A knock on the door. Michael opens it to find a thirty-something woman standing before him. Rapid fire Spanish bursts from her mouth and Michael, having arrived in Spain just six weeks earlier, is mystified. “No entiendo,” he manages to get out, which only means, “I don’t understand,” so the woman starts to explain it…
Category: Travels
Solo Travel 101 (Thank you, Mr. Briggs and Ms. Troccia)
My first trip “across the pond” was led by my 11th grade English and Social Studies teachers Mr. Briggs and Ms. Troccia. We saw all the major sites: the Tower of London, Stonehenge, Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. But the most important thing I was given on that trip? An adult’s belief in my ability to navigate…
“No pasa nada”
3:55 p.m.: I open the door to our terrace trying to figure out if I need a coat at this hour of the day. I love that I live in a place where this is a valid question in February. Deciding it may get chilly as the sun is on it’s way down, I put…
Not All Is As It Seems (or A Morning Walk—València style)
“Want to go for a walk?” I asked Michael. After a four-day vacation in northern Spain it was time to reacquaint ourselves with our neighborhood and our routines. We showered, dressed and were out the door at 11am. This might seem like a late start to most Americans–myself included. But things are different here. We…
There’s a First Time For Everything. . .
“I brought a bunch of them back from the UK,” a woman at the July Expat picnic told me. This was the first I’d heard of DIY Covid tests. The concept was–literally–foreign to me. The woman went on to explain that, in order to visit family in the UK, she had to test herself multiple…
Traveling in the Time of Covid (France, Chocolate Mousse, and Jazz–oh my!)
Despite Covid variants, Michael and I are traveling. (I’m not looking for judgement on this. I’m merely writing to share my experiences.) I haven’t studied all of the travel regulations for the countries we have visited–I only look at the ones that pertain to us. If we want to leave Spain, we have a few…
The Intersection of Dairy Queen and The Camino de Santiago
Steam rose from the water in the plastic measuring cup. I slipped the knife in, paused, pulled it out, then hovered a second to let the excess water drip off. Touching the tip to the center of the ice cream cake, I used all my strength to break through the hard chocolate shell. With great…
Hospitality
Our little albergue (hostel) at the top of the hill in Grado, Spain had it’s windows flung open and a welcoming geranium on the sill. Those that made the short climb would find our open door, our smiling faces and, sadly, The Sign–the one that every pilgrim along the Camino de Santiago dreads seeing on…
A Day In The Life. . . of a Bar
It’s 9:30 a.m. Michael and I walk down a pedestrianized road lined with shops and bars. The street has been divided into a walking area and a dining area. Each bar distinguishes itself with different tables and chairs. Silver metal tables and black wicker chairs at one. White plastic tables and white plastic chairs at…
On Being in Love. Or in Like.
Every expat we meet here in Valencia, Spain, tells us the same thing: You made the right choice. “We love it here,” they say. The weather, the people, the plethora of things to do, the slower pace of life. Some loved it from the moment they got here. Others said they didn’t think they’d stay…
RenaissanceRebecca 