We Met at Size 8: My Adventures in Europe, Part IX

It's been almost two years since my last installment of "We Met at Size 8..." and over four years since my sister, Becky, and I celebrated my 50th in Europe. It is my hope that I am able to continue since the particulars have all but faded from my memory. What has stayed, however, is the feeling of wonder, excitement, and pure pleasure I was able to share with Becky and my sister-in-law, Erika.

My brother, Chris, was unable to make the trip from London to Spain, but his bride of three months was able to join us. Becky and I got her all to ourselves. Having grown up in Spain, Erika was the perfect companion. But much more than that, Erika was like an old, comfortable friend (whom we had only met a few months before). She felt like our sister.

Our apartment was in the center of Barcelona. It was spaciously quaint which was a comfortable landing pad after a full day of adventure.

Spain was a different world from London. Street vendors lined the squares. Upon approaching the wares, Erika would gently veer me away from them. These vendors were selling without permits/licenses. Every now and then you would see one of them fold the corners of their large blankets covering their merchandise and fling the sack over their shoulder only to set up in another less-watched place away from police. At one point, we saw a policeman talking with a vendor and a patron. Turns out, they may have both been arrested/fined: the vendor for obvious reasons, the patron for purchasing illegal merchandise. That could have been me!

Visual performance artists would also line the square. I was completely taken with them. My sister took pictures, which means that you need to tip. I guess Americans over tip...which is what I did. They sure liked us.

What was really hard for me to get used to was the two-hour lunches and dinner that starts at the earliest around 9:00. Erika had rented a car and took us outside of Barcelona to a small town. We had wanted to do some shopping while there. The courtyard, which was surrounded by stores/restaurants was deserted. We found everyone in one of the restaurants. We were there for two hours...at lunchtime! I asked Erika why we weren't getting our check. She explained that it is highly rude for a waiter to ask you if you need anything else or are ready for your check. Besides, what else could we have done but sit and enjoy ourselves. Everything was closed! Since lunch started around 2:00, we didn't have dinner until later either. One night it was almost 11:00 before we ate! (My oldest son has visited Chile twice in the past year. Just those two visits have all but changed his eating habits. Morning he eats something small, lunch is the biggest meal, and at dinner he just grazes.)

Time works differently in Spain. The relaxing vibe was so very good for my overworked mind. I could use me some Spain right now (see Daily Ramblings Part II). I'm guessing we all could.