I spotted them ahead of me–easily identifiable by their hiking shoes, walking sticks, and the telltale scallop shell hanging from their backpacks. Pilgrims! I thought excitedly. They paused, the man checking something on his phone, the two of them conferring over whatever was on the screen. This is my chance! I thought, picking up my…
The Rain in Spain
Dear Asturias, Michael and I know your secret. We’ve seen your glossy ads in travel magazines: lush, green hills under blue skies; a tagline encouraging visitors to “Return to Paradise.” And like so many others, we’ve heard–and believed–the rumors about what it takes to create these verdant landscapes: rain. Lots of rain. In the winter….
Cesari Street (A Grandma Gallo Memory)
Grandma explained to us that it was a tradition to give a gift to the priest who says your spouse’s funeral mass. So just before she left for a trip to Italy with four of her grandchildren, Grandma asked Father Peter, who said Grandpa’s funeral mass just eight months earlier, what she could get him…
The European Union Vs. Valencia
“The EU tried to put an end to the Fallas festival,” my friend Christopher told us. “They thought it was too dangerous.” We all laughed. “Dangerous” is not a strong enough word. I can just imagine a Spaniard in front of the EU trying to explain this festival. The Spaniard would start innocently enough by…
No Deaths In The Afternoon. Or In The Morning. Or . . .
When his time comes, I prefer my father die in his sleep, at home, surrounded by his family. What I don’t want? For his death to come while walking the Camino de Santiago. I can’t recall when this possibility first crossed my mind. Probably back in the planning stages when a sibling wondered if our…
A Cold Awakening
I pushed the button, stuck my hands under the water, and immediately yanked them back. I don’t like cold. Cold temperatures. Cold showers. And certainly not cold water to wash my hands in a restaurant bathroom. But there was no temperature control on the faucet. Push down on the top and ice cold water pours…
A-Camino-A-Day. . .
I snapped a picture of the Camino trail marker and laughed to myself, recalling a conversation I’d had back in 2020 with my youngest sister Meg. “Would you ever do a winter Camino?” she asked me. She had just seen the video I’d made of my first Camino with my father and I knew where…
Learning Spanish: The Lost Luggage
June, 2012: After 37 days walking Spain’s Camino de Santiago, every pilgrim knows what a mochila is. But maletas? I’d heard the word, and knew it had something to do with luggage, but I wasn’t clear on the exact definition. Until . . September, 2021: Dad and I were on our second Camino. Our bags…
Learning Spanish: The Masked Man
My youngest sister Meg had come to visit me in Valencia, Spain. I had not yet climbed the Micalet–a tower near the cathedral–so we decided to do it. We went into the church and a sign told us to wait until we were called forth. Nearby, in a small alcove, we could see a masked…
Can You Say “Villaviciosa”?
“If we’re going to move to this town, I’ll need to learn how to say it!” I said to Michael. Somehow, he already had it down. But after three days, “Villaviciosa” didn’t exactly roll off my tongue. I was, however, optimistic. After all, I could now easily talk about getting our empadronamientos at the Ayuntamiento….
RenaissanceRebecca 