pack later.

We're just back from a brief visit to the beach, I couldn't leave without having waded in the Mediterranean, and he had a nice swim with some big old waves to catch from time to time. The plan is to pack, dine, and head out to the concert (which, very Spanish, curtains at 9PM). In the morning, take bags down to breakfast and eat'n'run. Wicked tickets tomorrow night in London ... then back to the grind. I truly don't think I'd like to live this way forever, but there surely have been some lovely aspects to running away from home for a while!

July 17-23 … Andorra, part 3 of 3

The weather here in this seriously roof-of-the-world place is TOTALLY variable ... it alternates (not predictably) between sunny days highs in the low 70's, to totally fogged/clouded in with 150% humidity and highs in the 50's.  The last day we had planned to drive around the country, but it was pouring and foggy.  I could hardly believe when I went to move the car at 9AM that the radio station was playing Gene Kelly singing “Singin’ In The Rain.”  You could not make this stuff up!

Some ruminations on Andorra …

• We’ve had a great time, since the goal was to spend quality time together; however, my advice to someone coming to explore that bitty country would be -- make no plans!  Just take advantage of whatever opportunities the weather provides. 
• There are NO stop signs here!
• The other thing that was totally beyond WEIRD ... our week there was a vacation "condo" rental deal.  So we had rudimentary kitchen stuff ... but there was NO fresh produce or meat/poultry available at all.  You could get ham/sausage and cheese, and canned/jarred vegetables, but nothing fresh whatsoever until we stumbled into a new place our last day.  Just as well... a stalk of celery was going for 2.6EU, more-or-less USD5.00 ... and it was old and limp.  In a colder case there were three former fowls of some sort, quite dry-looking and sporting large brown spots in various places.  I hoped that was where the darker feathers grew.  Better to live in ignorance sometimes!

July 17-23 … Andorra, part 2 of 3

Monday, we settled into this week’s routine:  light breakfast and out of the room by 9AM to avoid parking charges on the street.  Head down to the sports center; Gabe utilizes WiFi for a bit while I read or stitch; then he swims & I get computer time.  He towels off (no soap, no towels, swimming cap required no matter how short your hair is), we burn a little more time to 1P, return to the room for lunch.  Get out again by 4P, return by 7, buy an hour for 50c, and have dinner & to sleep.

In the afternoon, we set out to explore the “super mercados” which are prominent in every block.  Silly us, thinking there would be FOOD offered; to judge from these places, the populace exists on nougats, cheese, cured meat, and canned produce.  Maybe they do.  We are in such advanced fresh-food deprivation that it defies imagination. So far out of a good dozen "super mercado' places, we have found 2 oranges worth buying. Other offerings included a total of perhaps 4 wrinkled lemons, a half-dozen half-rotted peppers, NO salad ingredients whatsoever. No liquid milk (powdered is in good supply, for better or for worse). Potatoes and onions are in good supply. No fresh meat or poultry, only ham, sausage, and similar "cured" items, and cheese. Don't know WHAT the locals do to eat, maybe it's all gardens. The best salad we've found so far came from ... Burger King???  Now, THAT stings!

Perhaps we should have been warned, the local tourist-bureau pamphlets note that “the gastronomy of Andorra is the legacy of the former village people who with time have received and assimilated the influences of French and Catalan cuisine.”  The “typical dish” is Trinxat and here’s the recipe:  take one green cabbage, 1.3 kg potatoes, 4 cloves of garlic, four strips of streaky bacon; boil the cabbage for 20 minutes; add the chopped potatoes.  Separately, fry the whole garlic until golden.  Fry the bacon in the same pan until crisp.  Drain the vegetables & combine with the oil; mash until well-mixed.  Serve with the bacon.  Salt-of-the-earth, yes; would you travel here to get some?  Maybe not so much!

Found a pizza place that had a parking spot; ordered a fish soup (turned out to be a VERY strongly fish-flavored broth, with side offerings of a turmeric paste, grated white cheese, and croutons) and a tomato-and-mozzarella salad (decorated with miniature lettuce leaves down each side – a total of 8, perhaps an eighth of an ounce in total?), then a couple of pizzas.  Wow, what a mistake.  The crust was crunchy but entirely white, not a trace of caramelization to add flavor.  There was a smear of something red which could have been tomato sauce, but no flavor came through.  Gabe ordered one with smoked salmon; I ordered a vegetarian.  I could taste the vegetables a little, but the cheese over them was tasteless.  Gabe’s salmon was strong.  All in all … no need to repeat though we did box up the pieces we couldn’t finish.  We had a bit more for dinner and Gabe bravely ate the remainder the following day.

In all fairness to the town, once you ignore the “duty-free” shopping experience, there is charm to be found.  The streets are very steep and narrow, so we plan our walking routes with some care.  The herd of horses & cows we often see from our window is augmented by a much more local herd – there’s a road sign warning you to watch for cows, and yesterday there was one plodding up the hill smack in the middle of my lane … had to use the passing lane to get by.  They do seem to have the run of the place, and no doubt money Is saved as there’s no need for Parks & Recreation to mow the medians as long as the cows are munching it all down!

(This puts me in mind of an NPR factoid I heard on the radio in Chicago years ago, appropriately enough while waiting on one of the downtown drawbridges to come back down – the legal definition of a bridge is “an obstruction to a navigable waterway.”  Does that make the road an obstruction to a munchable meadow??)

Something I personally have been noticing is the utter lack of English here, not even offered as a translation language on food packaging.  While I can often figure out the printed word “close enough” in Spanish, French or German, conversation beyond “hello” and “thank you” is entirely beyond me.  Gabe is navigating us well in Spanish (Andorra, it turns out, is much more strongly French and is co-ruled by the French President, but speaks primarily Catalan as does Barcelona), but I am feeling entirely illiterate – obviously something meaningful is held in all these sounds I can’t de-code, but I have no idea what it might be.  A very odd feeling indeed!

We got edge pieces done on the second puzzle, only to discover that IT is too large to fit on ANY table in the room.  As much of the top is sky again, we’ll do the fun parts down below and break camp at that point.

Wednesday was ideal all day long; Gabe and I trekked together for a couple hours i the morning (I'm sure the slope would not even qualify as a "bunny hill" but it was plenty for these old knees!).  I enjoyed natural seating on a large boulder overlooking parts of the local cow herd (complete with bells, apparently each one uniquely tuned!) and a nice waterfall, while he went scouting a bit further.  We tramped back down to the car, where I was to amuse myself while he summited the large lump-o-mountain at the entrance to the village.  He actually DID that (complete with navigating a cow-proof fence, you wiggle through a little maze that's not hard for a person but not even vaguely conceivable for a cow) over the course of a couple of hours, calling my cell phone from the top.  with some luck, he will feel accomplished enough that he doesn't need to go after Mt. Everest just because it's there  :)

Gabe's allergic to grass (came in VERY handy when the concept of mowing the lawn raised its ugly head!) and of course had some close contact with same as he clambered up and down this hillside.  The big old hives were popping, but he popped an AllerFre and took a nap, and woke up totally in remission. 

Andorra photos
The Climb photos

July 17-23 … Andorra, part 1 of 3

When booking rooms in Barcelona, I was bemused to find two Hilton properties on the same Avenue Diagonal.  Turns out they’re miles apart; we stayed in the older property but will bunk at the newer one, at the Diagonal Mar shopping center right on the seashore, when we return.  That’s also where we picked up our (manual-transmission) rental car for the run up to Andorra, and a couple of big Ravensburger picture puzzles for amusement during our week up high.  I hoped to start out in a less-crowded place and flee directly to the freeway, but due to vague maps and overall traffic stress we had fits (Gabe) and starts (Carolyn) before we wound our way onto the road out of town.

The drive northward included a few tolls which we hadn’t really anticipated, but it was lovely country and the traffic mostly was light.  Many structures to notice up high on hilltops and mountainsides, from contemporary mansions to clearly-ancient forts.  Lots of Catalan flags!  I had thought it might be hard to convert to kilometers as a speed measurement, but it was easy just to match the number on the speedometer to the number on the speed limit signs (sometimes to the frustration of Gabe or other drivers).

Then we got to the point of local roads and things got a bit more interesting.  Again, our maps lacked the level of detail we needed, so we had a number of U-turns and a finally a right-turn onto an unmarked road which … ultimately … DID link up with the route number we were seeking. PHEW!   The route rapidly became winding and mountainous, and the village names all came with altitudes.  The road was well-populated with motorcycles (all proceeding at breakneck pace) and the occasional bicyclist (WOW).  With one final wrong turn through a l—o—n—g toll tunnel, with a sympathetic toll-taker who allowed us to turn around and go back without paying the toll, we found our little village  of Pas de la Casa.

The Road to Andorra photos

NOW the trick was to find the actual VENUE at which we were to stay.  A couple of false starts and directions from new sources (as the map we had was not in sufficient detail…) we arrived at “Calgary 88” and got checked in.  We had been unsuccessful earlier in trying to reach anyone here, seeking to determine the amount of the security deposit and whether it could be accomplished by credit card or if cash would be required.  The vacation club folks finally made contact and confirmed to us, but as we met the man in charge, it became clear why communication was so challenging – he’s only around for very finite windows, and apparently not every day.  He rents by the week, and check-in is available for 2 hours Saturday afternoon; check out for 2 hours Saturday morning.  Don’t even THINK about asking for an extension!  He’s friendly enough, but does leave the impression that this inn is NOT his top priority.

After an energetic reading of the rules & regulations, we accepted our room keys and set out to find parking “wherever we could.”  Street parking must be paid between the hours of 9A-1P and 4P-8P. GO FIGURE!!!  And of course, only with Euro change – you get a little printed chit to display on your dashboard.  We found a place a ways up the street, noticing that we were surrounded by bars & pizza places – across the street (you could NOT make these things up!) was the Milwaukee Sports Bar, stars'n'stripes included.  Looked like we wouldn’t have a challenge finding dinner.

The lodging is definitely geared to overcrowded ski-bum clientele.  There are 2 bunk beds and a flop-down double bed on the wall, but the advertising says the room holds up to 6.  Presumably the two remaining are sleeping in the easy chairs??  Make-your-own bed, take out your own trash; no dish soap, no sponge, no coffee mug … the “laundry” facilities advertised turn out to be a commercial laundry next door, happy to do our two bags of laundry for 10 Euros each.  (Needless to say, we’re coming home loaded with clothes to wash for free!)  It overlooks a lovely green mountain slope (well, sheer cliff really!) which is tended by a variable bunch of cows and horses.  Gabe, who has much more experience with ski-bum venues, pronounces this one quite acceptable for the genre.

No Internet access in this building, so we wandered down the hill a ways to a café that offered access for a Euro an hour.  Googling the Milwaukee Sports Bar found a nice review of the place -- great music apparently. And almost as remarkable is the Kamikaze Surf Bar -- I mean, Can You See The Surf from where you are?  The cafe was flanked by a bit of a grocery store and also offered some nice-looking pastries; we laid in some staples (noting the entire absence of meat, fresh produce of any type, or fluid milk), hopped on line, and got back up to the room.

Around 7:30P we set out to find a pizza for dinner, only to discover that every place within a block or so was closed for the summer.  We finally settled for chicken sandwiches & a big salad from Burger King, giving ourselves the excuse that “it’s the first night” … we just need some nourishment.  We got a bit organized and headed for bed, leaving the door to the tiny balcony (usable only to test the outdoor temperature or, possibly, to chill your beer) open for fresh air.

Well, it’s Saturday night in a resort town.  Several waves of revelers ambled around close enough to wake us up at regular intervals.  The beds are thin, well-worn mattresses over wood slats … quite stiff and unforgiving.  My left leg kept twitching, a result of getting more exercise than it has in decades since now become reacquainted with the workings of a clutch.  By the middle of the night, I was ready to check out in the morning and flee to somewhere more civilized.

But in the morning, better sense prevailed.  We enjoyed our pastries and the remainder of the food we’d brought up from Barcelona; I made instant coffee in a cereal bowl and drank it mindfully with two hands.  The forecasted weather had arrived:   you could've surfed down any of the village streets at various points. So foggy that one could hardly see across the street, then it poured off and on. A VERY fine day to stay inside.  We did explore  the community sports center where Gabe bought a week pass, he plans to swim every day ... and I can come in and wait for him and there's free WiFi. LOVERLY!!!

We got about 650 pieces into a 1000 piece puzzle of elephants in front of an African sunset. It was too wide for the table so we had to clear the sideboy to get the edges done. Almost all the stuff with any pattern was completed and we faced the thankless, but heroic, task of making all the solid-color areas fill in. Eventually we gave up on that, just not enough payback for a truly painstaking job.

July 14-16 … Barcelona, Part 1

Off to Barcelona; we munched some ham and cheese we’d had in the room; flirted with checking our bags but decided to hang onto them.  It was raining as we came in, but improved for a pleasant evening. We are in the heart of "fine shopping" so we will need to go elsewhere to have fun. Probably do a bus tour tomorrow, Gabe's been here briefly before but certainly lacks the familiarity he has with Sevilla.  On the way in from the airport, the silly man asks me how many days we have the rental car to drive around and get used to manual transmission before we head into the mountains. ZERO of course ... rent the thing and run!

Took 2 bus tours yesterday, saw many MANY sights and learned a lot about how Barcelona grew from a simple seaport to a large metropolis.  Many of the small towns which were absorbed keep their original name as a neighborhood identifier, and each seems to have a specialty area to attract visitors.   Lots of Gaudi – hadn’t realized how MUCH! – and of course the massive cathedral still under construction.  Traffic here beyond description; on many blocks vehicles were at a standstill, including two or more of “our” tour busses.  Though I sat “up top” for both tours, the sunscreen Gabe picked out in Sevilla worked well.  At the end of the second ride, I enjoyed a Gabe-guided tour of La Rambla, a combo of shopping street and flea market.  He had been here before and remembered where the REAL market was – straight out of Cleveland’s West Side Market but about 10 times the size.  We picked up some nougat & some beverages and Metroed on back to the hotel.  Wish we had laid in some of the beautiful produce! 

Barcelona was busy with survey-takers in the areas where we were walking, so it was not a surprise when a young woman stopped Gabe and asked for a minute.  What WAS a LOVELY surprise was that she assumed he was a Spanish national “because you don’t have any accent!”  She pursued a few followup questions (was he a permanent resident??) in hopes of recruiting him for some program, but he was just glowing with the casual compliment, as he should have been!

The room mini-bar had a sign prominently notifying you that simply removing any item from the ‘frig would automatically charge it to your room.  So we went off in search of ice, finding a machine in the fire stairs by the elevator lobby.  The machine on OUR floor was out of order, but with some patience we were able to fill our needs from machines on the adjoining landings.  With cold beer and wine available, we settled in to watch The Social Network, which Gabe had not seen.  Despite the hefty fee, it was a worthwhile investment.

Finally, looking forward to our return to the city, we booked tickets to a guitar recital which should be a special treat.

Random observation on differences between Europe & USA … haven’t had a hotel with more than one fire-escape route so far.  At home, of course, a minimum of two and often more options.  Happily, no fires or file drills either though!

Barcelona photos

July 10-13 … Sevilla

Our itinerary was exotic … Schiphol to Zurich to Barcelona to Sevilla.  Everything to Barcelona was fine, snacks and lovely service on both flights (flying on Swiss airlines, there was plenty of chocolate offered!).  We had a good-sized layover there in any event and it got extended a couple of hours (as we know, the airlines NEVER explain...)  Chuckle of the moment ... I like to "set free" reading material I've finished, especially while travelling. Left a copy of Threads on a table-between-seats in Zurich and was amused to see it picked up by a "my age" gentleman ... wondered if perhaps it was for his wife!  Then in Barcelona on the big layover/delay, we left two sets of a New Yorker and a Science News on tables adjoining ours. We saw one claimed right away, then after an un-fruitful check on our flight status, saw another weary traveller enjoying the other one.   VICTORY!!

We arrived a bit after 11P, and an appalled cab driver dredged us out on a 50 Euro tour to reach this place, which is SERIOUSLY out in the country, by 11:59. It is, however, grand and posh and probably you're not supposed to want to leave. Twice the room size of the mousehole we inhabited in London. So I guess it all balances out. It appears that the hotel is maybe 10% occupied, apparently they have some marketing to do to overcome the image of whatever it was they used to be. The accommodations are regal, so no doubt the word will filter out apace. Even though it's a TITCH cooler out here in the countryside, it's still plenty hot for a Wisconsin kid.

Our room included breakfast in a lovely outdoor setting beside a manicured courtyard garden.  The steam table offerings were so-so (watery scrambled eggs, limp bacon, small sausages, stewed beans) but the fruit bar, ham & cheese selection, and pastry table more than made up for that.  Happily, Judy had schooled me in the ways of her pod-fuelled coffeemaker, so I was able to brew my own without further instruction.  Juices, water & teas rounded out the beverage selection; a wide variety of flavored olive oils (vanilla??) added interest to the breads and cheeses.

We took the hotel shuttle van downtown mid-morning, where it was hotter than the hinges, breeze or no. But we strolled pleasantly around these couple of days, following the routes Gabe had developed to amble from his host family’s apartment to the university. The Official Bus Tour of Sevilla ("hop on, hop off") has a total of ... four stops!  We've seen pretty much all 4 stops (though Gabe persists in his allergy to actually ENTERING any of these places). On my own I'd probably take the tours, but I do have some sympathy for the "you've seen one cathedral, you've seen them all" perspective. We are doing very nicely accomplishing the "people" goals, and that's the key thing here.

The first day, 2/3 of his Spanish harem took us to a tiny bar that makes its own wine, for drinks and tapas (they’ve GOT to be authentic when they come out on a stiff sheet of waxed paper...).  While passing some time in a tapas bar later, we chuckled over the mal-translated offer of “Troubled of Cod” … but we opted not to disturb the poor fish any further and had a grand spinach salad with warm goat cheese instead.   The next day we had "lunch" with his host family, a delightful afternoon and great to get to meet them.

Gabe hung with the ladies in the evening & they headed to an amusement park to celebrate Ana’s birthday on Wednesday.  I enjoyed a lazy day therefore; accomplished a bit of work on both reading & needlework, then packing the both of us up and enjoying a light room-service dinner in the evening.  Gabe arrived "home" this morning a 5:30 for a 6:30 taxi so he's wiped. But surely all necessary farewells are now complete!

Sevilla photos

July 6-9 … London, Part 1; Den Haag Part 2

We then hopped over to London for a short visit, landing at Gatwick which has an express train into town.  We were ensconced in the new and edgy Mint Hotel Westminster, from which our cab driver assured us we could stroll to many of the leading attractions. We also wanted to get up to what remains of the airfield where Cliff served at in WWII, maintaining the machine guns the bombers used to defend themselves.  We arrived in good enough spirits & energy to get right to work on that trek; found a train out to Diss and picked up a taxi, figuring the place would be well-known.  NOT!

We did luck into a jolly, if quite bewildered, cabbie who played along much better than necessary and got a little misty looking out over the field, realizing that Gabe's grandpa would have had the very same view. Finding it was a real adventure, careening along 1-lane roads with endless hedgerows and a lot of prayer. Surely we spied Peter Rabbit in the distance, and Mr. Toad was riding with us, I'm certain!  We benefitted from some education on legal issues concerning public taxis (if you don’t pay your fare, you can be charged with highway robbery; taxis actually are still required – though this is enforced only in the breach – to carry a bale of hay (for the horses); and it's OK to take a leak -- but ONLY on the left-rear tyre!)  Best of all, the gentleman driver charged us only one-way fare, between his own confusion and his collegial sentiment about the family-history nature of the jaunt.

Back at the hotel, it was getting late so we went upstairs to the bar for a light meal.  Gabe achieved his goal of experiencing fish'n'chips (completed with mashed, minty peas) I think his essential response was ...  SERIOUSLY?? All that fuss about THIS?? (Not that it was bad, just  ... well ... not compelling).

Breakfast buffet was cold but generous – heaping fruit platters, ham’n’cheese stuffed croissants, cereals & yogurts, cheeses.  Hot toast came on request, along with a carafe of coffee.

We had considered the “hop on/hop off” bus tour with a couple dozen stops to experience, but decided to hibernate the next morning until the weather kind of broke.  Meanwhile we explored entertainment options for our return evening in London, and found the last two tickets to Wicked that night.  I’ve seen the show and Gabe hasn’t, it will be a treat to introduce him.  Then we trekked up to Sir John Soane’s museum, which was indeed a worthwhile experience. He was a “central casting” traveller and gentleman collector in the 1800’s, and left his double-wide townhouse and all its contents to the City on the terms that it never be altered or disturbed.  It would have been quite an amazing place in which to dwell … and I thought that I had extensive collections!!  After a healthy trot back to the hotel from the nearest (not-so-very near, though) tube station, we decided to eat at a pub nearby, where we enjoyed a loud, friendly atmosphere and ample portions of curry & a sandwich’n’crisps.  An authentic experience!  And then fairly early to bed.

True to forecast, the new day came in pouring down rain again; the umbrellas Judy had loaned us got a workout.  We had an afternoon flight back to Amsterdam, so attended the Miro retrospective at the Tate Modern in the morning.  We got going early enough to get a look at both the Tower of London and St. Paul’s, then hydroplaned across the Millennium Bridge over the Thames to reach the museum.  We enjoyed lunch at their top-floor café with a long window wall overlooking the river.  Just lovely!  And meanwhile the sun came out so our train ride out to London City airport was quite pleasant.

At the airport bookstore I suffered separation anxiety as I had (purposely) brought not a single BOOK along, favoring the stash of periodicals which I could leave behind as I completed them.  Discovered I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the English-speaking world without a tome or two; the sale was buy one/get one, so of course I bought four.  Got one mostly read while waiting for the flight.  A quick visual from Schipol … a fellow on what amounted to a stand-up lawnmower, scooting around pushing the biggest dust-mop attachment I’ve ever seen … could easily sweep up a small pet or child, wonder if that’s where the announcements come from?!!

An uneventful return to Judy’s; we knew she had a meeting that evening and had provisioned the ‘frig for our culinary imagination.  We got a big chuckle as everything was neatly labeled for us!  You have to love a hostess who trusts you with the entire kitchen.  A decent night’s sleep, and the next day lots of laundry done, exercise the kitties, finish Book #1, and continue to catch up with Judy.  Repack, and early to bed for an early car to Schiphol.

London photos

July 3-5 … travel to Amsterdam/Den Haag

Linda graciously drives us out to O’Hare.  Cashing in stacks and STACKS of points and miles, we truly did enjoy the flights out in first/business-class luxury.  We took in Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino which is at LEAST as good as all the reviews said.  I got a bit more sleep than Gabe did, but we pulled ourselves together in the morning (European time) and found our driver to get over to Judy’s digs in the Hague.

There we introduced ourselves to her two rambunctious male kittens, and paid our respects to the now-elderly matriarch Tripletje.  Much of our couple days there was spent adjusting to the time change and generally unwinding; we did take the bus downtown and enjoyed an extensive, couple-dozen-dish rijstable -- quite a feast and not too hot for me to handle. Hooray!  It was a very pleasant evening so we ambled down a wide parkway to inspect an installation of contemporary Chinese sculpture, which ranged from an oversized “corrugated cardboard” carton with contents spilling out of a banged-up corner, to giant male figures in sumo-ish poses, to a bright-orange latticed interpretation of T. Rex!

Den Haag photos

June 30-July 2 … preparations

On Independence Day weekend, we took off for our “pinball tour” of Western Europe.  Gabe had arrived home about 9P June 29 with his Evanston possessions in a U-Haul … which, naturally, needed to be UNLOADED right then and there.  He barreled back southward the very next day to supervise the final clean-out of the rental house and recovery of the security deposit.   Oh, and one last PARTY to attend.  Home again to pack, and off we went.

I had gotten pretty much everything done that needed to be iced at work, though I did have to dash off one short draft memo which I’d forgotten about.  The big nut was a detailed draft with visuals of a 3-part training program, and actually recording the first segment so my partner in the Training division could test out various approaches for adding it to the Official Training Repertory.