La Vida es un Carnaval

Just back from an incredible whirlwind road trip bopping around Europe with a trickster on our back and coronavirus panic whispers in our ears. Our mantra and anthem in the furgoneta (van) was a famous Cuban song: "La Vida es un Carnaval" ..... Basically life is a carnival. And it's better to live your life singing than crying. So even though we endured some downs (cramped and/or superfund site hotel rooms/crowded or closed ski lifts/longer than expected drive times/seasickness/alarming emails from sub-letters/30 euro French tolls) we had SO many ups and big belly laughs and singing and good friends and fondue to bring us through to the carnaval life!

Day 1- Winding Roads & Wine Country

We left Granada under the cover of night and heard the gallinas crowing as we packed into the van. We named him Majon. Majon means a huge piece of poop because that's kind of what he looked like! But we love him. It's a term of endearment, Majon!!! 

We started indulging at around 9 am and didn't stop until our arrival in San Sebastian at 9:30 pm. Our extravagant snacking, drinking and stops along the way culminated in Leo stalking off away from us when we went for an extremely late dinner because he was unable to wear a certain fleece. (We did not understand at this moment how important this fleece was to him)  Pat shook him down in the middle of a square, threw him over his shoulder and our family ended up turning right back to the hotel for a restorative meeting and bedtime. Loads of cappuccinos, fantas, Rioja wine and tapas on the road is super fun in the moment, but FYI might not be the best choice when traveling with young children.

Our stops included the capital of the Rioja wine region, Haro, and the incredible Frank Gehry designed hotel/winery/restaurant, Marque de Riscal. Will sounded the alarm that this last stop was too much by anxiously wringing his hands and stating on repeat: "this is too fancy for us" and "Can we please just go to our hotel?? We don't belong here!" The fanta and chocolate cake we ordered him at the hotel restaurant clammed him up real quick. 

Should have understood that things can only go downhill after Leo took off his shirt in hour 13 of the drive.

Day 2 - Carnaval in Pais Vasco 

Woke up to a stunning sunny day in one of my favorite cities in world, San Sebastian/Donostia. It was Carnvale and the Basque people were out in droves in wonderful and hilarious family/group themed costumes. It was like Bay to Breakers in SF but without the blind inebriation. Everyone was feeling festive and fun. The boys played and swam in the freezing waters as soon as we hit the beach and we soaked up the salty sea air on the warm sand. Pat looked for the perfect wave at the surfing beach, but the waves were "dumping" (I just spent like 30 minutes on a surf slang website trying to remember what Pat called these waves ..... they looked like the would kill someone to me, but apparently they were just like messy not fun waves to surf)  and he decided to skip it for the day (cut to me turning my back to him after this decision was made and making the sign of the cross in relief) 

This is Will gnawing on what appears to be a baby lamb femur (and maybe is?!?!) at our lunch spot.

Closed out the day with some naps and sand wrestling at the surf beach before downing some sweet sweet IPAs and getting in the car for a quick three hour drive across the border and into Bordeaux!

Day 3 - Bordizzy and French Countryside 

This is just your regular, run-of-the-mill bakery in France. A chandelier the size of a juvenile whale and the best goddamned croissant I have ever had in my life.

Bordeaux is beautiful and cool (as are all things in France, eye roll), but we weren't able to take full advantage because we needed to get to the chalet in Samöens, stat! So after some running around on the completely empty Sunday morning streets marveling at the beautiful architecture and eating a bread breakfast with a side of bread, we hopped back into Majon for a 8 hour drive directly east to the French Alps and our dear friends waiting there for us!  

Kinda mad I'm not in this pic. 

Days 4-5-6-7: Ski~Snowplay~Laugh~Shove Cheese/Wine/Beer/Bread/Sausage/Pastry in Face, Repeat

Reunited and it feels sooooooo good! The band is back and better than ever? I can't wait to see them on tour! The girls have turned into ski bunnies and the boys had to train hard the first day to catch up, but they did and they all skied together til Lexine's chicken legs gave out. 

Truly one of the most beautiful places to be. 

This is my favorite pic of the entire trip. His stance! His face! Too much. Mont Blanc in the background, NBD. 

Okay, one of my biggest takeaways from our France ski-a-thon (BESIDES NEVER GO IN FEBRUARY WHEN THE REST OF FRANCE IS THERE ON VACATION), is the mountain chalet food. Growing up, we had soggy fries and limp burgers (I'm sorry Chestnut Mountain in Galena Illinois, but your food was gross!..also, thank you for teaching me how to ski on your tiny, icy and frigid hills), but the food on the mountain in France.......Oooohlala is all I can say. Omelettes, crepes, steak frites, homemade vegetable bisque soups, whipped cream on hot chocolate that was truly the creamiest and lightest, icy cold beers, roast chicken with au jus, fondue!! , ugh, I could go on!

It was blazing hot and so much fun to sit in the sun and eat lunch at this spot the first day.

I had just sustained an incredibly painful tailbone injury but the tall beer and the plastic bag full of snow helped me though it. 

I can't. I just can't. 

When we weren't skiing we were pounding food and wine at the chalet, playing nintendo, sledding, throwing snowballs, building snowmen and/or getting caught in a crazy snowstorm.

Can you spy the two plastic bags full of cut up baguette and the two plastic containers full of cheese on the table? Those are going to be taken down in an intense and extreme way around the fondue pot in a couple hours. 

Ridiculously happy about this snowman. Like stating his love for the activity of building it throughout the process. Named him either Patrick McChubby or Francisco. He couldn't decide on which one suited him more. 

It was tough to say goodbye to our French loves, but we will see them in April in Spain (unless we are all living in bubble quarantines at that point?) and that softens the blow. I mean, Will did cry like a toddler, but that was to be expected. After all, Lexine is his best friend. 

Day 9 - Fourteen Hours in the Car/Thai Dinner/Condo Rental Superfund Site Debacle 

There's nothing much to say about this day except that we woke in the dark in the snow and we went to bed in the dark at the beach. There might have been an incident where we checked into a musty smelling condo on the beach and we might not have been able to open the windows, and we might have said "We'll just figure it out when we get back from dinner" and then we might have returned to the house to find that there were no blankets on the beds and the windows were definitely not going to open and we might have then spotted black mold on the walls due to the flood from the huge storm that occurred there one month ago, and we might have all started coughing and getting headaches and we might have scrambled to find and secure another spot, and then we might have packed the van up again with all of our stuff and it might have been midnight and then the new host might have messaged us saying that she couldn't get to the new condo to open it up for us til 1 in the morning and we might have all gone to sleep in the van on the side of the road like a family of homeless people until she tapped on the window to wake us up. Yes, nothing much to say about this day.

Thai dinner was TDF. We had no idea what lay ahead. 

Day 10 - Javea Surf/Sun/Sail/Cave Swim/Sleep

Redemption day. We had a beautiful big breakfast on the beach and then went out in Pedro's dear friend Vicente's boat. We zoomed out of the bay and INTO THIS CAVE AND IT WAS OVERWHELMNG AND BEAUTIFUL AND WILD.  Will joined Uncle Bobby and Pedro in the icy icy icy waters and swam around a bit. He was grinning ear to ear the whole time and loving every minute of it. We spotted a bunch of blue fish with bright yellow accents (like the kind you only see in aquariums and not in their natural environments). The cave and our time in there blew us away. (Meanwhile I had taken a dramamine which  luckily didn't hit til the latter part of the trip bc I felt anxious and drugged out and unable to speak Spanish so I sat with a weird frozen smile on my face in the back of the boat til the end of the ride.....classic me)

WILL!!!! 

For sure saying something super important. 

Also wish I was in this pic. But I was too busy sitting in a stupor just a few feet away and wondering if I was going to make it back to shore alive. 

There I am pretending everything's fine, but having a secret freakout. 

We came back to our must and mold-free condo for a siesta and drove into the Old Town for a delicious tapas dinner of squid, shrimp, artichokes, cakes and ice creams. Perfect last night on the Mediterranean sea.

Note Leo passed out on table in the background. 

Uncle Bobby carried Leo the whole way and Pat destroyed his back carrying Will six feet before we insisted he wake up and walk himself. 

Sometimes I wonder if I push my kids too hard to live my adult lifestyle. And then I look at these pictures and the answer is a resounding, yes, yes I do. 

Day 10 - Valencia Oranges & Paella,  Home to the Caves

We spent our last day in Javea meeting Pedro's wonderful friends and getting to taste paella where the recipe originated. A true delight. We got into Majon for our last leg with smiles on our faces and our bellies full. Of course we felt car sick within minutes and for the majority of the 5 hour drive, but at this point we had just learned to roll with the punches.

Pedro and Pat picked oranges in Vicente's orchard that morning.

Even though I still haven't stocked up on food/medicine/hand sanitizer/toilet paper like the rest of the world, we have 4 billion of the juiciest, sweetest Valencia oranges you've ever tasted now.

And this. The end. This is at 11 pm at night after returning Majon to his spot in the rental parking lot. We still had to walk to the train station, get into a cab, drive up to Sacromonte and then trudge up the cobblestone streets to get to the caves. But no matter. No hay que llorar. Life is a carnival.