After my shoestring budget travel with my friends, I had the distinct pleasure and, to be frank, luxury of traveling through Spain with my family afterward. Although I will be visiting many of the same sites later on in the year, I did not care because of the sheer joy it was to be seeing them with my family. And on top of that, they brought help. I mean, I almost cried when Mom produced a beautiful red suitcase full of food, clothes and supplies from the States. . . my independent travels had left me in such a wretched financial state, I had started to wonder how I would eat for the rest of the year.
Our first day was spent in Madrid, seeing El Palacio Real, which I personally find more impressive than Versailles because it holds so much of its original furnishings. We also saw the cathedral next to it, and its crypt, as well as the world-famous Puerta del Sol, the clock under which thousands would gather to eat grapes at midnight on Nochevieja, New Year's Eve.
We devoted the next day to Toledo. Upon our arrival there, a local artisan led us to the convent where they make the famous gold Toledo designs by hand. I was fascinated to see the care and attention they gave to each piece, particularly the teacher who had worked there for 46 years. We saw also the cathedral which, among other things, had some fascinating architecture and a museum with many pieces by El Greco. For lunch, we had our first paella of the trip, and I was impressed by how much better it tasted from a restaurant than the school cafeteria. From there, we went to see a former synagoge, then a museum with wonderful interactive exhibits, one of which was well-preserved 18th century clothing. We rounded off our day with a visit to the Museo del Prado where, despite the many art treasures it contained, I was entranced by a sculpture I had never heard of, a woman at rest. I don't think I've ever seen one that beautiful and lifelike before.
After such a long day, we slept in the next morning. Before our bus tour, Grandma Sandi bought me a nice, new, warm black raincoat as my Christmas gift from Corte Ingles. It was hard for me to fully express my thanks, as the one I had been using was thirty years old, ragged, and leaking unpleasantly. On our bus tour, we saw a number of really cool skyscrapers I hadn't known existed. Later in the evening we visited the Christmas market in La Plaza Mayor. It wasn't as intricate as the ones I'd seen on my travels, but decent at least. We had a wonderful meal at a kebab place where there was dolma and hummus, some of my favorite food. We came back to the hotel to enjoy my Great Grandma Anabel's wonderful almond bark which she made just for us to have a taste of home on Christmas Eve. I really appreciated this gesture--I've missed her.
Christmas was a travel day to Barcelona, where we stayed in a very interesting period hotel (dated 1916). Our friend Deanna Knipschild was in town with a choir, so Dad and I went to see them. Standing in front of the Grand Teatre Liceu, one of the most ornate concert halls I've ever seen, I was amazed that an SDA choir would be performing there, and when we got inside, I was shocked to see it packed out. The concert was of gospel music, the first full-length concert I've heard in English since the last time I went to a Christian Edition concert with Dad.
Coming off of a cold, wet, rainy day in a bus tour, seeing the various Gaudi buildings, we had a good, satisfying meal at a Spanish restaurant. Then, we battled the blustering rain on La Rambla to get to a flamenco tablao. Unlike the one in Granada, some of these dancers had the stamina for two or three dancers in a row. The men were tall, and I wondered how many times they had smacked their heads on the low ceiling in rehearsal.
My poor father almost got robbed the next morning, but he beat the would-be pickpocketers off with an umbrella. He says it wasn't a big deal, but I'll bet it looked quite comical. He, my mother and I took the day to go up to the monastery of Montserrat while my grandmother and aunt stayed in Barcelona to do some shopping. Even though I don't believe in the legend of the Virgin of Montserrat, it was still inspiring to see something that inspires people to come from all over the world to see like that. The museum was interesting, too, with an early work of Picasso's and many beautiful Spanish works. We finished off the day there with a decent meal before heading down the mountain into its dark but beautiful shroud of iron-gray clouds. That night in Barcelona, we ran into Barry van Iderstein, my beloved former Spanish teacher, and I was able to thank him properly at last for teaching me Castellano in high school, not just Latin American Spanish.
The next day, we saw the Sagrada Familia, which is, news flash, still under construction; I can't believe its devoted architect was killed by a tram after his years of working on it. He really was a genius, to look at the geometry of the place. Dad and I took a stroll past the music palace, the market in front of the cathedral, and the roman ruins before we boarded the train to home sweet home Valencia. We ate in an American restaurant for dinner, and I enjoyed having jalapeño poppers again under the monochrome portraits of silver screen stars.
It really was good getting information in English on some of the things I'd completely and totally missed with the tour with the school. For instance, when I showed my family the historic section of Valencia, I had no idea there were Roman ruins there, or chapels behind Our Lady of the Afflicted, or even that the alleged Holy Grail was in the cathedral. How did I miss that? I made up for my gap of knowledge there by taking my family to my favorite horchateria, where they enjoyed cups of cool, fresh horchata. From there, I took them to the circular market, with some of the best and the cheapest textiles in town. We rounded off our day with a stroll through the City of the Arts and Sciences, which I had never seen at night before. It. . . glitters. The effect is astonishingly beautiful.
Morning brought our exciting day of Dad driving us to Sagunto in a rental car. I showed them my campus in detail, and this finally gave them the perspective on what a long walk it is to town from here. We got lunch from the Mercadona, and ate it as a picnic in front of the castle. It really is so much more lovely on a clear day, and even lovelier when shared with my family. We took a brief trip to Carrefour before meeting up with Jonny and Lidia, with whom I'd be staying after my parents departed, to have a stroll down an area known as Little Venice and a cup of cafe de bombon. Their company was very enjoyable. We rounded off the day looking at the fountains in front of the Palau de Musica. They are almost as spectacular as those in front of the Bellagio in Las Vegas, I believe.
On New Year's Eve, I said good-bye to my parents in the Valencia train station, and rode to Pucol to greet Jonny and Lidia for my next adventure.
This has been an extraordinarily long post, but thank you for your patience in reading it. I would like to take a moment out to thank everyone who either gave or sent me gifts or cards over the holiday season--some of you will never know how these kept me from freezing, kept me from starving, or kept me thinking positively when it wasn't easy. I really appreciate your generosity, and I will never be able to fully express my thanks.
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