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.

We Met at Size 8: My adventures in Europe, Part II

As we flew into Heathrow Airport, London, I saw a most magnificent city! The London Eye was unmistakably awesome! Taking all this in on the airplane was much easier for me than I knew it would be on the ground. Here it was safe and not so terribly overwhelming. I'm not sure how many times I grabbed my sister's hand and said, "I can't believe we're here!" My sister is one of a kind. She takes it all in, and adds a snarky comment occasionally to keep me guessing. She is not one to pour her feelings out...it takes quite a bit for her to choose to do that...she's told me it doesn't come naturally to her. I, on the other hand, will gush...sometimes ad nauseum. My sister is much more reserved on that front. But I digress...

I cannot remember the next couple of hours after landing. When I get overwhelmed, I shut down. The first overwhelming aspect of our trip was DRIVING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD! OK, I know that in England this is the way they do things, but actually doing it...well, it's quite an experience. OK, public service announcement here: I cannot for the life of me remember hotel names, restaurants, minor excursions, etc...my brain doesn't work that way. I know that taking the time to write things down or save memorabilia would be helpful, but that's not my way either. I'm an in-the-moment kind of gal when it comes to vacations or day excursions. I may take lots of pictures, but then may have no idea what they are of; thank God for the location device on my iPhone. It takes care of that for me. So basically, if you are looking for a "tour" of my trip, you won't get one. This is a journey into my mind, heart, soul, and all the other parts of me that make up who I am. So if this is not for you, you may stop reading. I won't mind. Hell, I won't even know who reads my stuff other than the comments I receive on Facebook.

So all that said, I hope you are enjoying your neck of the woods this weekend--cold and wet where I'm at--but I hope no matter the weather, you are all shining inside or appreciating your moment. More to come. Namaste.

We Met at Size 8: My adventures in Europe, Part I

The planning began two years ago. My sister and I were sitting in her small den off her bedroom. After a glass of wine, she told me that to celebrate my 50th birthday, she was going to take me on an all-expense paid trip to anywhere I wanted to go in the world. She knew she needed to give me two years to digest this. For those of you who read my blog, you know that I am not a willing traveler. Being away from home for extended periods of time (especially out of state) is way out of my comfort zone.  Honestly, I would have been happy going to a contiguous US state. She insisted it needed to be out of the country. How could I be away from my family for that long? What if they found out that they didn't need me anymore? Writing this, I can see how crazy this sounds, but in my heart, those fears are real.

Originally, we had decided that the Caribbean would be a nice place to relax for a week and a half. I wasn't married to this place, hell, I wasn't married to even going! But this place was the closest to my home. I wanted to be able to leave at a moment's notice should there be a problem. Basically, I was picking a destination for its proximity, not as a perfect destination.

Our minds were made up when my brother married a beautiful Spanish woman who lives in Cambridge, England. They came to the US to marry, so I was able to meet her (on the day of the wedding) and I immediately knew my brother was one lucky dude. We had to visit them in England! This was the first time in the past two years that I had started to feel excitement rather than dread. My sister planned the trip leaving no arrangement (car service, train ride...) left to chance. Our itinerary? Cambridge, London, Barcelona! We had invited our brother and his wife to join us in Barcelona. Unfortunately, my brother's visa hadn't been updated to allow him to travel outside of England--a topic my brother has little good to say about. But that didn't stop his wife from joining us.

The weeks approaching this once-in-a-lifetime trip seemed to drag by. Each day was long, and the weeks even longer. And surprising to say, my attitude was improving and my fear abating. I would be spending my 50th birthday celebration in Europe!