A John's Eye View

We gave John his first camera a little over a year ago. At the time there was a lot of back and forth about whether or not we should get him a crappy kids camera, or the more expensive impact-resistant 'dult camera. Believing that he was capable of creating images that would give us a window into his world AND that would also be worth saving on their own artistic merit, we went for the grown-up camera. Thank God. Behold the images from John's trip to Spain:

Home Again, Home Again Jiggedy Jig

So we are back. The trip home was extremely smooth (aside from the fact that we once again almost missed our flight), as the kids were just stellar all the way back.

We have settled into our at-home routines, and all is well. Normal anyway - Will is swamped with schoolwork, Grace's nose is runny, and the kids spend most of their time together either dressed up like fairies or fighting.

Here are some snippets of conversations that have taken place since we have been back:


Lara (on the way back from the airport): Bobo, tell me about Spain!

John: Well, I liked the castles and the caves best. We went up in the castle and it was really dark and Daddy used his iphone to light up the stairs and on the way back down Gwrampa used his iphone but it wasn't bright enough so I used my camwra and that was good.

Grace (unsolicited): I liked the (incomprehensible toddler speak).

Me: What did you like Grace?

Grace: I liked the (incomprehensible toddler speak).

Me: I'm not sure what you are saying Grace.

Grace: I LIKED THE WALLS.

Me (grasping at straws): Oh, you liked all the old walls?

Grace (as clear as a bell): I LIKED THE WALLS AT THE ALAHAMBRA.

Lara (almost peeing herself at the cuteness): Oh!

Grace: Auntie Ah, I have an owie on my knee.

Will (later): And to think that we just carried her around like a sack of potatoes.

-----

Grace (upon new arrival at home after 10 days away): I have to go pee.

Me: So go pee.

Grace: Oh!....Where the toilet?

-----

John: My new swimming teacher is my best swimming teacher ever!

Me: What do you like about her?

John: Well, I like that she doesn't yell at me all the time...

Me: Anything else?

John: I like the way she looks.

-----

Grace (as I am buckling her into her car seat): Mommy, you just hurted myself!

John: You shouldn't say "myself" Gwace, that's wrong. You should say-

Grace: Aaow?

----

John: Mummy, my Spanish teacher almost never cawls on me to tell her what day it is in Spanish.

Me: Do you mean your French teacher?

John: Yeah, she never cawls on me to tell her what day it is.

Me: Do you know what day it is?

John: Yes! It is Jeudi today.

Me: Ummmmmm, yes that is true.......how did you know that today is Jeudi?

John: Weeelllllllll, it's almost always Jeudi when we have French.

----

Me (to Will): I've just noticed that our toilet paper says "uscented bathroom tissue"...that means that there are people who use scented toilet paper. It's like there's a whole 'nother world out there.

Will: Yeah, Republicans.

Me: What, they're the ones using scented bathroom tissue?

Will: I'm pretty sure.

Spain, Day Ten (Sunday) - Granada to Malaga

Frank and Melanie left for Pamplona this morning long before Will and the kids were up. When they did finally arise, we headed out for a lovely little breakfast at a cafe in the Plaza Nueva. John is clearly feeling better and has his appetite back, although when he asked for a third order of hot chocolate and toast Will told him that we were not going to be the Americans who order three breakfasts each.

Gracie getting a head start on breakfast:


Pan tostada con mermelada:


From breakfast we headed off toward a large local park with playground. We wandered through the university area, past the law school, and ended up getting really lost, with the lovely consequence of discovering the most beautiful, old (although not particularly sterile-seeming) hospital that I have ever seen. Our detour took a very long time, and we finally just picked up the car from the parking garage and headed back to the apartment to have lunch and pick up our bags.

Will, at the law school, reflecting on the BC campus and on potential transfer opportunities:


Full of beans again:



Grace's photo (assisted).


Grace's photo (assisted).

The hospital:



Will gives a lesson on left and right outside a door labeled "Transfusiones"



After lunch we drove back to the playground, which turned out to be very cool and had all sorts of stuff that we don't have in America (which Will and I have concluded indicates that Spain has a less litigious culture). Here are the kids having some fun in the park:













We then set off on a drive up to the ski resort in the Sierra Nevada mountain range (at the foot of which Grenada is nestled). This was, as was expected, a pretty drive, but in the spirit of the past couple of days, we arrived just as the ski lifts were closing (the lift operator shut it down just as we approached the gate). In general, our wee John handles disappointment well, but this insult on top of the Flamenco episode from last night was difficult for him to bear (the lifts were right there in front of him, and they looked REALLY FUN!!)

On our way up the mountains there were palm trees and (strangely) snowboards, promising:


Snow!


Poor, poor disappointed Bobo...


We tried to tell him it was all still really fun:


But Bobo was not convinced.


The scene:


Scenic:


Still, we played in the snow for a few minutes, took a couple of pictures of the view and of our family fun in a Europe-meets-Niagra-Falls-type ski resort, and then bought some bread and nutella with which to feed our hungry, disappointed kids (a little well-timed chocolate can go a long way). On the way down the mountain Will looked over at me, covered in crumbs from cutting a crusty baguette with a plastic knife, and snorted (he disapproves of eating in the car on aesthetic grounds). Me: I know, it's like we're animals. Will: Yeah, animals who've learned to spread nutella.

We drove straight to Malaga, and spent the night at the Novotel near the airport, which gives out stuffed animals (seals or moose, bizarrely) to all child guests. They also have a tiny play room, which the kids enjoyed until late at night, when we finally wrangled them into bed.

Spain, Day Nine (Saturday) - Granada

Today was the first day on this trip that John has seemed quite well. I am not sure about Grace - I think she's not feeling 100% yet, but both of the kids were in pretty good spirits. We wandered into town and saw the Capilla Royal, the burial place of King Fernando and Queen Isabela. This was neat because is was so different from the Alahambra - the art is Christian instead of Moorish. John was fascinated, and it gave us an opportunity to discuss with him some of the basic differences between the two very different styles. He, not surprisingly, was a big fan of the gaudy, overly gilded, representational Christian art. Hmmmm, it seems that I need to give a little more attention to properly molding his aesthetic. Outside the Capilla Royal we stood for a long while listening to some great musicians on the street, and the kids fed coins to a woman dressed as a statue of a nun.
After a lunch at a little middle eastern place in the souk district of the Albyzin, we checked out the shops around us and bought little prezzies for the Harders (not telling what they are though! as I do occasionally pretend that Liz reads this blog). Wandering home, John announced that "today has been extra fun!"

The scene outside the Capilla Royal:










This evening Will and I committed the kind of insane act that makes one question one's suitability as a parent...We decided that we would take the children out on our last night in Granada to see Flamenco dancing, which we were sure that they would love (if John's open-mouthed witnessing of the belly-dancing at Nicole's wedding was any indication of his appreciation for exotic dance). The problem, of course, was that everything in Spain begins so late we had to reconcile ourselves to keeping the kids up really late in order to partake of the evening's events. So we busied ourselves packing up and clearing out of the apartment in order to distract ourselves from the fact that we were increasingly weary - all of us, of course, except Will, who inexplicably got into the shower at midnight...Apparently there were are series of misunderstandings between us - about the fact that my seemingly endless games of Go Fish were actually a way of taking the kids minds off of their exhaustion (and not entertainment that he had to wait for us to finish), about what time it actually was (neither of us have a watch at the moment), about what time the Flamenco was likely to be performed (he thought all night), and about how late the kids and I could possibly be expected to stay awake. When we finally set off at quarter to one, we unhappily discovered that the events we sought were long-past. My spirit broke, Grace's legs gave out, and John broke down into into a miserable, grumpy, shouting, screaming mess. Clearly a different life form, Will tried to point out that it was a lovely night and we could have a beautiful walk. It was now about 1:30 a.m., and I felt like an idiot standing on the street peering hopefully into smoky bars with hoards of drunken youths passing all around me, realizing that even if we had come out at 10:30 this was an event I would have hated. We lugged the kids up the hill and fell into bed.

Spain, Day Eight (Friday) - Granada (Alahambra)

If I ever come back to Granada, I will be sure to take the guidebooks at their word...the Alahambra is difficult to obtain tickets for even off season, like it is now. So, after being told last night that all advance tickets were sold out and that we needed to wait in the morning line if we wanted to get in during our three-day stay here, Frank and Melanie ran out of the apartment at some truly early hour to try to secure entrance today. We were quite lucky, it seems, to get the tickets. Touted by our guidebook as "One of the most sensual architectural creations in the world and the greatest treasure of Moorish Spain), the Alahambra is definitely worth a visit - even if you are, like me, not particularly inclined towards sight-seeing. Very, very lovely. Grace mostly just thumbed her nose at the "no eating in the palace" rule and downed one snack after another (we were just so glad that she was finally hungry that we couldn't bring ourselves to tell her no), but John really connected with the place when we told him that King Fernando and Queen Isabela lived here for a while, and Christopher Columbus may have come to this very palace to try to get Queen Isabela to fund his famous trip (I have no idea as to the accuracy of that idea). The palace was not what John was expecting - he found the decoration surprising, but lovely. Will had also bought John a neat book for kids about the Alahambra, which was great to read to them in advance of the visit.

On the way to the Alahambra:

Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.

Inside the palace:

Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.




Frank's photo.






Frank's photo.












A recurring theme...the children fighting, and Frank avidly learning.

After a couple of hours of palace-gawking, John started dragging his feet and looking a bit green, so I offered to take him home. We headed off, with me carrying him in the backpack, and holding Grace's hand while she bawled that she needed to ride instead of John. Eventually I carried them both - her on my front and him on my back - until I could find a taxi. These kids are both too big and too little to be abroad and sick. We're back, they have fallen asleep and I am enjoying the peace and quiet...

The photos below were taken by Frank and Will, who remained behind with Melanie to see the rest of the Alahambra grounds.

Frank's photo.


Will's photo.


Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.


These mosaic streets and paths are everywhere here. I LOVE them. Love them. LOVE them. They almost make me consider permanently leaving my clothes dryer and central heating behind and taking up residence here in this frost-heave free place so that I could behold them every day.
Will's photo.


Will's photo.


In Plaza Nueva. Two of the pleasures of our time in Spain: the prevalence fresh orange juice and decent coffee.
Frank's photo.

Will and I got a chance to go out by ourselves Friday night for a quick walk around the Albyzin. It was nice to get out for a stroll, and interesting to see (from a distance) a little of the Spanish night life. I still feel really confused about how people live their lives here. There don't seem to be many restaurants around - just tapas bars really - which seems to be the way that people get a dinner into themselves. But where are the family-friendly joints? And when DO the kids go to sleep around here? When do they wake up? How do they function?

Spain, Day Seven (Thursday) - Cordoba to Granada

I am on my last pair of underwear, and the total items of vomit-free childrens' clothing is dwindling rapidly. After an ill-spent morning of breakfasting and packing up and an apparently ill-timed (Frank and Melanie were left waiting for us in the hotel lobby for an hour) trip to Toys R US (that's "Toys Errr Ooos" for all you Spaniards out there) for sunglasses for the kids, we headed off to Granada at around 1:30 pm. The trip is a few hours, and we arrived in Granada mid-afternoon. Our apartment is in the old Moorish quarter here, called the Albyzin. The Albyzin is very pretty - a little like a pueblos blancos, but more crumbly, and with more overt Islamic influences (like mosaics in the streets). Walking around, it is clear that many of the inhabitants actually speak Arabic. After lugging all of our suitcases up two flights of stairs with Melanie (the men very conveniently needed to park the car) I immediately took inventory of the clothes washing situation. There is, of course, no dryer. And, of course, it is raining. And, of course, the detergent box in the apartment is empty.

I have gone out for a long but lovely walk looking for detergent and an adapter, so we can finally plug in all of our electronics without bugging Frank and Melanie to borrow their adapter again. Amazingly enough, I was successful! That I found an adapter is not just surprising because we are in a very residential neighborhood, but also because this success depended on the telepathy of the nice man in the DIY store who sold the thing to me. I looked at him, said "Quiero" and he smiled, patted his forehead, and handed me "un adaptor." I returned with the adapter, detergent and even some fresh fruit, feeling on top of the world. My children however, are not on top of the world. They are still quite green, and I feel bad for them.

We ate dinner in last night, but ventured out for a walk and some mint tea (OK, I went for mint tea, the rest of them were after coffee) afterwards. It was nice; this city is very charming.

I am listening to Grace cough right now, praying quietly to myself that she doesn't throw up again.

View from the terrace of our new apartment at night:

Frank's photo.

Spain, Day Six (Wednesday) - Cordoba

Of course the first thing that we did today was check online to see how Obama had done in Wisconsin and Hawaii...Yee Haw!!! When we all finally tore ourselves away from our computers to get down to breakfast our conversations were not particularly interesting, as we had all poured over the exact same articles. When everyone has the same information there isn't always a ton to talk about.

We had hardly started from our hotel over the bridge across the river to the city's attractions before the kids started in on their hideous fighting and whining. Who gets to ride in the stroller is apparently worth arguing over to the brink of violence - and beyond. By the end of the bridge we had already given John a final warning for the day. I don't know about the rest of the 'dults, but my spirits were low by the time we arrived at the Mezquita (our first stop of the day). It is an impressive structure, although I have to say that I spent a large percentage of my time there with my nose in the Spanish phrase book (there is nothing like a desperate, dancing two year old to inspire language acquisition), trying to figure out how to ask where the bathrooms were (donde esta los servicios), and then just trying to find them on my own anyway after receiving directions from several guards in useless, rapid Spanish.

This is the view of old Cordoba from our hotel:

Frank's photo.

On the road to the Mezquita (note the decorative orange trees):

Frank's photo.

Inside the Mezquita:





Frank's photo.

After the Mezquita we headed out into the Juderia (the old, Jewish quarter), which is really quite charming (although I am pretty sure that the neighborhood that we traveled also happened to be the red light district, as the women in the doorways started seeming a bit suspect, and it was pretty clear that Frank was propositioned in a moment when he rounded a corner ahead of our group). At some early point in the walk we began to look for a suitable place for lunch (much to Frank's chagrin - he didn't want to stop sight-seeing and suggested we would probably all be hungrier if we waited until 7 or 8 at night. No doubt.) We ended up finding a great middle eastern place, with an iced lemonade with fresh mint drink that was fantastic. But poor Bobo couldn't bring himself to eat anything and was clearly feeling poorly.


Frank's photo.


Frank's photo.





By the time we had reached our next destination, the Alcazar de Los Reyes Cristianos (Palace of the Christian Kings), which is a fortress/palace with botanical gardens (a sight we had guessed John would be really into), poor little Bobo was really dragging his feet. The palace was neat, especially the baths and the gardens (where Grace captured the hearts of a group of twenty-something Italian tourists - one of whom taught her how to use her thumb to turn a fountain into a sprayer...she then modeled her new found skill for the next ten minutes while they photographed her with exclamations of "Bella! Bella!")

At the Alcazar:

Frank's photo.











Our wee Grace definitely has a thing for water...like the moth to a flame...

Frank's photo.






Frank's photo.

And our sweet John, trying to keep it together, but feeling rather rough:


We had to carry John out, and he was asleep before we set off back to the hotel around 6 o'clock for a rest. The kids both slept for hours, and when they woke up (at 10 pm!) Frank and Melanie came to our room for dinner. When Grace suddenly projectile-vomited all over the room they decided not to hang out for a movie though. And when the guy from the front desk came up to help clean up and just spread the mess all over the carpet with a broom and mop, I hit a low point and curled up on the bed for a few weepy, pathetic minutes. Then I got up and made a carpet of towels across the room. But honestly, no matter how lovely or exotic the locale, I do not think that there is anything, anything that can make me more homesick than being in a foreign place with two vomiting children and no reliable washer/dryer access.