Uhlfelder News

December 5, 2007. I must have burned 10,000 calories today. At 9:00 a.m. I was supposed to meet a couple of guys for a run and I ran over to meet them (about 10 minutes plus a subway ride) and we ended up running about 1:20 with about half an hour of fast running; then I went home, and turned around and rode my bike to my Spanish lesson – about five miles round trip with lots of stops and fast starts. Then I met Anne for lunch and we walked around to buy sandwiches, then to another park with the dog. Then I went to buy food for dinner (bought too much) at the market and met Anne and walked and rode the bus to Joshua’s school to have his seventh birthday at school, then back on the bus and walking. Then I had to pick up the rental car and a mere three hours later and four metro/tram rides, I managed to drive home and park and walk home. Yikes!

December 6, 2007. Off to Carcassonne, a windy three-hour drive from Barcelona in our rental Mercedes, where the “Cité” of Carcassonne is a walled city built between the 11^th and 13^th centuries and renovated probably over the last 150 years.

On arrival we were downtown and ended up eating a good meal at a good price except the restaurant was smoking. Dogs, and especially Rocket, were welcome. Strangely, some Spaniards came in and asked for the non-smoking section. Since we were it, they seated them next to us. I ended up finding out that as of January 1, 2008 all public spaces in France will be non-smoking! We got here a month early.

Our hotel was a short walk to the walled city, and we ended up walking around the perimeter of the entire city, about a mile or so, at night. We were basically alone except within the city itself where there are restaurants, shops, and lots of Spaniards taking advantage of the holiday. There were places where we walked that were 15 to 20 feet above the ground with no guard rails, something that would NEVER be allowed in the US or probably even in Spain.

December 7, 2007. Pearl Harbor Day. We started out with a nice hotel breakfast, lots of choices, tons of coffee, fruit, fresh OJ, etc… Then we decided it was time to visit some of the local stuff that we were told about including two villages. So we headed north and arrived, totally by mistake, in a village that had a lot of castles on a hill called Les Quatre Chateaux de Lastours.

We found a way in, which required a five Euro entrance plus two for each boy. And we hiked about 500 vertical feet to the four chateaux. This was a bunch of steps and as we started the rain got worse. By the time we visited the Chateaux, it was raining pretty constantly and we were getting wet. As you topped out at the Chateaux, the wind and rain was coming sideways.

After that nice hike, where we found the place completely by accident, we went to the original destination, the town of Cabrespine. We had no idea what was here; it was just a place circled on the map we were given. A note here about the roads: imagine driving on the narrows of independence pass but with no traffic; welcome to Languedoc back-roads. The place in incredibly beautiful with pine forests, narrow well taken care of roads, views that are consistently breathtaking, castles everywhere, in short a real disneyesque experience. Locally they call this region “L’Aude” and it’s sort of the soon to be discovered Provence. Right now it’s still kind of run down (“charming” in Peter Mayle-ese). Once Peter arrives, though, voila, c’est fini.

Anyway, the place is crawling with Spaniards who do not speak a word of French, and we’re happy to report that either there is no communication or it’s attempted in English. The Spaniards don’t really speak English and the French generally don’t speak Spanish and neither really speaks English. Today we learned that the Spanish haven’t even taken the trouble to learn the word “cheese” in French (fromage).

So we arrived at Cabrespine to find a sign saying something up the hill. So we went up the hill, then got to a place to find a cavern that makes anything I’ve seen in the US, including Carlsbad Caverns, look very petit. This was a giant cave, with stalactites, stalagmites, lighting and about a five hundred foot drop into whatever was below. They had only opened it for the week-end because they know Spanish people may visit (otherwise it’s closed in December) and the guy in charge was sort of, well, uninterested in working.

Anyway, I negotiated a discount for Anne and myself, got us all in including the dog and a box of cookies and took photos, ate our cookies, had the dog walking around inside. No rules here. They have a more advanced tour for spelunkers that is 35 Euros by reservation and would probably be worth it if you were into caves. We saw people way, way below walking around with headlights, probably eating and drinking with their dogs, on the tour. It was probably at least 500 feet below us.

Then we had to find someplace to eat, it was about 1:30 and there was a tiny town below with one open restaurant where the chef/cook/server/busboy/waiter took our order after about 30 minutes of his trying to cook a menu for the 15 or so Spaniards that had wondered into the place. It was no smoking, which was the only reason we continued to sit. As opposed to the Spaniards, we were only interested in some sandwiches. No such luck, so I ordered four crocque misseurs, got six, we ate and were happy. It only took about an hour. Then back to the hotel, finally. Of course, we took a wrong turn, went through the town of Carcassonne, David had to poop, we had to stop at the train station, etc… I went for a run, after washing my hands.

We had a very nice dinner at the hotel, which was very reasonable. The food here is very good, and reasonably priced, when compared to Barcelona. The people here are also nice, and very easy to deal with.

December 8, 2007. After a long breakfast, with fantastic French croissants, off we went for a drive in the country back to Spain. It was kind of dreary weather and we were on the narrowest country roads you can imagine, lost and on detours to try to find the other town we were told about, called LaGrasse. We found it, and went on our way not even stopping.

Anne and I observed that while France and Spain to a lesser extent really allow people to do what pleases them (e.g. want to walk on a wall with no handrail and a 20 foot drop — go ahead if you want to), they provide free (not very good) health care when the person falls off and requires hospitalization for a few months. On the other hand, in the US there is a barrier, warning sign, and guard to make sure you don’t get exposed to anything dangerous, but no health care at all unless you have money. Lawyers, I guess.

December 9, 2007. We went to the port this morning via bus, walked around, and were blown around like crazy. It was super busy with people and crowded everywhere. The winds were incredible, which means that the drive from France to Spain would have been worse today than yesterday, when the winds were plenty strong. Last night I got rid of the car (turned it into Hertz two days early) and noted how nice it is not to have one. Cars are a burden here.

Anne has made potato latkies and David and Joshua have made home-made menorahs so we can light candles and celebrate Hanukkah here. Photos to come.

We were giving the kids their third gift for Hanukkah and there was a racket outside in Turo Parc. We went downstairs and found a bunch of Chabad having a celebration in front of our house. Imagine, there were about 200 people, most just curious Spaniards looking for a place to smoke and enjoy being with lots of people. Then the Chabad people put on a film, in English, about their Rebbi which was hard to hear since everyone was talking. In fact, we ran into a friend, Isabel, and ended up chatting ourselves. Anyway we ended up watching the “lighting” of the Menorah outside with a few other Jews.

December 10, 2007. Studied Spanish, went for a run through the huge park next to Barcelona, Conserrola Parc, using a map to get back since I took a train well into the park to make it a point to point run (1:20 minutes). Then a lunch with another American who has lived here for four years and is a refugee from the Microsoft/Amazon world and finally to get David, drop him at soccer, then come and go and do business with Colorado.

December 11, 2007. Anne and I met for lunch at a wonderful restaurant, which was at some point in it’s history a meeting place for Picasso and his friends. It’s called “Les Quatre Gats” (I’ve hotlinked into their annoying website) which means the four cats in Catalan. Anyhow, we were disappointed since we fully expected to see Mr. Picasso but he wasn’t there, I guess. For 13 Euros we had an first course, a second course, desert, a glass of wine, a bottle of water and a wonderful almost tipsy conversation.

November 28, 2007. I studied Spanish this morning before going to my lesson. It’s a long process. When I got back, Anne and I went to lunch and then by the local cheese and ham store. We were looking around and the store is very high end (we ate there last week). It’s a special place where they only serve the very best of specialty foods and charge accordingly. I asked about the ham and they said they only carry Iberic ham; that’s one type of Jamon Serrano, the dry, cured stuff. It’s sliced very thin and vacuum packed and costs a fortune, so we bought some to try to see what the big deal is. Anyway, Iberic ham is only five percent of all Jamon Serrano in Spain and it’s free-range, feed only acorns (20 pounds a day!). Then there is a slow process of curing the stuff. The Iberic hams are raised in the south near Portugal and are black. The other 95 percent of pigs are white. Sort of a reverse prejudice. At Christmas there are all sorts of treats and gift baskets about, and you see a lot of these legs sticking out of them. Hey, look what Santa brought. Actually, they don’t have Santa, they have three kings. More on that later.

November 29, 2007. After our Spanish classes Anne and I met for lunch in a downtown eatery we thought we’d try. It was fancy and very old feeling, but not what we like in terms of local. The food was all right — it was Thursday, Piella Day. Anywho, we were on the metro coming back and I farted, silently, but it really stank up the entire place. Luckily, there was a fat guy sitting across from us, so I just looked at him, along with everyone else. I mean, of course the fat guy was the farter. Then Anne, knowing the sweet smell likely eminated from me, started laughing. It reminded us of a Saturday Night Live skit where Chris Farley is in a hot tub, bubbles rise up and of course everyone looks at him… you have to see it. It was funny.

November 30, 2007. David had a soccer game tonight and scored their only goal. Their team lost 3 to 1. It takes five to make a team and it appears there are only five of the 8 or 9 players who regularly show up for games. The other teams have up to 10 players so our team gets no rests. If you’re a glass half full guy, like me, the players get lots of playing time. Anywho, we got a ride home (it was a 45 minute bus ride in heavy traffic to get there) from one of the moms, who also gave the coach, Freddy, a ride. She is American and spoke amazing Spanish, which only took her 15 years, so there is hope. I found a hotel in France for us, near some ruins, and was told that, oh, by the way, there is construction in the hotel. Good news since we can’t seem to live without it.

December 1, 2007. Joshua had his seventh birthday party today. About ten kids came to our place and Anne organized some art projects that she learned about in Aspen. It was a challenge to deal with that many six-year-olds (they are all younger than Joshua with one exception because the cut off here follows calendar year, unlike the US, so kids are younger in their grades). In any case, they seemed to have a good time and Joshua was super excited to have a birthday party. He made a beach scene out of molding clay, including a non-smoking and smoking sections!

One of the mothers was very nice, but a very stressed German, whose kid was threatening to either throw himself or someone else down the nine floors from our balcony to the street. She, predictably, didn’t want the kid on the balcony and I assented. She was a bit stressed, though, and I felt like I was dealing with another kid i.e. a situation. She invited us to join her in her Chalet in Gstaad, which is tempting if she would promise not to be there at that time. Gstaad is a very chic destination and in fact, in the movie trading places, Dan Akroid tries to palm his Pateck Phillip watch, which tells time simultaneously in Paris, New York and “staad.” I didn’t tell her about the joke.

Our poor dog is such a mess with scabs on his neck and the side of his face, which he has scratched and made bloody. We bought him a lamp shade and now he’s all depressed.

December 2, 2007. Anne took the dog on a long walk today to try to cheer him up. I hung out with the kids who are perfectly happy not leaving the house. I guess that’s the way it is. When Anne got back I went on a long 1:45 run and ran a race course where they had a race today — that I considered doing but since I didn’t run all week as a result of my cold and it isn’t quit over, I gave it a miss. It was a course on dirt and looked pretty good. Then I planned our trip to France for next week (rented a car, mapped the route, tried to find some stuff to interest the kids…).

I’ve been thinking about the pricing here. Why are things so ridiculously expensive, sometimes twice what they cost in the US. One glaring example of commodities gone wild are running shoes. The same shoes that I get in the US cost twice what they cost stateside, sometimes more. Books are another thing that is much more expensive than in the US for the same book. I don’t think this is explained by duties; it’s a problem in the system since if it’s easy to open a business, then someone would have and underpriced the few stores that have the high prices. I’ll work on finding the answer but according to some quick research, books are free of duty and athletic shoes are subject to an 8 percent duty. Stay tuned.

December 3, 2007. Did you know that it’s polluted around here — really polluted? I didn’t but this morning’s newspaper made that clear. Listen, it’s nice here in a lot of ways — there is a way about this place that makes it a friendly city and certainly one that is beautiful and worth spending time in — but quality of life is another question.

Unless you are willing to really throw serious money at the issue, like who knows how much but let’s call it Russian mafia money, it’s not even close to what we have in Aspen. We have a lot of the European experience to experience, for both ourselves and the boys, but here’s what we know so far: learn Spanish, small check, get a European experience, check (it’s very much like and reminds me of Europe), bath like a European (small check since we can’t take long showers), frustrated with the ability (inability) to wash clothes (check), far too much traffic, check, critical mass of people check, other physical activities (check — running for long times).

The dog turned out not only to have fleas (nice) but also allergies to food and whatever else. I feel for the little critter; he’s miserable but has been diagnosed and will be better soon enough.

Another thing, our blog stats look terrible. We just seem to be uninteresting, unknown, or both. Here are the stats from the last months but they are going the wrong way. 92 visits two weeks ago, 52 visits last week, and zero this week. I’m not hurt, well that much, I mean, even Anne doesn’t read it!

December 4, 2007. I have a theory about the sexes here — by sexes I mean Men and Women. The women here are hard and the men are soft, almost like the traditional role of the sexes is reversed. I think that this may be the prevelant situation throughout Europe. I’ve developed my theory over the last few months but it seems clear that the women over 20 or 25 are very hard, and generally don’t seem that attrative. Anne told me they aren’t supposed to be attrative to me, but I’m not sure that she’s correct. I’m not saying I’m going to fool around, obviously I wouldn’t since I have Anne to fool around with; I’m just saying that you would expect women to want to be attractive; men too. I guess the men are attractive in a soft, unthreatening, mamma’s boy, cuddly way — I’m not being gay here. The women, however, seem to take some pride in having hard hairstyles, hard sunglasses, hard “perscription” glasses, hard boots, hard clothes and a hard, unattractive, almost agressive look and attitude. I guess they just boss their men around and it’s good with everyone.

We had considered staying for two years over the last few months and even went to the trouble of getting German passports into process. The idea would have been to go to Aspen over summer and return here for the next school year but we’ve nixed that idea. We don’t want to be away from home for that much time and don’t think that the additional year is worth it.

November 21, 2007. My sister Annette arrived this morning from New York (a direct flight). We right away tried to cover some of the touristic sites (check out our photos of what we discovered). We took full advantage of public transportation and a warm, humid day. In the evening I went to David’s practice and talked to a 70-year-old grandfather, Jose, of one of the players. We talked politics, wine, etc… and I understood about half.

November 22, 2007. My sister ended up trying to go for coffee this morning, something I have weaned myself from having realized that notwithstanding the fact that coffee is plentiful, being used to a large cup of American coffee somewhat has spoiled me and the espresso just doesn’t do the trick; neither does cafe con leche. Anywho, she ran out and found some; I went to a Spanish lesson and off went Annette (after coffee!!) to a bunch of museums. She actually got in for free by being associated with art in New York, which was a nice savings.

I ended up at a lunch with Anne and 16 women and one other man. It was the “booster club” lunch for Benjamin Franklin International School, which the boys attend. I had a nice conversation or two. Everyone here with kids in the school is here to get the kids acclimated with life in a big foreign city — they will be ready for a lot after this and will learn more than just a language (we hope) from the experience.

November 23, 2007. My sister, Anne and myself went to the Picasso museum this morning and gave Annette a tour of the Borne area of Barcelona and the Ramblas, which is touristy but a must-see. It similar to Aspen Highlands, but has critical mass. It also has a lot of people who pose as human statutes. I also took some photos of our walking around. Then when Joshua came home, he brought a note about lice at school, lice-nice.

Anywho, we’re cooking a Thanksgiving Day meal (a day late).

November 24, 2007. We all visited L’Ille, a shopping center a short walk from our place, that has a display put on by Switzerland to promote skiing. Everyone here talks about skiing, that’s for sure, but they seem to drive to the Pyrinees, if they go. The display was a sort of Mousetrap on a huge scale and the boys, predicably, were mesmerized. Annette then went off to Parc Guell and I went to get my race number for tomorrow morning by bike.

On the way out the elevator, some old lady decided to give me a hard time, as in “bikes have to go in the service elevator.” Both Annette and I looked at her like “up yours” so she thought we didn’t understand. We assured her we did. I am finding myself, at times, annoyed with things people do and have to stop and remember that it’s important to be tolerant and kind, not always easy but certainly worth it.

Annette came back with some great photos of Parc Guell and I returned with my race number, chip, etc…

November 25, 2007. I went to the 10K race this morning and unfortunately missed Kevin, who I was planning to run with. It was huge, or seemed so, and sort of disorganized. In any case, off we went at exactly 9:00 a.m. in cool conditions and I tried to hold back (this turned out to be easy since I couldn’t get through the crowds and ended up dodging and weaving just to keep a pace going). This was a super Catalan event; and there were a ton of very fast runners. Close to 400 people ran under 40 minutes, which is a fast 10K time.

I hit the half way at 21:07 and had planned to run in 42 minutes so picked it up a bit and made it exactly 42 minutes. I was pleased with a reverse split (faster second half) which isn’t my usual deal. There were no kilometer markings that I saw so pacing was a guess, plus the faster downhill was at the beginning when you couldn’t run fast. I expected the entire race to be uphill.

Annette and I went for coffee then she tried to complete her tour of Barcelona’s best architecture and museums. She’s taken a huge number of very good photos. She’s off tomorrow and we’ll miss her around.

November 26, 2007. Annette was off early, then I took the boys to their bus, then off to study Spanish. Then errands, errands, errands (haircut) and trying to fight off a cold that I seem to have (yesterday’s race didn’t help). Then David to Spanish practice and more feeling cold, with the cold and humidity, it’s a cold feeling — strangely, I’m the only one that wears a hat. Everyone else doesn’t want to mess up their hair, mine is now short so it doesn’t matter. I am really tempted to shave it or almost shave it. Here’s a photo of our local Starbucks — it has lots of boobage on the door “handles” that you have to “push”.

November 27, 2007. We lunched today with Amy and Dan and compared plans for the upcoming week-end, which is long (four days). They are off the Paris; we are thinking we should go to France by car and see some castles and towns that are within a few hours driving.

November 14, 2007. Went to Starbucks with Anne, then Anne went to Class. I went on a huge 1:40 run through the hills and dales. It was nice except I got home and consumed everything in sight. I took David to soccer practice and hung out with the Spanish soccer moms. They are not well traveled, and pretty nice and curious about my situation (are you single, want to fool around) no, no – I mean, why are you here? To learn Spanish – didn’t you know we speak Catalan? Anyway, it’s a good Spanish lesson, sort of. Anne is studying her head off, she’ll probably have it down by next week. I am taking my time. Here is a photo I caught of an affliction here in BCN.

For me, I’m at the point of the guy in this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cl8FTdjNri4

November 15, 2007. Off again to a different Starbucks this morning. I like to cross the street once in a while; I had to go there after Anne insisted we try a Spanish place which had lousy food, was loud and too crowded. We tried.

I’ve got a weight work-out I do with the minimum of stuff. It will keep me in shape, more or less. I am thinking of doing some running races since winter is traditionally the time I try to do them (cross-country skiing, uphilling). Since the only reasonable thing is running races, I did some research, read up on some Catalan websites and found a 10K running race in a couple of weeks.

The on-line race sign up in general is definitely not as smooth as in the US for the smallest race and this one had 2,800 participants last year. I also told my running friend Kevin about it. He tried to sign up but they wanted his NIE number – that’s the number you have if you are a citizen of an EC country like a social security number. Basically, it’s asked for frequently and you don’t really have to give it out. I just make up a number and give that one and it always works. In my mind it’s very Orwellian, and only the Germans might be organized enough to do something with it. As for the Germans, as long as you don’t mention the war, they don’t care either.

November 16, 2007. After a Spanish class this morning, I went to sign up for the running race and then took David to his soccer game. It’s gotten really cold here, about 40s or so. David scored the first goal and although they still lost, it was an exciting well-played game.

November 17, 2007. I have spent at least the last 24 hours trying to get this blog to work. It’s been a huge hassle and certainly would have been much easier to use an off-the-shelf program that is supported. Why did I do it the hard way? Good question. I guess the main reason is I want it to be on uhlfelder.com and second is password protection (which is probably available on the other sites). This is sure to burn some time just trying to get everything to work correctly. I’ve tried to post all the material from the time we got here until now on the blog. You can receive comments from others so it’s similar to a forum.

November 18, 2007. David had a birthday party to go to today and I went to the park, after getting some coffee at Starbucks (why can’t anyone make a decent filtered coffee in Spain?). Joshua needed to eat (it was lunch time) so I sent him upstairs since I had the dog who probably needed to do his duty. In any case, after watching him get humped by every Tom, Harry and Dick, I let him off the leash and off he went, never to be seen again. Some Jessica who had a young, hung dog who was one of the humpers talked to me in Spanish, which is nice and eventually we captured the little varmants in flagrante delicto, almost.

November 19, 2007. Class after coffee, more Spanish speaking (poorly), not having time to memorize the verb conjugations, etc… David to soccer, speaking Spanish (sort of) with soccer moms, cold, home, very good Indian food that Anne made, day’s end.

November 20, 2007. Anne has organized a language trade with Laura; we speak English for half an hour and she speaks Spanish for half an hour. She is very Catalan and told us something revealing about Spain — she would be embarrassed to have a Spanish flag on her property; a Catalan flag is fine. It makes me realize that there is no Spanish nationalism. This of course goes to the language issue too — they want their children to learn and be taught in Catalan, a language spoken only within 100 miles of Barcelona. This seems more than impractical, it seems a problem in terms of integrating a country. Lots of calls with Aspen, including business and personal. I sent out an email reminding both of you about this blog. Hope you saw it. Greg Shaffran completed his bike trip and came through in the middle of the night to pick up his bike case — we didn’t even see him since he had to immediately go to the airport to catch a flight back home. He biked through Spain and Morocco for almost two months!

November 7, 2007. I was at Spanish class, which is basically for me a discussion/conversation and was talking with my teacher. I noted that I am getting to the point where I may need to do something other than try to learn Spanish. Because there is no added value I can bring to the ski business in Spain, I might consider real estate. The market here is at that strange stand-off point where sellers won’t lower their prices and buyers won’t pay what sellers are asking, so nothing is moving. The US is about to have a recession and that will probably be world-wide. It could be an interesting time.

November 8, 2007. Anne and I went to Starbucks this morning, hung out. Then off she went to class and I somehow managed to kill the day without doing anything. I read the NY Times on line – it looks like the stock market is in free fall. I also had some annoying news from Carbondale and some good news from Aspen. So it goes. Anne and I went to parent teacher conferences in the afternoon where we confirmed that they are both smart; David is getting by with the least he can do, which we have to change. Sounds familiar.

November 9, 2007. I went to Spanish this morning and felt tired since I ended up staying up for some time last night to write a business letter. Then at my class I started to feel even worse and by the time I was home I realized I had some sort of virus, probably what Anne had. That made the rent of my day one watching Spanish TV and eating nothing. Anne went to David’s soccer game where they lost 12 to 0!

November 10, 2007. This morning I slept in to get rid of any remaining vestiges of the virus from yesterday. Anne took the dog on a run and talked with a Bolivian woman, she reported. She’s learning the language very quickly and accurately and said “it’s like a dream come true.” Oh yeah, also the boys … and you too. Went to the local market (Mercat in Catalan) and bought all sorts of stuff, meat, vegetables, etc… and ran into our friend Christina who helped us find an apartment. She introduced us to some of the sellers.

November 11, 2007. We went to see the departure of the Barcelona World Race today, a new two-man crewed race around the world on very high-tech vessels. Getting there we walked through some of the narrow alleys (Ah..the sweet smell of day-old urine) near the famous Ramblas area/street (very touristic and very full of pick pockets). There was a tent with nice displays for the boys of some of the technology and other basic information. The dog enjoyed himself too. It was super crowded in town, not any issue with lack of critical mass here as 200,000 people and 700 boats apparently showed up. Anne and I split up, Anne took the dog, I took the boys and we met back at the apartment after much public transportation. Also, here’s a photo of me with my first design project in Barcelona. I was told it looked shody. It’s all the contractor’s fault! I have the plans and specs to prove it.

November 12, 2007. I had a meeting with the lawyers again for our apartment. It was about our guarantee and the meeting had to be put off for weeks because of scheduling. The legal deal with apartments here is a complete joke. Of course, the bank made a mistake on the guarantee and it needs to be corrected. The apartment itself is definitely not nice enough for the amount we pay; I guess we feel like every renter. Then Anne and I met at Starbucks. David had a soccer practice and I brought him, then went for a run at night (not fun, got caught on the wrong road with cars and no light).

November 13, 2007. What is the deal with Nespresso? There are shops everywhere; one is a block from our Piso. George Clunny apparently imbibes the stuff because his photo is ubiquitous, sometimes covering entire buildings, showing his smiling all-knowing visage, holding a cup and apparently sitting on a suitcase containing millions of Euros.

Yesterday, while going to the lawyer’s office, I saw a line of people waiting at 10:00 a.m. for the Nespresso store to open. Apparently you buy these one-shot deals that you put into a machine that heats it, turns it to liquid, and produces the drug which then goes into your blood. I’ve heard of other drugs produced and delivered this way.

It seems easy to market to the Spanish since all you do is spend a ton of money on ads with famous American action stars or Penelope Cruz, and start a trend because everyone just loves to be the same – tattoos and piercings, cigarettes, “prescription” glasses, boots, etc.

Our little dog was bitten a week ago in the park when we had a dog-sitter and has now scratched the bites bloody. It’s a mess and we don’t know what to do. It’s on his neck so we wrapped a bandage on it, but he is trying to scratch it off. I think we should get a mean German Sheppard to protect him.

October 31, 2007. Halloween with all its ghosts and goblins was very much in evidence at Calle Josep Bertrand, 17, Atico 1 (our address) as one of the neighbors who has kids at David and Joshua’s school organized a neighborhood trick or treating. Since this apparently was the only organized trick or treat, and other Americans got wind of it, what was supposed to be 26 kids turned into 60 or so. I guess we’re now on the Cemetery Lane of Barcelona. Luckily David and I got home (Joshua didn’t go since he had a 24 hour virus he had just gotten over) just in time to utilize David’s booty and regift it. It’s a holiday in Spain (and Germany) called All Saints Day but is largely being overtaken by Holloween (blamed largely on TV and consumerism).

November 1, 2007. Off to London today, after a 1.5 hour run. On those runs I always find different routes and am starting to know all sorts of short-cuts. Today is a holiday called Day of the Dead in Germany where they go and hang out in cemeteries. Sounds like a blast.

In England, it’s a holiday called Guy Falkes Day the coming Saturday, which commemorates the attempt by Guy Fawkes, to carry out the Gunpowder Plot, to blow up the Houses of Parliament, kill King James I of England, and destroy Protestant rule on November 5, 1605. It’s basically considered an anti-Catholic holiday here and is celebrated with fireworks on the Saturday closest to November 5. Fawkes was caught, tortured (presumably waterboarded) and hanged. With that kind of history, how can it not be a fun holiday and it’s a real hoot here.

We had dinner with my friend Nick from London (bike trip Nick) who works in the insurance industry and afterwards the kids and Anne went home and the men went to the pub. It’s now a no-smoking deal in England, which is directly responsible for the decrease in cigarette consumption by 7.5 percent! The cigarette companies must be shitting themselves! Not only that, but Nick claims the pub business has increased putting an end to the argument about how it will decrease when cigarettes are outlawed. Lots of people were smoking outside.

I found my way home and Anne, speaking of shitting, was having a night of diarrea, perhaps caused by or at least catalyzed by the Indian cuisine we had just eaten.

November 2, 2007. I met Sam Rosen at the Gloucester Road tube station and brought him to our apartment where we all shot the bull. Sam is very easy to hang out with and makes a great and fun companion. We all went to the Royal Air Force museum where some 70 aircraft of all vintages are on display. It’s quite a complex, free as are all museums in London, but required an hour on the tube. The boys love to ride public transit so we got that out of the way.

We made an interim stop at Brent Cross shopping center suggested by Sam who went to pick up his son. We are, of course, now being tortured by especially poor exchange rates, so we went there but ended up coming back without even touring the place. It was really out in the country. One thing is clear, people here are either loaded or poor, because it’s expensive.

It’s very nice to be here since it’s similar to the US (language, eating habits, chain stores, no indoor smoking, much less outdoor smoking, some nice ethnic restaurants open at normal hours) and it’s just a break from Barcelona.

November 3, 2007. I went for a beautiful autumn run this morning in Hyde Park for about an hour. The perimeter plus some extra plus to and from the park was about an hour run. Then the family went to the London Eye, a big Ferris wheel that has the best views of London, this morning. It was not easy to get there since the Underground Circle Line was out of service. We finally gave up and took a taxi. I figured out how to stay out of the London Eye lines, which can take hours so we managed to keep the wait to 30 minutes, which is good.

After the London Eye, which only takes about a half an hour, we went to the Star Wars exhibit that was a bit too strategically located right next door. This was a rip off, but David and Joshua are so into Star Wars… Then back to the hotel, get our bags, and take the Underground to the airport to save a $100 plus cab fare (we were packed light and it was only one line to the airport). Then a much more comfortable flight and back home. London is incredibly expensive especially with the weak dollar. The weak dollar has hurt us everywhere, but the best policy is to try to ignore it.

November 4, 2007. We were all lazy and recovering from the trip and somewhat sick (Joshua and Anne with a cough and David with a slight cold). I went for a ride to try to find the train station in Sant Cogat, which took awhile; then I fell coming down from Tibidabo, very slow motion (I was taking it easy on a corner and hit an oil patch) and scratched my hip (road rash) and elbow. I am lucky with all the riding that this is the only fall in a few years; I try to take it easy and stay in control at all times. In any case, otherwise, a lazy day.

November 5, 2007. Not much to report. Both boys were so tired and not well they stayed home from school. I carefully read the Spanish newspaper to try to learn some Spanish. Unfortunately we have a construction over our heads which is a drag to say the least. Anne was at her Spanish class and I couldn’t wait to get out and walk around and finally brought my shirts that needed cleaning to what the porter suggested was the cheapest cleaner around and probably ended up being the most expensive. Henceforth, we will get the maid to start ironing which is cheaper! Ah, the trials and tribulations.

November 6, 2007. I’ve added a page to the website for visitor reviews of our great accommodations.

Week 10 — Cologne

October 24, 2007. Anne and I attended the Board Meeting of the kids’ school where we were presented with what was basically the precurser to a fund-raising request. Given it’s less than steller academics, the fact that we are essentially paying a premium, and that the education is inferior to their public school in Aspen, I’m not too impressed. I was impressed though by the individuals that make up the board — some pretty heavy hitters; although most seem unemployed like me. I was on my bike in order to move from one place to another, which makes things fast. I’m like a bike messenger (and see a few around here and there). Not too many other commuters on Colnagos. Then Spanish class for three hours.October 25, 2007. Spanish first thing this morning, then lunch with Amy and Dan. Since everyone likes to join clubs, I’ve decided to form the International House Alumni Club. The four of us are the inaugural members. This may seem redundant with the Barcelona Weekly Paella Eating Club (I found out that Thursday is Paella day so we sought some out). It was good, very rich though. I’m putting together my application for German citizenship and am off to Germany on Sunday for a Monday morning meeting, then will come back on Monday afternoon for a less than 24 hour trip to Cologne. I had to run to the FedEx contractor’s office at the airport, an hour plus taxi ride, to retrieve the documents they claimed to have tried to deliver (that seemed unlikely since both the Porter and Anne were in when they “tried”). That brings me to another facet of life here in Barcelona (and Spain), it’s very cumbersome to get things done. It takes a lot of time, documentation, and effort which would take about 1/3 of each in the US. It’s almost like the government’s effort to assure full employment for a litany of bureaucrats, lawyers, “notaries”, and more. The friction in this system is then added onto the attitude “it is what it is.” There are no easy work-around (in fact, there are no work-arounds) and everything is by the book. It is very frustrating for me!

October 26, 2007. Rocket’s first birthday was today. A great time was had by all, especially Rocket who needed some new toys as the old ones were worn out. He doesn’t treat them with great respect, biting them and so forth, but that’s a dog’s life. He is definitely Anne’s dog, and she takes him out at least three or four times a day to have play dates, which appear to occur spontaneously in Turo Parc in front of our apartment.

October 27, 2007. We tried to shop a bit today and found a great art supply store and book store not too far away. It also had toys so David got his birthday gift (Lego – no surprise). We also tried to find some soccer shoes for David that work for the hard surface “Campos” (playing fields) here. We ran into a friend, Victor, whose son also plays soccer, which proves that even Barcelona is a small town. I rode up to the top of Tibidabo then to another town off to the left about 12 kilometers away for a nice ride – it was around 60 degrees, no wind, cool on the downhills and nice for the uphills.

I’ve started to notice that Joshua’s Spanish pronunciation is perfect. If he gets the speaking part, he’ll speak with a Spanish accent.

October 28, 2007. We went to the Miro museum today, which was great. We already had tickets but mistakenly waited in line, thereby killing about a half an hour of time that probably could have been better spent in the museum. When we got home, we did some quick touch up of documents I need to go to Germany. Then off to Germany (I’m writing this from Cologne) on German Wings Airlines. Everyone lines up to get a seat (no preassigned seats) and then of course some people crowd the line. I was tempted to yell at them, but didn’t want security to drag me off for acting crazy. Everyone at airports are skittish enough, as we know. The lining up for seats reminded me of Southwest Airlines when I flew them well nigh 25 years ago. German Wings is like Southwest but without the love.

This airline, by far, has the least leg room of anything I’ve ever seen. It’s an absolute joke. My knees were hitting the seat in front of me and I’m 5’8”. As the large Spanish guy who sat next to me (in the middle seat) said, the seats are really close and the Germans are big people. Anyhow, they seem to deal with it.

Jahudi and his wife Iris picked me up from the airport. Jahudi and I talked well into the night like old friends, which was nice in a way. Don’t we all have just too few friends? Tomorrow I’m off to meet with the German bureaucrat to push for a German passport for myself and the boys (Anne apparently gets a resident card). We thought it would be nice to have an EC passport here.

October 29, 2007. I went to the office (picture below) where they give out German passports to people like me who, for reasons related to Nazi Germany, were denied German citizenship. I went with Stefanie who is employed by Jahudi, my friend. While I brought a suit with me, it was lucky that Jahudi convinced me to leave it and just weat some nice pants — everyone was dressed in blue jeans; so much for my image of overly formal Germans. Stephanie was extremely helpful, translating all the documents I produced plus getting approvals from the church of the translations. Then translating a one and a half hour meeting with Schultz, a very animated, seemly very caring bureaucrat who processes these applications.

Because I had filled out the forms truthfully, it caused a bit of a problem (having lived in Germany for a short time as a child) but one that can be overcome. In any case, he hoped he could provide the documents I need in order to obtain German passports within the next three months. In the meeting he had access to family documents including information on my grandparents and aunt.

The Cathedral in Cologne is pretty spectacular. They started building it in 1265 and finished sometime a few weeks ago, or so. It contains over 7,000 square meters of face time, which is big. It’s the main attraction of Cologne and a must see in my 20-hour trip so off I went with Stefanie, who was my translator. One window (well lots of windows were replaced recently (photo) and there is some controversy. After a nice heavy German lunch, Jahudi took me to his office for a few minutes before we went to the office. Jahudi has a number of things he does, including selling all sorts of potions and premiums. In fact, on the way out of his office, he asked me “How are your stools?” I said “what?” Jahudi: “You know, your stools?” I thought, wow do I look that constipated, or whatever. “Oh, fine,” I lied.

In any case, I’m writing this as I’m waiting in line (kind of) for the sure to be overcrowded and cramped flight back to Barcelona. [Later] I beat the system by lining up, crowding people out, running up the airplane stairs like I’m racing for the finish line on Aspen Mountain, and getting an exit row. Only to realize it was better equipment with more leg room (but only slightly).

October 30, 2007. The dog got his hairs pulled out and looks very nice. He also had his anal glands evacuated (nice information everyone should know) — apparently it was needed. I know the feeling. Joshua was sick with vomit and diarrea through the night so we didn’t sleep much and hopefully we’re off the England on Thursday.

Week 7-What Have We Done

October 3, 2007. The Swiss German Helmet left today to travel to Ecuador. He buttonholed me in the hallway to tell me that it’s important to preserve my wealth and it’s something he can do starting in May when is sabattical is over. He didn’t notice I was totally uninterested. The girls took the opportunity to shake his hand and he was so insistant on selling me his bank’s private services, he forgot to cop a feel/hug/kiss/embrace them. They quickly left.

I’ll miss him, mainly since the girls could laugh at him. We’re down to five now: Turgt, the sometimes stunning Turkish girl whose goal is to have children; Emma’ who is Swiss German and in addition to German speaks English and French and probably Italian and is quickly learning Spanish; Ellen, who is Swedish, generally hung over and gets plenty to eat but has a good attitude; and Yolanda who is also Swiss German, has dredlocks and is always playing with her mouth/lip ring (looks painful, problematic, soon to be infected) and hasn’t changed her outfit in at least two weeks. All the girls are between 18 and 20. The teacher, Maria, is probably 33. It looks like I am the oldest. There are few Americans in the school, which is fine, but everyone speaks English when they need a common spoken language.

Rocket is a young and certainly impressionable dog but we thought he would display more independence. He’s so social but obviously thinks taking up smoking is part of the gig.

Today is the first day since we’ve been here that it has rained in any meaningful sustained way. Seven weeks!

October 4, 2007. Lunch with our friends Dan and Amy is our chance to compare notes on the ins and outs of living here. They are a lot of fun and since they don’t read the website I can say anything about them — had they been reading, Dan would have mentioned the secret word to me. We’re thinking about trying to become German citizens, among other ideas.

Went for another long run today – close to two hours. The last 15 minutes was in a serious downpour so I got a shower and actually got dirtier.

October 5, 2007. I had a talk with my Spanish teacher who suggested strongly that I remain in the class I’m in. She’s probably right, but I’ve been in the same material for four weeks and can’t look at it again. I told her the choices were to put me in the next level or I’ll find another way to study Spanish. In retrospect, I should have just gone to another way to learn Spanish, namely private lessons, since they would cost about the same and I would learn more in a shorter amount of time. In any case, I ended up signing up for one more week at the International House of Languages (not Pancakes) and then will find a private teacher probably for less money. Anne is chucking along doing well mainly, I think, because she has so much Spanish background, while I have very little — I don’t think I ever took any Spanish; I took a semester of French in College and almost flunked and may have taken a German course. I took French in high school but not Spanish.

Otherwise, I went to the sports store about half a mile away and bought some cheap weights and a fitball so I can keep the guns in shape; I had to catch a cab since I couldn’t carry the weights back.

October 6, 2007. Today the family decided to go for a ride on the “Mont Juic Teleferic” which translates to Jewish Mountain Teleferic and crosses from the mountain over the port at probably about 1,000 feet. Joshua wanted to do it. So we make our way down to the general area, switched trains, and promptly got separated from Anne and Joshua when Anne said we were in the wrong train — I promptly got out with David but Anne and Joshua stayed on the train. So David and I waited until we figured that we wouldn’t find Anne and Joshua and had a nice (and long) walk together to get to the Teleferic. First we went the way the Anne and I decided to go, and stopped by the market at Las Rambles and bought some dried fruits.

We then tried to go the way planned with Anne, only to get into a part of the city that is not very kosher, filled with Arab men getting haircuts, large groups of very dark men arguing loudly and other things you generally wouldn’t want to live near. I promptly turned around and we walked over to the port end of the Teleferic, instead of the Jewish Mountain end, which took over an hour. Odd how in order to get to the Jewish Mountain, you have to go through the Arab gauntlet. When we did got to the entrance, David made the decision, and I agreed, it wasn’t worth the hour plus wait. We found a bus home, which was super easy and Anne and Joshua arrived home at the same time.

Anne took the dog out and it got a chance to play.

This afternoon Greg Shaffran arrived from Aspen to go on a seven-week bike trip through Spain and Portugal. Should be quit an adventure and he seems well prepared: a bike, a 90 pound trailer, the ability to speak Spanish. It should be a great time. He’s supposed to leave Sunday or Monday but has to buy white gas, which while widely available in the US is not in Barcelona. We went around to the sports store and a few others trying to find it without luck.

October 7, 2007. An easy Sunday, watching Greg toil to try to fix a bike that is not broken (but soon will be if he spents too much more time). Then off for a long run up to the hill and I saw there was a soccer game in the stadium. About 100,000 people were there so it was loud enough to hear miles away when there was a goal.

October 8, 2007. Greg, Anne and I went to the downtown area to school (for Anne and me) and for White Gas (for Greg for his camping/biking adventure). After bidding Greg adieu, we went to class only to discover (for me) that I was with the same teacher for a third week in a row. While she is very nice, I didn’t enjoy her teaching enough to endure another week (well four days since there is yet another holiday — remember, there will be no discount since there is no discount). Along with Emma, the smart and mature Swiss girl who also was faced with another short week of Maria, we went to the administration to complain and were placed in the only alternative for intermedio 1, which was Suzanna. After the day with her, I don’t think she is any better and is possibly worse. This is clearly my last week at this school. I think I was spoiled by my first two weeks when I had fantastic teachers. Oh well. Stay tuned.

In any case, Anne came to disturb me in class and let me know that we had to pick up the kids since their school had no water. So Anne and I and Dan and Amy went to BFIS to pick up children. We went home, took a break and then David was off to soccer (with me). We got there and I had a nice talk with one of the Spanish mothers on the field (they are very nice and will speak Spanish so I get free lessons and realize just how poor my spoken Spanish is) and she told me that the dark/black clouds over the mountain mean rain. About 15 minutes later, the sky opened and we had a tormenta. Into the locker rooms I went with about 10 Spanish mothers and I don’t have to tell you about the hanky panky that followed. Well,… we waited out the tempesta and arrived home to another wonderful homecooked meal by Anne! Ah, another day.

October 9, 2007. Today was a day of riding trains. First to school (for myself and Anne — by the way, I’m now at the lowest level I’ve achieved since coming here! — the latest is since I demoted myself), then back to get the dog, then to Sant Cugat, a suburb where Anne organized a language trade with a really nice Spanish woman named Laura (pronouced Lou (rhymes with how) ra (as in ra, ra, another day)), then to the lawyer’s office to deal with the apartment lease (don’t ask what a pain this is), then to retrieve my bike in Sitges (pronounced seat-gis) which took 40 plus minutes each way plus taxi, plus riding, then riding in the dark back to home.

Week 8 — Bargaining October 10, 2007. When you think of Spain, in the characature, you think of a place where payoffs are easy and it’s more or less third world where rules don’t apply. This is inaccurate. First, the place is fairly wealthy overall and there are plenty of middle-class folks around in addition to rich and poor. Second, the idea of payoffs, at least so far, is not something that has presented itself. As for rules, they apply but don’t seem widely enforced. The one problem is that the rules or laws are enforced very subjectively. Some friends of ours had their visa denied very capriciously and when they asked why, the reason was essentially “because”. I guess there are no rules.

After finishing another day in my retarded class (where I’ve voluntarily put myself, much like someone checking in voluntarily to the Betty Ford clinic), it’s an near total waste of my time now. Ninety percent of the time is spent listening to others make mistakes, one of which is a 60 plus year old American woman who speaks the same level of Spanish and has the same accent as Anne’s mother, i.e. None and American, respectively. I don’t know what to do next week because I don’t want to give up, so I’ll probably go for private lessons.

September 11, 2007. Tomorrow is a holiday, which apparently occur every two weeks, so no school (same fee though). It’s my last week at language school, probably. I’m sorry to go because it was fun in terms of the people. The learning part was not so good, at least for me. Maybe I should study – I know that would help. So I’ll try some private lessons. Then lunch with Dan and Amy, which wasn’t planned but happened when we saw them and the waitress told the couple in the next table to move over. That was nice (well, not for them). Then off for a run with Kevin H., who is taking a year off after leaving Microsoft. Like almost all the Americans here, we’re on sabbatical, whatever that is. Unfortunately for me, he’s a practiced runner getting ready for the Athens Marathon and of course we ended up pushing the pace, probably to faster than 8/min/mile for an hour twenty minutes plus with hills and fast flats. Anywho, when I recover after a week-end of massages, hot baths and physical therapy, we might do it again. Just kidding, but we are off to Girona tomorrow to see what gives up there. I’m bringing my bike since it’s famous for its riding. As for Girona, I know there are some baths, but they date from Roman times so I don’t know if they still operate. Girona is supposed to be very historic and we’re staying in the country to get a change of pace from city life.

I wrote a few lines on Girona for Spanish class:

Informacion para visitar Girona Hay dos partidos de Girona: el viejo and el nuevo (viejo pero no esta viejo como el viejo partido). El viejo Gerona es un des los más viejos cuidades en España. Lo tiene un barrio con stylos de architectura differente. Hay un Rambla al lado de rio con tiendas y restaurantes y edificios interesantes. El calle Via Forca estuvó el camino que punta a Roma. En El Barrio Call vivió los judíos, pero ellos partieron el año 1492. Hay un Museau Judios allí dondé podemos apprender esta historia. Tambien el catedral tiene muchos differentes stylos architecturas: Barroco, Gótico, Romámico y néoclassico. Es en el mismo sitio donde son los baños árabe.

Un restaurante possiblemente intereste is Boira, cerca del Rio. El ensalada de lechuga y Jamon, con almondes, y frutas como fresas y naranjos es muy bien. Si tenemos tiempo, podemos visitar el Costa Brava con muchas cuidades más bellas en el mundo.

Esperamos que nos tienen bastante tiempo para vamos a visitar El Museau Salvador Dalí en Figueres.

September 12, 2007. We are on Spanish time, it appears. We meant to leave relatively early to go to Girona but given the time required to rent a car at the train station (I got the car upgraded for free, and in Spanish), and our new late hours, we were on the road with everyone else in the crack-of-noon club. Also, I rented a crazy Citroen and of course, nothing is even close to what I’m used to so it took 20 minutes just to start the car. In any case, as a result of our late start an hour drive turned into a two-hour drive.

We got to Girona, which I wrote about already (see yesterday) and walked around on the town wall, which must be about a kilometer long (hey, I’m talking in kilometers, I’m so Euro). After walking around and looking at the buildings, trying to find evidence of the Jewish quarter or Lance Armstrong, we took off to find our hotel in the country. All week-end photos are here to avoid page clutter.

We arrived at the Moli del Mig Hotel and it was great. The receptionist/bell person/Internet Support helper/room service order taker/concierge was a super helpful doe-eyed tri-lingual English receptionist in painfully high heels, which probably helped aerate the grass. Everything we expected and more. Located out of the way but convenient to everything, it was a flour mill or some such from the 1800s and then was converted into a hotel and restaurant beautifully. We were sneaking Rocket in, so that made it a bit awkward, but the room was fantastic – super quiet, new, interesting and beautiful. It turns out that this area and the Costa Brava in general has a huge network of walking, mountain biking, hiking trails that are mapped, marked and very well done. The property is in the midst of tons of apple orchards, so its free eats for all.

September 13, 2007. Remember Peter Mayle. He was the guy who wrote “A Year in Provance.” It was a book about his adventures when he moved to Provence with a bag of money and wrote about how cute and charming it all was. You know, he needed an electrician to fix a lamp or something, it took two weeks to find someone, and then the guy took another six weeks to fix the lamp. All at a cost that was ten times the cost of a new lamp. Kind of like Aspen, but without the malicious intent.

Anyhow, if someone were to write that book today, all they have to do is live in one of the towns or generally in the area we saw today. Although the Catalans are definitely more efficient, the area is incredibly charming, quaint and the people are very nice and want to please. They don’t like to speak Spanish and the real Catalans, like some hotel guests we befriended, don’t speak it very well.

Using the car, we went first to Peratallada, then to Palau sator, then Pals and then to the beach at sa Riera. The first three were very old, incredibly well preserved, with super cute restaurants set into the stone walls and castle parts. Lots of really old stuff. It was like a movie set, but real, and with some anacronistic electrical lines added. The last town was the beach town, in a cove, not crowded.

That’s the difference between these towns and Provence. It was only after Peter Mayle published “A Year in Provence” that it got touristy and overcrowded. Our sense is that we are here in off season and in summer the place is basically a traffic jam. In any case, it sure beats the pants off other Europe beaches we’ve seen, especially Positano. The Costa Brava (“Wild Coast”) is pretty amazing and it’s not all ruined yet by English package tours and overbuilding, although some parts are not worth the visit.

After spending a few hours walking over ancient ruins, and checking out the beach, I took the car and Anne took the boys. I drove over to Banyoles so I could bike to Olot, about a 35 minute drive and a 30 kilometer bike ride (each way). I rode it in about 2:15 minutes; it is one of the rides that Lance Armstrong used for training so I thought I’d check it out. It was similar to Castle Creek but a bit longer, beautiful, lower altitude, steeper hills, rolling terrain, between larger towns, on narrower roads with some fabulous downhill turns – okay different. Anne and the boys used the pool (super cold and not heated) and the ping pong table.

September 14, 2007. We drove to the beach after checking out from the hotel and found a nice one, after finding some not so nice ones. The nice one was called Sant Marti d’Empuries and is just north of L’Escala. South of L’Escala is where all the “camping” (read Dutch people with trailers) is located and is not a great place. In any case, Sant Marti is next to an Archeological site/museum and is nice with a boardwalk that probably goes for miles. Then, an uneventful drive back to Barcelona that went very quickly (other than trying to find food) now that we’ve figured out that it’s easy to outsmart the Spanish drivers, just drive at between 2 and 4 in the afternoon when they are lunching, especially on Sunday. We saw some more of the coast and it’s varied between tacky and full of camp sites to beautiful and wild. One interesting note here, on the way back we saw three girls sitting on chairs on the side of the road dressed like they were at the beach trying to attract attention — I guess it was a full-service road — strange to see here in Spain on the secondary roads.

October 15, 2007. I returned the rental car this morning and it was such a hassle, next time I won’t bother “saving the time” and will just rent at the airport. It’s a lot faster and easier. Today I spent the time finally (I hope) getting the Aspen house leased. It’s a LOT less than when we started (thinking we could get $20,000/month and advised that we were correct by realtors), but it will help pay some bills.

October 16, 2007. Went to my first private Spanish “getting to know you” meeting and it seems to be fine. It’s actually cheaper than the school! I’m looking forward to learning and hopefully this teacher will motivate me. I’ll miss the social aspect of the school–the crazy and fun teenagers, their endless smiles, the all-consuming laughter, the smoking breaks, the drinking and late-night parties – all that. In their place, I’ll have a hopefully not too boring profesora that will possibly help me speak Spinach – a goal I have.