Viva España

Pueblo español, Barcelona
June 2007

So I used hand soap for lotion for two weeks before I figured out why it went on so strangely, and I ordered a plate of fried smelt (a whole school of it) instead of sole, and I confused many a waiter with all my questions about whether their food contained any frutas secas...(Kid. Nut allergy. They didn't get it. Crazy American.)

It was still an amazing trip, though my Catalan really needs some work.

My family and I, and three dear friends, were in north eastern Spain -- Catalunya and Barcelona -- for two weeks. We spent time in tiny villages, at breath-taking beaches, at colorful outdoor markets and in the plazas of Barcelona. (And um, no...it wasn't paid for by Pollito millions. We're still waiting for that day.)

We are full-up on Serrano ham, Manchego cheese and more Catalan flan than anyone should be allowed. Maria was an A-plus traveler and turned into a true española, declaring it way too early for bed anytime before 11 p.m. and doing her best Sardana on cobbled streets and busy plazas. She picked up some additional Spanish and got really good at saying "Yo quiero helado!'' Figures, no?

Pictures and stories to come...after I get through the mountain of laundry and piles of mail, both paper and electronic.

While I do admit to sipping my cava and dreaming of burning my passport, it's good to be home.