The mechanic, the hotel, a shower and bowl of Goulash

We had to take the van to the mechanic a little while ago to fix that polluting leak of oil. But because it was a several hour job, in mechanic time that means they need to keep her at the shop for 3 days, naturally. Nothing more of a hassle usually, but since we are currently living in the van it´s not so simple. We pitched a few ideas to the mechanic in hopes of saving ourselves the cost of a hotel or the drama of a youth hostel. He replied "no" to us sleeping in the van while it was inside the shop. And while a little chuckle escaped his mouth, he also denied our idea of him leaving the van outside the shop on the street each night so we could have access to it. I guess to him rolling a van in neutral and trying to parallel park it while half the engine parts were in scattered heaps about the shop floor didn´t exactly seem like a brilliant idea to him. Point taken.

Ok, so staying in a hotel it is then. Well, I guess on the bright side, hotels do have hot showers.

So we packed up, vacated the van and turned her over to the mechanic. Before giving the keys I had a little chat with the guy. We´ve got quite the finicky van, instructions are necessary. I let the mechanic in on the details of opening the doors; this one you push here and pull there, that one you just can´t open, this one doesn´t lock unless you do this... etc. All intsructions came with a visual demonstration. And he was under strict instructions to lock all doors if she´s parked outside. It is our home, after all. He finally pried the keys from my hands, reassured me he would take good care, and we set off to find that hotel. I made sure to splash a little extra water on our dashboard plants before setting off too, almost forgot.

We walked to the metro. Took it two stops, exited the metro to walk across the block to take the train. Mind you, Spain does not have the handicap accessibility that we take for granted in the States. It´s up and down and up and down with every kilo we packed. I, in an attempt to save my forever deteriorating back from further pain, packed in a duffel with rollers. Yes, we were only going for a few days, but I planned for three days of avoiding boredom in a hotel room with as many craft supplies and books as I could fit. That and as much food and spices as I could jam in the nooks and crannies. So here I am with a rolling duffel that is awkward as heck to carry, but very comfortable to roll. I had forgotten about the metro and the trains and the fact that less than half of them seem to not have elevators nor escalators. So anyway, finally on the train. Take that a ways and then exit the station and walk up the hill to the street level. Ok. The hotel is only 1.5km. That´ll be easy peasy. So we walk. I sing a little bit. And for kicks I stick out a thumb. Spain is tough for hitching, but sometimes there are the occasional spirited folk or Dutch tourists who seem to love to stop. We continue. No one stops. The sun is shining. At first so nice and slowly it gets a bit too hot. Wow, this is a long 1.5km. Really? I can´t believe how out of shape we´ve gotten! Time to start travelling by bike again, I thought.

Hmm. This can´t be. This is too far.  Wait a minute, we just passed into the next town. No way! Finally I stop and ask. Yeah, we passed it by 2km. Ok, so we turn around and go back the way we came.

Oh that´s funny, look. A massive billboard advertising our hotel as just a minute over there. I can´t believe we actually passed this gigantic sign and didn´t even notice. Must have been while we were discussing if we were lost or not.

Finally we get there. Stumbling in the door, my arm half dead, sweaty brow, stinky as ever and cranky to boot. We check in and the guy gives us room keys. We set out for the elevator. The button doesn´t work. We ask th guy. He replies with a,"Oh, yeah, it´s out of service right now." Oh. Ok. Four flights of stairs up with this way too heavy duffel then.

Door swings open, throw down the bags and immediately  I start playing with the light switches and novel at having electricity for a while. Now on to the next most luxurious thing - a shower. I grab my soap, shampoo, conditioner, and a loofah (bought especially for this occasion) and go to town. Maybe it was an hour shower, and I know it´s super wasteful, but I figure no hot shower in 3 weeks entitles me to a splurge, that and it took me about that long to scrub off the dirft and extract the unwanted dreadlocks that had taken hostage of my hair.

Meanwhile, Jota is unpacking our campstove, food and spices. Before lighting up the stove we had a lengthy discussion about hotel fire detectors, the difference between smoke and steam and fire codes in Spain. So with the window wide open, all our bags packed and ready to run, bellies growling, and hearts full of love for home-cooked food, we gave it a go. And I can now say that the myth of lighting a birthday candle in your classroom will set off all the smoke alarms is soo not true. Burning a propane gas stove did not in the least bit set off, nor even muster a flicker of suspicion from the mega detector a few feet away.

About two hours later we sat down, in actual chairs, with electric lights and enjoyed a most delicious dish of Goulash - Jota style. I´d love to share a recipe, but Jota cooks as he goes. A dish is never replicated and he doesn´t work with instructions. I guess I could meticulously watch everything and take notes, but I somehow figure it will have a quantum physics effect of ruining the dish. (In quantum physics they say when a spectator is present it completely effects the outcome of the experiment) I learned that from watching the movie: Dentro de la Madriguera (What the Bleep Do We Know?)

Checked it out from the public library and I give it two huge thumbs up!

Well, that´s all for now. Off to visit the organic farmers market in town! I already can wait for dinner.

P.S. Almost forgot - we collected the van. The mechanic did a fantastic job, surprisingly enough. When he gave back the keys he mentioned he loved the dash plants and he went to give them water but noticed we´d already done it. That´s a cool mechanic!

There's still time! Especially if you love walnuts!

I guess I've already said it, but I LOVE holidays. And a good one is coming up! The first day of Advent is this Sunday, December 2nd.

What is Advent really? I had no clue it was anything more than counting the days til Christmas until just a few years ago. And even now my understanding is quite the mix of religious celebrations and traditions combined with quite the crunchy-granola-natural twinge. I'm not going to even attempt at giving the history nor a correct description of the holiday. I can only attempt to describe what it is for me.

To me it symbolizes the falling into the darkest weeks of the year. The solstice on the 21st is thee shortest day of the year. Naturally in the winter we bundle up in clothes and snuggle down in layers of blankets, shielding the cold and preserving our inner warmth. It's a time of anticipation for what is to come. Some people say it's a natural time for reflection, inner awareness and a perfect time for kindling our inner spirit and fire. Everyone has their own way of doing this; there are many cups of tea. For me it just seems reasonable that when you're in the dark you look for the light. If the sun isn't bringing it, from where does it come?For Christians I guess it would be the birth of baby Jesus, a bringer of light and love. For a naturalist it might be knowing that after the 21st the days begin to get longer, literally there is more light. And for those of us that believe in the power of meditation or intention, maybe it is using these tools at a dark time to help us find our way...

Regardless there are a bunch of ways of celebrating Advent if you so wish. Basically it is a way of preparing and celebrating for what is to come - whatever you believe will be coming. I thought I would share my favorites. And I'll say too that yes, having kids around adds a great incentive to celebrate, but last year during Advent I wasn't involved in a school community nor did I have any children around to celebrate with and I found it just as much fun to sing and celebrate - but maybe that's just the preschool teacher in me.

Last year I made a centerpiece out of evergreen branches and red berries. In it I placed a spiral path of stones I had collected and placed four white candles scattered through the path. At the center a candle to light on Christmas. The first Sunday of Advent at dinner we lit a candle and sang a song. Every night for that week we lit one candle and sang before dinner. The second Sunday of Advent we lit two candles, and the third three, etc. The song a mix of what we used to sing at Little Friends Farm and another song I found on a Waldorf-inspired blog. It goes:
      Advent, advent, your candles burn
      I light the night, my candles burn.
      First one, then two, then three, then four
      My heart is shining like a star.

And then there is the walnut chain.  Two lovely teachers at the Mariposa School taught me this tradition. It involves either a big love of walnuts or lots of friends that love walnuts. So anyway, you split open 24 walnuts and eat (or save, or give, or bake) the nut inside. The trick is that you need to crack it open so it splits perfectly. Jagged shards of walnut shells can't be used - believe me, I've tried to even super glue the pieces back together, it doesn't work. Here's a trick though, the bottom of every walnut right in the middle where the two halves meet there is a part that if you use a fork or a butter knife or camping can opener, you can wedge it in there and with a little bit of finesse there is a pop and the two halves split. Hurray. Make sure you keep the halves with their pair, or otherwise you'll have an interesting matching game to play later. Using an egg carton is helpful in keeping the shells well behaved.

 So then comes the part where you fill each walnut with a little something. Yes, you can put little presents inside, but I rather prefer to find little nature treasures or fold in a piece of paper with a special activity on it. It works way better because 1) nature is just really good as making small things, 2) it's really hard to find little trinkets to buy in almost any store 3) it would be really expensive to purchase 24 little things and really, that's not the point anyway. Sneak peak at what my nieces will be finding...

 So once they are all filled order than how you like in one long procession. (note - the ones at the top will be the last to open). Using a long piece of ribbon (long enough to fit all the walnuts and extra to make a bow or loop at the top for hanging), glue the walnuts halves back together with the ribbon in between. The end product will be a garland of walnuts. Each day the ribbon is cut so that one walnut falls off the chain. Crack it back open and voila! Less walnuts on the chain = less time til________!

I also like the idea of putting activities in each walnut. For example: pick out Christmas books at the library, go hike someplace new, make hot cocoa/tea, draw a picture for someone, write someone a letter, etc. Although maybe it's easier to make a different kind of advent calendar with activities so that you have the ability to switch around what your little one will be finding (aka it's a hot day and drinking hot chocolate wouldn't be so magical)

So the last weeks I have been combing the beaches for shells and things. Jota telling me in all sincerity that maybe I have "a problem with shells." He didn't know I was envisioning a walnut chain. After I told him he seemed to look at me more like a normal person again. I like shells, and I do my fair share of collecting, but I don't usually fill every tupperware that we have with sea treasures- that or shards of walnut shells, or more nuts than we can actually eat.

In other news, Jota has rigged up a kitchen sink in the van. The other day I started washing my hands and all of a sudden I realized that sound. "Oh my goodness, do you HEAR that?" I say. "What??" Jota responds in that frantic way that I know he is intently listening for any creak, snap, pop or groan of the van. "No, it's nothing bad. It's RUNNING WATER!!!!!" Oh the happiness. Four months in Galicia and then this last month here in Barcelona without running water and I can't tell you how grateful I am to not have to try and pour a five gallon bucket with my knees while I try and wash my hands, not drop the soap on the ground and not loose my balance, stumble over and land in the puddle. And I won't even go into the details of washing dishes. There is a reason I guess we don't have too many of those. The beauty of the experience though has been that we know exactly how much water we use. When you have to go find it, carry it in and carry it out (and feel in your cranky back and knees every spill because you have to go back to the fountain and get more), you can't not acknowledge every single drop and that's pretty cool. Now if only we could figure out a bicycle-powered hot water heater and I would really be in heaven.

There is a art fair coming up and I've turned the van into a craft workshop. I'm thinking of giving a workshop for the fair. Origami being the art form of choice this time - mostly because it's easy to fit, light and free (if you use scrap paper, old maps, newspapers, wrapping paper, etc.). 

Well that's all for now.

Thanksgiving Afterthoughts

Yesterday I was sitting in the metro on my way to go meet the mechanic. The train stopped to let in more passengers. One of which being a teenage boy with that brooding/I hate life/I'm cool because I'm miserable - look. Dressed all in black, greasy hair covering his view of the world and a cell phone blasting music that is made for teenage boys like him to annoy the world with. Oh boy, here we go, I thought. And my mind continued on a metro ride of it's own about how annoyed I was, why does he think everyone wants to listen to his crappy music??, la, la,la,la,la. I guess there's a reason why I'm better at teaching Kindergarten than High School.

So I start a little rant to Jota and he calmly, observantly and quite compassionately says while gazing over at our abnoxious neighbor, "he's just angry Sam. He's angry at everything."

Hmm, I thought.

I then eased off my tirade enough to make a joke, "I'm going to give him a pair of headphones then." I'll admit that at first I sort of meant it as a sarcastic comment and little expression of my bad attitude.

And then I remembered it's Thanksgiving. My next thought was, I wonder if I give him my headphones really just as a genuine gift. I did have two pairs after all, and I only have one set of ears.

So just as we were about to get off, I went over and offered the good pair to him. He looked up in surprise, his look so expressive it almost said, "wait, I'm not invisible? She can see me?" He looked confused. "You're giving these to me?" He wanted to know if it was a joke, or a trick or if I wanted something in return. I told him it was only a gift. Then he told me he did have his own pair, and felt almost guilty about accepting them. As I got off the train and the doors started to close I told him he could always offer them to someone else. He said a genuinely heartfelt thank you and I'll admit I was surprised. The rest of the metro car was too.

I have no idea if he actually used them . I like to think he did to save the rest of the annoyed passengers from revolting against him, but who knows.

Later on after picking up the van we went to a Chinese restaurant (the one place that was open with wifi that wasn't a McDonalds and actually served more food than just Tapas) and tried to pretend it was just as cool as a full course Thanksgiving feast.The owners were so happy that we came to their restaurant to celebrate Thanksgiving that they gave us a gift. A Chinese wall calendar and two shots of Chinese liqueur. All that combined with skype with my family and the sudden chilly weather that came blowing in and I actually felt like we accomplished pulling off Thanksgiving in Spain.

With that said, next year I'll (and Jota too!) be looking forward to turkey and all the fixin's in New England where it will actually be fall and cranberries to be found!

 

From Thanksgiving in Spain

I'm grateful for holidays. Those special days strewn about the year that give us permission to pause and gather together to appreciate, reflect and enjoy. They are special because of the creative and meaningful celebrations, songs, decorations and food that we associate only with this one day. They are steeped in tradition which inherently brings along with it all the love, memories and specialness from years and generations that have come before. And they set a rhythm to the year like a steady heartbeat with all the assuredness that it will come and go and then come again. Like the waves on the shore, the changing of the leaves, the daffodils popping out of the ground, the first ripe apples. We wait in eager anticipation, we enjoy when it's here, and we let it go willingly when the time is right; all because we trust it will come again in due time.  

And I like that it gives us an easy opportunity to practice those moral qualities that may or may not have been swept by the wayside. Being inspired to show more gratitude, share more love, forgive more mistakes, have more trust, believe more goodness and be more connected to all those living beings that surround our lives every day can only do good things for our crazy lives we live in a often times crazy world.

Walking on the beach a little ways from where we park the van we found a Buddhist monk. Turns out there is a monastery just around the corner. Love that. 

This is the first Thanksgiving I have not celebrated with my family in New England. It feels so odd to wake up to another normal day, people going to work (or striking...because, well, I'm in Spain), going to school , grocery shopping, etc. etc. Spain has many holidays and festivals and so it's very clear to tell when it is or when it isn't a holiday and by all signs today one would think it most certainly isn't a holiday. But yet deep in my bones I have that rhythm that tells me this is Thanksgiving. It's not cold, a cranberry not anywhere to be found and there are palm trees. But it's Thanksgiving. Jota and I will be celebrating in the "Christmas Story" fashion; aka, we're going to a Chinese restaurant that will be open and has wifi. Not exactly the usual menu, but certainly has that quality of out-of-the-ordinary specialness that makes it sort of feel like a holiday. And we will be skyping (BIG gratitude in this moment to modern technology!) and watching our New England relatives chow down on all my favorites - squash soup with a dollop of yogurt, stuffing with gravy, apple pie..... 

Cheers to my fam that pulled together a pretty amazing Thanksgiving-in-September so we could all celebrate my favorite holiday before going back to Spain. And that cranberry sauce is homemade - right from the family cranberry gathering to the eating and everything in between....the butternut squash too!

On another note, here's to hoping that our van is all fixed up. She's been visiting with the mechanic the last two days. I thought maybe, just maybe, its extra good luck we're picking her up on Thanksgiving.

Happy happy day to everyone. Wishing you hearts full of love and bellies full of goodness.

xo

Garden Community

We were lost. A usual occurence. And somewhere between wondering were we went wrong and wondering if it really even mattered, we spotted a little plot of land off to the side of the road. There were a ton of people there. All working. One with a shovel, another with a plow, a few more weeding. One pulling out some now-unnecessary tomato stakes, a woman and her toddler giving a tour and then a whole little market stand at the entrance with both farmers and shoppers chatting away. Oooo, what's this??! That looks interesting!

So we drove around the block a few times, trying to find a parking spot. Eventually made it in the garden gate and were introduced to our first community garden in Spain! I have had only one prior experience with a community garden, in Providence RI. A lovely organization and an amazing idea. I had yet to find a similar project on my travels. But here, just outside Barcelona, a quick bike ride from the beach and nestled in a flat plain with mountains in the backdrop was this Catalonia- rendition of a community garden.

 

 

It's a holding of land about a half hectare in size which is home to a small garden shed and small market stand to one side and the rest are plots of either 50 square meters or 25 square meters. Neighbors pay a monthly rent for their garden space and have access to water, tools and advice from the garden guru. It's only 25 euros. Which when you think of it - a place where you can grow something quite easily all year round is an awesome price to feed a family on organic veggies and fruits. It would be super cool if there was a sliding scale! It's also a wonderful way to grow community. When everyone has their space to grow a really beautiful garden follows (I mean that figuratively and literally).

I think we're all fairly used to eating which ever fruits and vegetables we like, at whatever time of year we like them. They are always available. And apart from our own local crops you don't really get a sense of seasons for non-local crops. I know everyone knows that. Eating local, thankfully has become a well-known concept. However there are always those fruits and veggies that you can't grow local, and I atleast always wonder about them. Sometimes I don't even know what kind of plant they come from! While traveling it's always exciting to be in a new place and realize when something is really in season. You know when it's the season because biting into the fruit or vegetable is like an explosion in the mouth - a real feast for the taste buds especially when you've been accustomed to eating the available-all-the-time-variety. In Thailand and Burma and India it was the mangoes that taught me this - April might be super hot and the start of the rains, but I would travel to Thailand in a heartbeat just to have another bowl of sweet sticky rice with fresh mangoes.

 

In Greece the fresh honey the bees make from the Thyme flowers in June. In Spain last winter I had my first actually ripe pomegranate. The only way I can think of describing it is by saying, I had NO idea before that's what it tasted like! Or in the North of Spain last July with the plum crop. Plums naturally grow in thickets. I hadn't known that before. Actually these small trees that were growing so close together with such a mysterious fruit that made the whole forest smell of a sweet, heavenly, almost intoxicating aroma had me pondering for weeks about what it was. I never realized that those small perfectly round, plump and deep purple PLUMS that I had bought in the supermarket, actually naturally grew in thickets, didn't always come in a deep purple color and I certainly had no inkling that their scent as I walked by was so profound that it felt as is if my nose was actually eating a plum. Wow.

 

So now I'm in another new place. In the NorthEast corner of Spain, just South of Barcelona between the coast and the first ripple of mountains. It's a bit chilly at night and sometimes during the day with the wind. But nowhere near the coldness of our Novembers in Rhode Island. In the gardens here I see wilted and just passed tomato crops. The remainder of tomatoes shriveled, tinged brown and just barely hanging on with the last threads of their stems. I see peppers also seeking the last rays of sunlight before they too become compost for next year. I see vast patches of brown earth, one might think that it is the end of the year for this spot of Earth - just until you see the specks of young carrot seedlings just poking their heads out from below. The lettuce is full and bright, the leaves coloring the garden shades of spring green, deep hunter and even tarnished reds. The rainbow chard is a bit older than the carrot seedlings but not quite yet in its glory like the lettuces. There are peas and beans climbing the heights of their trellises made of river reeds. And of course the cabbages are in their element too like the lettuce. There are still potatoes in the ground, the plants just now going by and the little treasures below waiting for some eager hands to come and find them.  And the neighboring farms have rows and rows of shimmering deep purple eggplants perfect for harvest. The real showstopper though is the artichoke. In every place there is always at least one plant (but often quite a few) that just look like they are at home and in their element. Right now, in mid-November, here in Catalonia it seems like artichokes are where its at. Rows upon rows in big farms or only a few nestled into the corner of a little community garden plot. They look good here.

So we still don't have any good leads about available land here, but our detour with the community garden added a little spark of light to the search.

 

Oh and does anyone know what kind of insect this is?? Found it back-swimming in the sand at the beach. I flipped him right side up and was quite surprised!

 

 

Van living

We bought a van. We need somewhere to be and something to do while we're waiting for papers for the USA. So why not a van? We can live in it, travel with it, carry our stuff in it( which is way easier than by bicycle!) and I'm already envisioning a makeshift basket weaving and toy workshop inside too. We call her Jada because that was the company name that used to be plastered to all sides with sticky letters.

She's got a few issues - some scrapes and bruises here and there and well there are a few tricks one needs to know to be able to open or close all of her 4 doors. I like to think of it as an extra anti-theft device; a sort of complicated combination lock with many steps.

One might ask why it is we purchased a vehicle with such particularities. Well, the task of looking for a used van in Spain is not exactly an easy feat. We weren't interested in paying extra to purchase from a dealership, so we were thrown into the realm of private sellers, which I can assure you mostly consists of what is perfectly said in Spanish as "pirates". We looked at a ton of vans. Mostly when we lived in a tent in the North of Spain last August. We called around, asked lots of questions, made lists, with stars and cross-outs and question marks. We took a train South to Madrid to look at what we thought was going to be "our van." When we showed up the guy hadn't even brought the same van that was in the add and in the pictures. He tried to convince us otherwise, but when it's a whole size bigger, miraculously has two more windows it didn't have before and is a different make and model - it's sort of hard to defend such a lie. We looked at it anyway. "Motor is perfect" he said more times than I can remember. When we started it, it made some interesting rattling noises. We took it for a spin and I thought the tire was litterally going to spin off. I know very little about automobiles, but the sounds this motor was making was very far from "perfect." He complained when we wanted to talk with a mechanic first....his reasoning being that we couldn't take it to our mechanic because they might "claim there are more problems with it". Then he got upset, saying we wasted an hour of his time. We let him know his lies wasted 10 hours of travel time and the cost of two train tickets.

After that experience we got smarter. We learned to ask not only how many windows the van has, but also if they all open. And then we also learned to also ask if they all close too. We learned to ask not if it had an AC, but if it actually worked. We learned to ask who fixed the motor. If they responded with "my brother" - we could be sure we weren't interested. We learned to ask the same question at least 3 times.... because sometimes the answer changes, or the story grows.

When we travel and are looking for a place to eat we always end up picking the place based on the people; usually pleasant workers are paid and supported well by their employers and somehow it always works out that the food is great too. For us our experience has been grumpy people make grumpy food. So we learned to look at the owners just as much as the van. If it looks, sounds, feels and tastes like a duck, it probably is one.

Here were the highlights of our search:
1.) the van that wasn't really the van we asked for with the rattling, squeaky, yet "perfect"motor
2.) a van that dropped oil like the gusher-disaster of the BP Gulf accident (yes, the owner also said the engine was in perfect condition....his brother also replaced the engine too) He also started every sentence with "the truth is...." Jota made the point that "the truth doesn't need an introduction."
3.) a Galego trying to sell his van for double the real price
4.) A Renault in Valencia that had all flat tires, all broken seatbelts, doors that can't close and a funny sounding engine...yes that too was a "perfect motor"
5.) The monster van that was huge and had windows, but also leaked oil, couldn't drive in a straight line, was being sold by a guy that wasn't the owner and wore so much gold jewelry that the sparkles could light up the town and supposedly trades horses for vans. It was also soooo suspiciously clean that I had to ask "why is it so clean". He responded that he cleaned it. Even the motor which didn't have a speck of dust on it - although supposedly was a ten year old van. Then we realized the water-pressure cleaner. I think he just blasted the heck out of it - which probably broke a bunch of tubes and is why it's leaking all over the place.
6.) Maybe my favorite - The right sized van, with windows, that yes, also leaked oil. The owner greeted us with about 7 of his buddies. And then took us for a spin. I realized my seatbelt was broken at about the same time he was going mock-80 on a country road to show how "powerful the motor is". All his seatbelts were broken too, but supposedly it had just passed inspection a few weeks earlier. What else did the technician "friendly ignore" so his buddy could pass the inspection, I thought.
7.) Almost forgot - the ambulance guy. He was selling an old ambulance, but didn't tell us till we got there, he also lied about the mileage. Ambulances are insulated, this one had half the insulation taken out, which looked sort of like someone had taken an ax to the inside and just started whacking around. Not sure how I felt about sleeping in a vehicle that may or may not at one time have held a dead body and also not sure how my lungs felt about breathing in the toxic fibers of half-destroyed chemical insulation, we decided to pass on this one.

So after all of that we didn't mind a few bumps and bruises and tricky doors when we found a van that our mechanic said has a good motor, and all the seatbelts and parts worked - well enough.

So then we started designing.

A new base floor. Cutting out space for the wheel wells and holes to access the grommets in the floor.
Then comes the nice flooring.....We did most of this parked on the side of the street, tools spilling a bit into the sidewalk and an electric cable thrown through the fence and hedges and dangling from parent's apartment upstairs. And while the amount of staring we received was not more than usual, surprisingly (people like to stare here, a lot. and it doesn't help that Jota and I don't at all look like respectable Spaniards.) Many neighbors were quite curious and stopped to give suggestions. A few hanging out for hours and sometimes rather aggressively giving their opinions. Very interesting.

With the floor in and the walls done (which I don't have a picture of yet!) We boogied out of Madrid and headed for Barcelona, or really - for the sea. Living by the ocean my whole life has made it impossible to be parted from it. People say, you adjust, and there are lakes, and many other reassuring things. But a year in Madrid, smack-dab in the middle of the Iberian peninsula and hours from the ocean or sea and I can tell you  for me, it's impossible.



So now we're living in our makeshift house, parking the van right next to the sea. Eating breakfast on the beach and falling asleep to that comforting sound of waves lapping the shore. The day is filled with renovating, visiting farms, getting to know the neighbors, and enjoying the local library which has the coolest librarians who are determined to help us find a little corner of the Earth somewhere around here to start some sort of farming adventure. Today's task is to find a place to take a shower, and to deal with some of our van's "perfectness" aka, she has an appointment with the mechanic at 3:30.