On: Spain, as Seen by My Cellphone

Didn't America's Next Top Model do this for an episode?

The view from our hostel. Aah, Europe! 

Breakfast on our second day in Madrid - so simple but so delicious. I remember wanting to return here for dinner.
The waitress was a woman in her 30's with untamed curly hair and a body most American women would die for.  She was elegant and casually sensual in a tank top, khakis and flip-flops.

A treasure trove.

The Lichtenstein at The Reina Sofia

Hot chocolate & a croissant. A perfect breakfast. Mom had tea.

The view from the chocolateria.

Yummm.

Segovia. View from the Tower of John the 2nd. We climbed 172 narrow, winding, stone stairs for this jaw-dropping panorama that literally took our breath away from the exertion.

Granada. Mom made an amazing dish from lentils, potatoes and carrots and the spices at the hostel.
We enjoyed it with a local rose wine. It was the only real, complete meal of our trip.

Granada. Our hostel being in The Arab Quarter gave us this stupefying view of The Alhambra.

Logrono. 

Logrono. The cathedral.

Logrono. The same cathedral.

Sweaterz 

Logrono. A fantastic, massive mural.

Logrono. These mannequins looked so sharp - I'm copying this look for fall/winter!

Bilbao. The Guggenheim.

fin.

On: Spain, the Great Cost of Travel, Growing Pains and Letting Go. Part Two

Verdant. Lush. Unbelievable.

Bear with me.

When I arrived at the entrance to The Alhambra, instead of a sweeping vista of ancient walls, palaces and gardens, I was greeted with a wide parking area adjoining a group of buildings that could have been an entrance to a zoo, an amusement park, anything.

My obsessive research from The States pointed to that there would be no tickets, it being early September, but I just strolled up to a machine and, suddenly, we had an hour to kill before being allowed in. So mom and I wandered around the parking lots, past cars and tour buses, around long lines of tourists, to an area further back, and shaded from a heat that was not oppressive, but aggressive - it actually felt like the heat was pulling moisture out of me.

We sat on a concrete block that formed the side of a large area of earth filled with a colorful variety of plants that would be expected in such a climate, under a tree that sprouted not from this bed, but from the ground just a few inches outside of it. We proceeded to make lunch, which was an odd amalgam of leftovers from the past few days. We had sandwiches, with cheese and milk and some fresh fruit, and I had some sausage. We then sat and talked, made room for a noisy family with a few children also having lunch, drank water and then made our way back to the entrance, to stand in line before entering the palaces & gardens. 

The Partal Palace

That hour, of us sitting, talking, eating, waiting - it is the best memory I have from that trip. It was so simple, so effortless. Over all the years that have brought us here, my mother and I have shared so much, have come so far, that we've accumulated a lot of, well, baggage, if you will. This shared history translates into an invisible weight that sometimes can't help but get in the way from time to time. And so we struggle and argue, over stupid things, over ego and over emotions. And although that's just me talking, right then and there, it was beyond wonderful to just be. While I can't speak for my mother, I felt an ease and a calm that was so complete and so thorough that it left an impression I still feel today, months after. 

And, of course, afterwards, we two spent most of the day seeing one of the highest, finest, most spectacular and complete accomplishments of human art and engineering on the continent. And it changed my life.

On: Spain, the Importance of Travel and the Finding of Purpose in Changing. Part One

Mom & I in Madrid

Last month, my mother and I spent two weeks in Spain. We spent a few days seeing sights in Madrid, then visited Toledo, Segovia, Cordova and it's Grand Mosque, Granada and The Alhambra and I managed to see Bilbao & its Guggenheim, before returning to The States.

Of course, the trip was amazing. The rich culture, the amazing history & sights, the language, the food, the absurdly good looking men, they all combined into an unbelievable, humbling experience that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And being able to see and share it all with my mom added an entire level of awe to these experiences. We met in Madrid and spent most of the trip together, exploring, getting lost, squabbling, but still enjoying every minute together. My obsessive research was often crucial and my mother's simple charm was just as useful as we navigated transit, winding medieval streets and foreign customs.

But, after two weeks, I was anxious to get back to Chicago, to this amazing, magical city I call home. I was anxious and, this is an aside, but I felt like I was was living the scene in "Inception" where the dream-people started to turn against you - suddenly everyone around me was always angry and those last few days alone while my mom began her linguistic conference in Logrono became a surreal experience.

Almost getting stuck in Bilbao was worth this view.

But. I came back, and although everything was exactly as I left it - right away, it also felt completely different. Within hours of being back at work, I felt itchy and uneasy. It may have been the remnants of jetlag at first, but the sensation continued the next day and for several days after my return. It was an acute sort of uncomfort, where my limbs felt lanky and odd, and every thought was incomplete - in a way, there suddenly appeared massive gaps between the shell that is my body and whatever it is that occupies that shell. In those days, my body was an outfit two sizes two big.

By the week's end, the sensation has dissipated, but a change has come. Now, weeks later my routine and situation is largely the same, I have the same job and friends and yet I feel and AM different. It is inexplicable, and I am in no rush to quantify the change. It is a new road that has showed itself to me and is tempting me. It is not an easy road, but it is paved with fulfillment and self-realization.

So this is a beginning. I will write more when more becomes clear. But now: courage, ambition and hard work.