España (or A Tale of Pat's Glorious Beard)

A view of the surrounding mountains from Ronda

We had a few hours sitting in an airport lounge on the way to Edinburgh and took the opportunity to finally update our blog! Here goes: A brief summary of our visit to Spain or alternatively, a detail on Pat’s beard over the course of a few weeks.

Back when we were working at the lodge in Costa Rica, we made a friend from Sevilla named José. José previously owned a high-end racing bicycle store in Spain before deciding to leave work and travel for six months. We shared a lot of common interests, from outdoor adventure sports to quoting Point Break (if you’re curious “La Gran Cabolgada” is the way “The Last Ride” is translated in the Spanish version of Point Break). We kept in touch with José as we traveled and when he returned to Spain from Costa Rica he invited us to visit his home and stay with him. We took him up on the offer and flew from Rome to Sevilla in early May. Getting a chance to stay with a friend after being tourists in Italy for a few weeks felt like such a relief. José, his roommate José Maria, and their two pups (Moca and Furia) were incredibly welcoming hosts. José went out of his way to show us around Sevilla and introduced us to his family and friends (who all generously invited us for delicious dinners). During our first weekend in Sevilla, we joined in on a trip to Ronda, a small town built right into the mountainside that was host to a famous 100 km cycle and running race that Jose would be taking part in. We stayed until the evening watching cyclists pass through the city and even witnessed the cheering crowd as the first runner crossed the finish line (after only 8 hours). Though we didn’t stay the night, Jose told us that the surrounding mountainside would be dotted with bouncing headlamps as runners continued all through the night to finish their 100 km journey in less than 24 hours.

Sevilla was incredibly warm, colorful, and clean. We spent hours enjoying the beautiful parks like the Plaza de España that were constructed as part of the Ibero-American exposition of 1929. We enjoyed people watching, particularly the tourists that rented row boats with awful ores to paddle around the canal that encircled the Plaza. We drank cervecitas during hot afternoons and in the evenings drank Tinto de Verano on the patios of Jose’s parents and siblings homes. Within just a few days of arriving in Sevilla we found ourselves awake late into the evening, eating dinner at ten at the earliest some nights as the sun was just barely beginning to set. Kids would play in the streets well past nine at night as the approaching hot summer days would make it impossible for anyone to leave the house before seven in the evening. We collected recipes, like those for sumptuous tomatoes soaked in olive oil, fresh fish, and bocadillas.

During our final week in Spain, we said goodbye to José and once again became tourists, making a few stops in some well known places. We ate churros con chocolate in Madrid, stood in awe of the magnificent Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, and even tasting homemade delicacies made by nuns in Toledo. We marveled at the similarities to our lives back in the United States while also appreciated the differences we encountered along the way. We spent less than three weeks in Spain but something about it felt like home.