Touring with the Soups

With heavy eyelids we got ourselves together, took our luggage, checked out of the hotel, got in a cab and went to the Barcelona airport. It was 4am. We were the first people in line for Iberia, in fact we were there before the employees. We finally got checked in and went to our gate. We tried to nap a little while waiting to board, and did actually sleep on the quick flight to Madrid. Once at the Madrid airport, we had to again walk forever to get to our terminal. When we got there I again made my comfortable bed on the benches and got some solid sleep.

  Our flight to Chicago left just before noon. I slept for four hours, and then wrote this blog the rest of the time. As I am typing right now, my ears are popping as we come in for a landing in our hometown. And I was just asked by the passenger behind me to include him in this blog! I guess that means he's just read the whole thing over my shoulder.

Things went smoothly at O'Hare, and we rushed to a cab to get home quickly. We met Eva just as she was getting home from school and she was very happy to see us. Then Colin came running outside to give us a hug. Oh, how I missed them. They looked great and had so much to tell us. They were also very curious about Spain.

We awoke to find the rain had stopped and the sun was trying to peak out. We were energized for our last day in Spain. The day would be spent concentrating on the architecture of Antony Gaudi, but his works are located all over the city. Feeling confident, I suggested we try the subway. Typically, Brett and I aren’t city folk, and we are a little nervous about public transportation. I feel like an expert in Barcelona now though! It was so easy, clean and nice. Nothing like the trains in Chicago. Navigating the system was simple. We even did a transfer! We emerged up from the subway to be greeted by the sight of the Sagrada Familia cathedral.

  This huge cathedral has been under construction for over 100 years, and they are actively building it right now. However, none of the machinery distracts from the beauty of this structure. It is so detailed and so meaningful. It is both modern and gothic. It truly asks you to question what you know about architecture and art. Gaudi was a genius in designing methods that today we can’t do without computers. Our audio guide was very informative, and Brett could barely drag himself away from all the math and engineering geek-stuff in the museum. Without a doubt, upon leaving this site, we both agreed it was our favorite experience in Spain.

  We got back onto the subway to go to a residential building of Gaudi’s. A couple of his buildings are located along one busy street in a beautiful district of Barcelona. We sat outside the Casa Mila, which looks like a prehistoric wedding cake, and had some lunch. Then we travelled down the block to see the Casa Batllo. I had expected to only be able to admire it from outside, but we discovered a tour with an audio guide, so we took advantage. Being inside this home was like being underwater and now I know what the Cheesecake Factory on Michigan Avenue was inspired by. His little touches here and there were so innovative and beautiful. Brett has thus decided that Gaudi is his favorite architect, forsaking our long-loved Frank Lloyd Wright.

  After touring the home and the rooftop, we headed out to one last Gaudi site. This time, we took the bus! This is big for us; I’ve barely ever even been on a Chicago bus. But it was simple. Now I feel like I’ve conquered every form of transportation in Spain. We arrived at the Park Guell, an open air Gaudi display. We had a seriously difficult time understanding the map of the park, but after climbing lots of unnecessary hiking paths, we finally found it. It is a distinctively Gaudi space, with surreal shapes and colors, but it is also different from the other two we saw that day. His primary decoration here is mosaic tile, and he creates a fanciful environment that makes you feel like Alice in Wonderland.

  By this time daylight was running short and our dinner plans were coming up. We walked to the subway station and took the train back to the hotel, where we packed up all of our belongings and got ourselves prepared for departure. Our dinner was at 7:30, and our plane was leaving the next morning at 6:40am. I knew if we go any sleep at all, we weren’t going to be clear headed enough to pack in the morning.

  We got dressed for dinner and used our last two train passes to get to the restaurant. We were going to a place called Tickets, which is a high-end tapas bar known for its famous chefs, the Adria brothers. They are the celebrities of Spanish food, and the reservation isn’t easy to get. We arrived to find a carnival environment- dinner there is really a performance. We were seated at the bar where we could watch the chefs create their strange dishes with smoke and ice cream cones. We told the waitress to bring us anything she would suggest, so we tried practically the whole menu, including everything on the wine list. We figured it was our last night of freedom and we may as well celebrate. We talked to lots of the other patrons and the staff and had a fantastically fun time.

  We made some new friends, a couple from Canada, and together we shut down the restaurant. Since Tickets kicked us out, instead of going home like responsible adults, we went next door for more drinks. At this point it was clear that we weren’t going to be sleeping before our flight. Around 3am, this bar wanted to close down too, but as we said goodbye to our new friends, I discovered that my purse was gone! Damn. I had made it through the whole trip with no problems and now at the final moment I have to deal with this.

In the morning we packed up and took a cab to the train station in Seville for our last cross country ride. Since we were professional train riders by this time it was simple. I don’t exactly understand the whole ticketing system though, with the stamps and the multiple check-ins, but whatever I did, I guess it was the right thing because we made it to each location. This was to be a very long train ride, so I began outlining and writing this blog. Brett watched movies on his ipad, and soon enough we arrived in Barcelona to find it raining and dark. Brett said it was only appropriate that we return at the end of our trip to the same weather we started with in San Sebastian.

  Our hotel was located off the Ramblas, a typically busy pedestrian street, but with such gloomy skies, it was virtually abandoned. The hotel had a beautiful lobby, but our room was teeny tiny. I am looking forward to giving my feedback on all of our experiences on tripadvisor. I think it is silly to put a couch in a hotel room that’s already too small for two people.

  Regardless, we were in Barcelona and we were hungry. Two blocks away we found the Boqueria de Mercat. It is a famous open market that also features a few tapas bars. We gaped at the foods displayed. Colorful candies, fruits, vegetables and spices. Horrific cuts of meat like tongue, brain, nose, and head. Smells of all kinds. We chose a very popular bar to sit down at and asked the cook to give us his best dishes. We had a grilled seafood mix and monkfish. It was my first time with razor clams, and they are really good. One of the best parts about the food in Spain is the gravy and butter that settles out of every dish. They give you tons of bread and you just scoop that goodness up.

  With happy tummies we plunged back out into the rainstorm to walk the Ramblas. The charm is lost when you are dripping wet and can’t see anything for the raindrops. We got to the end and then walked back up through the Gothic Quarter. The streets weren’t as well drained as San Sebastian, and our feet were really getting soaked. We came upon the town’s gothic cathedral and we ducked in to appreciate its beauty and also to dry off a little.

We continued to try to make the best of things, so we attempted to see the Catalyn music palace, but it was closed for the day. Things were becoming a little depressing. In hopes of salvaging the day, I suggested we take a cab to the Montjuic area to see the famous magic fountain. When we got in the cab, once again, the driver was confounded by my instructions. I had a map marked with where I wanted to go, and he didn’t seem to think it was a good idea, but finally he reluctantly let me have my way and took us there.

We were basically dropped off in an abandoned park. I really thought I knew what I was doing, but search as we might for this fountain, we could not find it. It was dark and rainy and a little spooky, and neither of us could figure where to go, so we finally just decided to abort and walk back to the hotel. The park really was lovely though, and it was romantic to be there all alone. Also, on our walk back we discovered a gorgeous outlook over the city with all of the lights stretching for miles into the mountains.

We reluctantly got out of bed for our third and last day in Seville and headed to tour the bullfighting ring. I enjoyed this site. We were given a tour of the stadium and a bullfighting museum. I cannot fully understand the tradition of bullfighting but I can appreciate it for it’s cultural significance. Brett doesn’t care for it at all, and just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. 

  We left to walk across the river again and follow the directions from Monica to one of her favorite tapas bars in her own neighborhood, Triana. This neighborhood is famous for its ceramics, and there was so much I wanted to buy, but I was afraid it would break on the flight home. I settled on some tiles because I figured they were sturdy enough to withstand the trip.

We were very proud of ourselves as we found the location Monica sent us to, ordered our own tapas, and paid the bill without offending any locals. It truly felt like an accomplishment. The food was amazing. I must say that there are mediocre tapas all over Spain, and unless you know where to go to find the good stuff, you might be disappointed.

  The most obvious landmark in Seville is the cathedral and tower. It dominates the middle of the city with its size and imposing gothic architecture. After seeing it from the outside many times a day, we finally had time to go inside to tour it. It is humbling to be in a cathedral this big (the third largest in the world). The ceilings just go on forever. We looked around through the ground floor and admired the details. This is also the resting place for Christopher Columbus’ body, an we saw his tomb. 

Then we climbed the 34 flights to the top of the tower, called the Girarda. The view is outstanding of both the city and the cathedral rooftops. We took lots of pictures, and as we were just about to leave, the bells in the tower toll for 3:45. My poor husband almost died on the spot. I think we both had a heart attack from the surprise, and hurried down the tower so we wouldn’t be up there for the cacophony of 4pm. Instead we sat and listened to the bells in the orange grove plaza and called home to hear the kids’ voices.

Monica had mentioned an area for some good shopping, and I wanted to explore it a little. Unfortunately it was Sunday, and although there were many people out in the streets, the stores were all closed. We just wandered on, though, and happened upon a strange landmark called the Metropol Parasol. It’s a large plaza covered by a wooden structure that looks like mushrooms made of honeycombs. I know that sounds odd, but it was actually really interesting. And a pleasant surprise just to happen upon.

On our first full site seeing day in Seville we started with the Real Alcazar. This campus is a royal palace and gardens that continues to serve the Spanish royal family today. As usual, we got the audio tour and began to explore the grounds. The amazing thing about this site is the Moorish influence in the architecture and decoration. They used ceramic tiles, but also intricate carvings that appear more Islamic and Asian than catholic. The details were astonishing. We also visited the upper palace, where the living quarters were. Again, being royalty is so opulent. Room after room of lush furnishings, easily competing with the rooms at the palace in Madrid. These rooms also had a more tropical feel though, and looked out onto verdant gardens. No photos were allowed inside this area, sadly.

  At this point we had to hurry back to the hotel. In another attempt to forget about Botin, I booked a tapas tour with a local guide for lunch. Brett really loved the tour with Lourdes and I wanted to replicate the experience. We met up with our friendly guide Monica, who took us to three tapas bars. On our own, Brett and I would have never entered the places went with her. We were intimidated by busy places, but also by places that were empty. We never knew what to order or even how to order. Monica really helped us out! She spent three hours teaching us all about the food and culture and showing us secret spots in the city with unbelievable specialties. We ate fresh salted prawns, pork cheek and iberico ham, which is kind of a religion for Monica. She also gave us a list of other tapas places to attempt in the area and noted which of their dishes were the best. It was an essential tool for us to enjoy the next couple days.

  After reluctantly saying goodbye to Monica, we walked through town to the Plaza d’Espana. This structure was built for a national exposition in the early 20th century, but today is a general gathering spot and park. It was so impressive. The tile work that this city does! The colors are mainly blue and white with bright oranges and greens. It seemed like every surface was covered in them. There was a little water way that families were rowing in and there were benches representing each city in Spain along the inner plaza. I didn’t expect to enjoy this spot as much, but I could have spent hours there.

With the memories of Botin still dancing in our stomachs, we departed from our hotel in Madrid for the train station the next morning. As small as the station had been at San Sebastian, this one was huge. Also, our ticket process was more complicated. We made it all the way through security to discover that I needed a stamp on my train pass and I had to leave Brett behind and travel across the train station to obtain it. Time began to run short for our departure as I waited in line for this stamp. All I kept thinking was how much I wanted to leave Madrid and now I was going to be trapped here. But the line suddenly moved, and I got the stamp, made it back to security, and made it into the train with just minutes to spare. This particular railway was an express, and it only took two and a half hours to get to Seville.

  We got into a cab and drove into the Santa Cruz quarter, where our hotel was located. The streets in Seville are just barely wide enough to fit cars, and this ride was harrowing. I am relieved that we never really considered renting a car on this trip, because we couldn’t have managed the navigation or the insanity. This cab driver went down streets regardless of their width or of the pedestrians walking on them.

  Our hotel was in the middle of a tiny street and our room looked out onto the street and a plaza. The weather in Seville was warmer than the two other northern cities we had been in, and being out on the balcony nearly felt tropical. The hotel was small but not as intimate as the Casa de Madrid. In general, it was a much more legitimate operation. It was decorated in the Sevillian style of tile work and was really lovely to return to each day. We would be spending three nights in this particular room, the most on the trip in one place, and it was nice to have a really comfortable home. We also took the opportunity to use the hotel’s laundry service and it felt great to have clean clothes packed in the suitcase again.

  Upon checking in we asked for some help with restaurant reservations. Since Botin had been such a disaster, I wanted to redeem myself. I looked into some of Seville’s best restaurants, and our concierge got us reservations at both for the next two nights. Our stomachs would be happy again.

  I had a very difficult time orienting myself in Seville. Everything looks the same (tall, tight apartments) and one can’t get any sort of perspective or long view because the sight line ends with your current block. I was really mixed up for a few hours and got frustrated by my inability to figure it out. Not even iphone navigation made any sense to me.

  We stumbled upon a lunch spot that looked popular and we sat down. After a little confusion with the waiter who’s pronunciation of the word “wine” sounded awfully similar to the word “white,” we had a little bit to eat and watched the people. Then we headed down to the river front to visit the Tower of Gold and take in the view from there. We also walked along the river, across the bridges, and back again. The city was quiet compared to Madrid and we were relieved for that. It was also cleaner and much more interesting in terms of decoration and architecture.

  Dinner that night was at Contendador. This restaurant appeared to be close to our hotel, but with such a maze of streets, there is no direct route anywhere. Still we decided to walk, because had we wanted to take a cab, it would have taken us even longer to get there, since half of the streets are closed to cars.

  Contendador was a small restaurant priding themselves in fresh, home grown ingredients. Our strategy was usually to arrive at meals earlier than most locals so we could engage the waiters in English and they could take their time with us. Our nice server translated every item on the chalk board for us and made recommendations. They were delicious, truly great, especially a mushroom dish that felt like a hug from the inside. The place was very popular, and casual. It seemed like everyone that came in to eat knew someone else already there!

The next morning the city seemed cleaner and we promised ourselves we would avoid the Puerto del Sol and improve our attitude about Madrid. Our first destination was the royal palace, very close to our hotel. The plaza outside the palace was very enjoyable, with street performers and lovely views. We rented the audio tour for the inside of the palace and started our exploration. Never in my life have I been so astonished by opulence. Around every turn, through every door, the palace was just more and more beautiful. Supple wall coverings, intricate furnishings, paintings, riches, silver. It was too much. I actually cried in the dining room. I was overwhelmed with the beauty and with imagining myself sitting there dining in such surroundings. Sadly, there are no pictures allowed inside. 

  Outside of the palace we also visited the armory to see the weaponry and protection the men used in jousting and battles. Again, the riches and intricacy of these items made one awfully jealous of the Spanish ruling family. Next to the castle is a modest cathedral from the outside, but inside the colors and designs were surprisingly modern. Since there was no tour available, I need to do more research about the stylings. They certainly weren’t the traditional renaissance or baroque styles of the other cathedrals I’ve seen.

  We left this area to take a walk along the Gran Via, Madrid’s Michigan Avenue. Again, it was dirty and busy. We pushed our way through the masses and had lunch at the top of a department store that featured gourmet dining counters. The view from up here was amazing, just seeing how twisted and packed the city streets are. We could see the palace in the distance. We got our food from Street XO, the little brother restaurant to the famous Diver XO in the city. It was delicious, though the waiter did not suffer tourists kindly.

  After that we continued along the Gran Via until we arrived back at the Buen Retiro. I wanted a romantic boat ride on the duck pond. We rented a row boat and enjoyed an hour on the water, relaxing to the sounds of the street musicians, the visitors and the ducks. It was totally serene, but then again, I wasn’t the one rowing.

Next we walked back toward our hotel to visit the Plaza Mayor. It was a beautiful plaza, but the shops were tacky and our timing was wrong for eating, so we enjoyed a couple drinks and watched the people. They plaza was being set up for Christmas celebrations and in a few weeks it will be glowing with gorgeous lights.

  We returned to the hotel to prepare ourselves for dinner. Our second restaurant destination of note was to be Botin. It is the oldest continuous restaurant in the world, and a common tourist destination, though we were told the food would defy “tourist” level expectations. It was just outside the Plaza Mayor, and as we arrived there was a huge crowd outside. I thought this was a very good sign, meaning it was good. Actually, they just weren’t open yet. It was a real stampede to get in once they did open the doors. The staff that sat us wasn’t rude per se, but we were not treated much like a guest. The tables were packed together, the lighting was blinding, and we were rushed to order.

  We both picked the “meal”: garlic soup, suckling pig, dessert. The suckling pig is the specialty of the house, and we knew we couldn’t go wrong. We started with a salad, which was quite tasty, but sadly the highlight of the meal. Once again, the soup I was served was inedible. I have most definitely learned my lesson about soup in Spain. I couldn’t take more than a few spoons full, just greasy and utterly tasteless. Brett plowed through his, though he later regretted it. Next we were served three portions of suckling pig with three potatoes. The potatoes were shriveled and dry, but I ate them, because I could hardly swallow the pig. It was served with its skin, which doesn’t bother me, and a few hairs on the skin would also be acceptable. But mine was covered with more than a few. Unappetizing. I carved out the meat the best I could but it was dry and got worse with every bite. I did my best, but this terrible food paired with awful atmosphere was just agonizing.

  Brett compared it to eating at a restaurant in Disney World. You are crammed into a terrible environment, forced to choose from food you don’t want to eat, served by indifferent waiters, and offered tasteless food. They didn’t even get the dessert right, and the waiter just shrugged and said “sorry.” We paid as quickly as we could and rushed out of there. We just wanted it to be over, and it felt like we were escaping from jail. The taste of the meal would haunt both of us until the next morning, and I swear, it caused me insomnia that night.

The next morning we left our posh room at the Londres and took a cab to the train station. The next test of my planning skills would be to navigate the rail system here. The station at San Sebastian was tiny though, so it was easy to get checked in and ready to board. In fact, we were there far too early. Finally the train came and we boarded expecting conditions to be like the trains in Chicago. Not at all. This is luxury travel! Foot rests, leather seats, tvs, dining car. Much better than flying because of the spaciousness. The ride took five hours to Madrid; we slept and read and got prepared to tackle a new city.

  Arriving in Madrid was nothing like San Sebastian. Where as our former location had a quiet charm, Madrid was up in our face. Lots of scurrying about in the train station and so many more people, but gratefully, no rain. We asked a cab to take us to our hotel, but felt a sense of alarm when he didn’t actually recognize the name or location of the Casa de Madrid at all. It’s not a good sign when the local cab drivers have never even heard of the place you are going to stay. He took some advice from some other drivers and we plunged into the big city traffic that is mid-day Madrid.

  The Casa de Madrid was recommended in books and online, but it is not your typical hotel. Much more like a bed and breakfast. I was warned that there would be no sign on the exterior, and when the cab driver dropped us off at the address, I’m pretty sure he didn’t think we had any idea where we were going. We approached the building and couldn’t even figure out how to get in. An amused by-stander helped us by demonstrating how stupid we were, and eventually we got inside. We were greeted by the innkeeper, named Paula, who put our minds at ease. Without her, I’m not sure we would have stuck to our reservation.

  To get up in to the inn, we put our suitcases in an elevator, which Paula described as the “minimal expression of an elevator” and which I assumed had never carried anything as heavy as our baggage. The flat was lovely, with lots of comfortable furnishings and home touches. Our room was a bit odd, decorated in greek columns, and we never quite got the hang of the light switches, but it was our home base for two days and we made the best of it.

  We needed to get a jump on site seeing, and out we went. Finding our way around San Sebastian was simple since it was small, but in Madrid things got complicated. I had my nose glued to our map and worked hard to get a handle on the street signs (on the side of the buildings). We wanted to wind our way toward the Prado Museum via the Puerto del Sol, a recommended plaza. The hustle of the big city was such a shock that both Brett and I became a little nervous. Too many people speaking  different languages! Dirty streets due to a garbage man strike! Unfriendly faces annoyed with the tourists! We had a minor breakdown. The Puerto del Sol is now synonymous with the low point of our vacation. Imagine being a foreigner in Times Square in the 1980’s. That was our experience.

  We plodded forward though, and came out on to the beautiful campus that featured the Prado. We breathed a little easier. We bought our tickets and rented our audio guides and began to explore. Velazques, Goya, Ruebens, El Greco. Their works were beyond astonishing. The size of the paintings of Ruebens works. The colors in El Greco. The detail in Velazques. And the brutality in Goya. Seeing these paintings at the Prado was truly a life changing experience for both of us.

  In awe, we left the museum. I will never forget Brett telling me how grateful he was that I planned such a wonderful trip and took him to see the paintings at the Prado. It was a wonderful moment.

  We walked on, looking for a bite to eat, and found what appeared to be a reasonable place. Brett got some delicious food. I did not. I ordered “onion soup with grilled cheese”, and hoped to get a bowl of soup and a sandwich. Instead, I got a bowl of pureed onions. I tried my best, but I just couldn’t keep eating it. It’s so difficult to be in a foreign country and not know the customs. Do you just walk in and sit down? Do you order at the counter? How do you get the bill? Add to that, not liking your food and wanting something different. It was complicated. They eventually solved my problem by giving me a piece of cheese toast, but it took a few hours to get that onion taste out of my mouth.

  Next we walked through the el Retiro, a park similar to Central Park in New York. Lots of hiking paths, a large duck pond, many surprise amphitheaters, etc. It was a beautiful night and we enjoyed the quite respite in the middle of the city. 

  We emerged near the Riena Sofia museum. Since Spain is on such a shifted schedule, the museums stay open very late. We arrived just at the right moment because at 7pm, the museum is free for the rest of the evening. This museum features Picasso’s most famous and important work, the Guernica. We wove our way through the museum to find it.

The painting depicts the fear and brutality of a bombing of the town of Guernica in the 1930’s but is truly representative of all war and human suffering. The piece is huge and emotionally overwhelming. The room, though full of visitors, was silent. I enjoyed the photographs of the paintings progress as well as Picasso’s sketches for the individual characters in the piece. I proclaimed that if he had only painted the Guernica and the test sketches, Picasso would still be known as an artist of the utmost importance.

  At this point we were at one end of the city, and we had wanted to dine at a place all the way on the other. We had seen a restaurant, La Gabinoteca, on a tv show and the food looked so amazing that we had to try it. We grabbed a cab and he took us on the long path across town. Traffic was awful and once again, I’m not sure this driver trusted us that this location existed. I feel like we traveled from Chicago to introduce the people of Madrid to secrets in their city.

  Again the cab driver dropped us off with doubts that we actually were in the right place, but right around the corner was our destination. This restaurant was hip and stylish, and we arrived just as it opened, which gave us lots of time to chat with the wait staff and get the insider information. They gave us their best recommendations and we were not disappointed. It was so much fun to relax after our busy day, enjoy some non-onion-soup nourishment, and talk about art. The most fun dish we were served as called the “not authentic Caesar salad.” A flower pot was served to us with a lettuce plant growing in it. We were given scissors and expected to harvest our own lettuce and put together our salad. 

The next day the fog was still keeping the daylight from being too bright, and it was a big surprise when I awoke to see that it was 1pm! I suppose we were trying to catch up from our long day of travel, but that was a little ridiculous. Thankfully, we had no big plans for the day and we really could take a leisurely start for vacation. Still, it is disorienting starting one’s day in the afternoon.

  We headed out into the rain, which was coming down harder than the previous day. I quickly discovered that although I had thought of everything in terms of packing and preparation, the one pair of shoes that I bought specifically for the trip were not waterproof. They were soaked within minutes. I was walking around with sponges on my feet, uncomfortable and fearing getting sick. Our first order of business was thus to get me a good new pair of shoes. Once I bought my new boots, my entire state of being improved. My poor old shoes would have to wait a few days until they were dry again.

  We walked through San Sebastian in spite of the rain, and enjoyed the shops, the cathedral and the picturesque bridges. It’s a small town, and at this time of year, they don’t have many tourists, and we felt like we were really part of the culture. We were brave enough to try our hand at pinxtos, though back at a place Lourdes had taken us. We didn’t want to eat too much though, because that evening we would be having dinner at a two Michelin star restaurant.

  I had reserved our dinner at Mugaritz, which is slightly afield from San Sebastian, but a short cab ride. In anticipation of the meal, we had watched a few food shows about the chef and the food experience. We didn’t know exactly what to expect, but knew it would be delicious. We arrived in the dark and rainy evening to be greeted by a hostess with umbrellas to protect us and the smell of a wood burning fireplace. We were led to the origin of the fireplace, a small lodge built as a waiting room for diners. We joined another couple sipping champagne, and we followed suit. In a few minutes, we were escorted back through the courtyard and into the restaurant.

  The space inside was also much like a lodge or cabin, but with modern tables and white fabric partitions to give each table privacy. The staff was so gracious and tried their best with English. We ate nearly 25 courses, all beautifully plated if not delicious. I would say that I didn’t care for a few things (fermented rice, fish in slime), but I could still appreciate them. We were invited to view the kitchen and speak with the evening’s chef. He was delightful and proud of his work. With him, we ate a little sandwich made of four fried fish (the whole fish- eyes and all) about the size of a half dollar.

  Next to our table at the meal was an older gentleman who also spoke English. There was no partition between us, and since he spoke our language we politely conversed throughout the meal. His name is Paul and he’s from Australia, but he lives in Idaho now, and since his divorce after 36 years of marriage, he decided to travel the world and eat at every top restaurant. He was friendly and enjoyable and we invited him to join our table for dessert. We had a great time talking about food, politics and the state of the world with him.

As we approached the ground, it was foggy and rainy. The San Sebastian airport is as small as you can get and still be referred to as an airport, but very charming. We disembarked in the rain and stood next to the plane as they unloaded the baggage. This was a moment of truth for me, because I had very little faith that our two suitcases could successfully complete the journey of 4,000 miles, through two airports, and arrive at the same time we did. In fact, I had packed a carry-on full of provisions.

  One by one, passengers took their bags, and there we stood in the rain with one other woman who also appeared to be growing impatient. We looked at each other with wide eyes as the steward said that was all the baggage and closed the doors to the hull. However, he then demonstrated that there was an actual baggage claim indoors and the larger luggage would be coming out there. Relief, until one of our bags didn’t come out there either! Ah ha! It was in customs. I had to open it and dig through my clothes so they could be assured I wasn’t a terrorist. We had finally arrived on vacation!

  In preparation for the trip, I had withdrawn $1,500 US to exchange for Euros and use for our cash expenses. Brett found my plan flawed, since anywhere we would exchange the money would charge a large fee. Instead, I carried around all that cash the entire trip. I don’t know if I was more scared to lose that or our passports. Instead of using that money, we used ATMs to take Euros from our bank account. With a few bills in hand, we could leave the airport and take a taxi to San Sebastian and our hotel.

  It was still raining and foggy, but quite pretty on the drive into town. Our hotel, The Londres, was directly on the bay leading into the Atlantic Ocean, and as a delightful surprise, our room had a balcony that opened above the beach and the water. They view was nothing I’ve ever experienced and I will say that the fog and rain added to the romance of it. We could see the entire expanse of the bay, along with the diminutive island in the center. We could watch dogs cavorting on the beach and some brave swimmers.

  In the summer weather, this town is like the French Riviera and our hotel had the feeling of turn of the century aristocracy. Upon arriving and checking in though, all we wanted was to lie down and get some real sleep. We tucked in, set an alarm, and slept for a few hours to the sound of the waves crashing up on the beach.

  After we woke up we felt much better. We got ourselves cleaned up, which also felt amazing, and walked through town to meet a guide who we had reserved to give us a tour of the local food. In San Sebastian, the tapas tradition of visiting bars for small plates is a little different. Locally they are called Pinxtos (pin-cho), meaning toothpick, as they are served on one. I thought it would be a good idea to have a guide for our first experience in Spain, and since we were coming for the food primarily, I wanted to get the most out of our visit.

  It was an excellent choice! Our guide’s name was Lourdes, and she is originally from the area, but lived in Britain and brought back her British husband and a kids a few years ago so she could raise her family in her traditions. She was really welcoming and knowledgeable that we immediately felt like old friends. She gave us the perfect orientation to her city and country, with many historic lessons and current news.

  And the food was amazing. We went to five pinxtos bars. Since it was a Monday evening, many of Lourdes’ standard haunts were closed (their rest day), but she knew of some very good ones that would serve us. It was raining and there were not many people out in the streets so we had many of these places to ourselves to sit and enjoy. We tasted prawns, beef cheek, Iberian ham, bread pudding, suckling pig, and many different types of drinks. My favorite is called txokoli, which is a salty white wine from the region. 

We had lots of time at the airport. I’m a little nervous about travelling, and I wanted to make sure we could get through security and check in without having to rush. I was very proud of myself as we checked our luggage, since both suitcases were less than 25 lbs. I have a reputation for not packing light. Onto our terminal with time to spare. We watched the remainder of the Bears game, had some lunch and prepared to board. It was to be a seven hour flight, basically overnight, and I had hoped to sleep. Brett had no intention of sleeping since he has a tough enough time in a real bed let alone an airplane. I had reserved our seats in an exit row. We had a lot of legroom and found it as comfortable as an airplane can possibly be.

  I did some reading. I brought along my current book club selection “My Year of Meats.” I meant to finish it and then go onto “the Scorpio Races.” “Meats” turned out to be graphically damning of the food industry, and I will admit that it made me think twice about what I was eating on our trip. But you don’t travel 4,000 miles to NOT eat Iberian ham, so I put it out of my mind.

  Airplanes have changed a lot since I travelled TWA in the 90’s with my parents. Every seat had an ipad type device that we could choose movies, tv shows and music from. Brett watched some movie that he knew I would never sit through, and I watched “The Conjuring.” It was fun and scary. The food on the plane was quite nice, with real silverware and everything! I felt comfortable, I was sure I could fall asleep.

  Nope. I tossed and turned, but pretty much stayed awake the whole flight. Maybe I caught a few naps here and there, but I just couldn’t find a position that was sleep inducing. Neither could Brett. I was really worried that our vacation was getting off on a bad foot. What if we were too tired to enjoy it? Worse, what if we were crabby the whole trip?

  We landed in Madrid to an airport that seemed abandoned. It was too early in the morning for average Spaniards. Customs was quick, but the distance to the domestic terminal seemed like a marathon, mostly because we were so tired. There were signs posted as to how much time it would take to walk to each terminal, and our path took about 30 minutes. We were and early that our connecting flight to San Sebastian was not even included on the departures boards and we really had no idea to which terminal we were headed. We gambled, found an abandoned area, and attempted to sleep on the benches, curled around the armrests meant to keep people from sleeping on the benches.

My husband Brett and I have been together for 16 years. During this time we have graduated from college, bought two houses, had myriad jobs, had two kids and have loved life in the peaceful environs of the suburbs of Chicago. As of late, we have become quite interested in dining well and enjoying the city’s unique and famous restaurants. There are many options in Chicago, and throughout the United States, but we are often envious of the gastronomic offerings abroad.

  During our 16 years we have never travelled from North America together. The last time I left our continent was when I was a teenager with my parents. Brett travelled for work to Beijing, but it was hardly a leisure trip. Since the children are no longer babies needing high maintenance care, my parents said they were willing to take care of the kids and we were free to take a long vacation.

  As we began to discuss the idea of traveling, we settled upon Spain. The food in that country is consistently ranked some of the best in the world, and the restaurants are currently doing very special things with their dishes. Spain also seemed like a good introduction into the world of travel. Not too many tourist sights that we would feel overwhelmed, a fairly approachable language, and a small enough country that we could complete a grand tour in ten days.

  After my parents agreed to come and live with the children during our trip so the kids could attend school, I started outlining our schedule and researching reservations for hotels and restaurants. I committed to a period in November because it was after the rush of the new school year, before the holidays were in full swing, tolerable weather in Spain, and I would have plenty of time to complete my planning.

  I studied a map of the country and talked to our many friends who have travelled and lived there. We debated which cities to visit, and at one point talked about going to one of the Mediterranean islands, but finally agreed on an itinerary of San Sebastian (north), Madrid (central), Seville (south) and Barcelona (east). We would be going to San Sebastian primarily for the food, Madrid for the art, Seville for the culture and Barcelona for the architecture.

  I booked our flight with Iberia. It may have been my inexperience as a traveler, but I found their online system inefficient and confusing. The flights were not easy to view and booking them was a multi step process that included many phone calls with serious language interference. Finally I got it worked out though.

  I moved on to making hotel reservations. Without any knowledge of the cities we would be visiting, I relied on friends’ recommendations and Tripadvisor.com reviews. When making these plans I constantly second-guessed myself. It is easy to look at a book or website and see the good in a location, and a whole other story to actually sleep there and use it as a “home” in a foreign country. I had to make decisions though, as I was becoming obsessed. I needed to make some solid plans before my time actually ran out!

  Once we were committed to our dates and our hotels, I got to work on restaurants, which was much more fun and less stressful. I also worked with the railway system to arrange our travels throughout the country, and found their customer service terrific and simple. I watched DVDs and read books and started making our daily itinerary to include our must see sights and additional tours. When I travelled as a kid with my parents, we always did guided tours, with an American tour group. This trip was going to be on our own. We felt like I could manage the planning and that half of the fun of vacation was going to be finding adventures in surprising places. Essentially, my goal of the trip was to see a few important sights, but mostly to relax, eat and drink, immerse in a culture and gain new memories.

  As we got closer to our departure on November 10, 2013, I began preparing the clothing, supplies and documents we would need. I put together a huge document for my parents to follow regarding the kids’ schedules and routines, as well as directions around town and emergency phone numbers. I had never left the kids for that long, and this was really important for my peace of mind. I figure my parents would ignore all of the rules and commentary, but at least I did my part.