• Ayerbe, Los Mallos de Agüero, Riglos

    From Huesca, it’s an easy day trip to the northwest to several beatiful old towns perched in spectacular locations in what they call the Sierras here, right up against the Pyrenees. These towns get a fair amount of seasonal, mostly Spanish, visitors, but at this time of years, they were very quiet.

    We started with lunch in Ayerbe.

    We then headed to Agüero and hiked around Los Mallos (“the hammers”) – rock formations and landscape somewhat reminiscent of the American southwest.

    Our stalwart feminist attempts to decenter the phallus were challanged by more than a few of the formations.

    We also walked around the neighboring town of Riglos, which is built right up to its Mallos.

  • We’re spending a full week in the lovely town of Huesca. In a way, Huesca is a little like Utica, if Utica were spectacularly beautiful. It’s an old city, with lots of history. It’s near the mountains, but not in the mountains. An hour (or less) drive north, east, or south takes you to breathtakingly spectacular natural locations. And it is distinctly underrated. (OK, maybe that’s a disanalogy.)

    We’re going to save photos from our day trips for separate posts. Here, we introduce you to our town for the week.

    Huesca has a few notable churches, dating to Medieval times.

    Just wandering around the streets of Huesca is a lovely way to spend an afternoon. We of course went to the Aragon Pedalogical Museum which was mostly the history of K-12 schools in the region. They touched briefly on education under the Franco regime.

    It is a town of many bars. From 5ish onwards, the sidewalks are packed with people meeting at tables and drinking. We rarely seem to see people eating!

    Our apartment is lovely, especially the light-filled top floor with a balcony overlooking the cathedral.

    An update on Russell’s health: we were able to make an appointment with an ENT who did a thourough examination. He loved speaking with Russell, and even got his English-speaking daughter on the phone to make sure that we understood everything (HIPAA not in effect in Spain). The upshot is that there is no inflamation of the ears and that the problem is with the jaw muscles. He said that it was stress related and prescribed more sitting and drinking wine (actually a course of prednisone). We are hopeful that it will get better!

    Erev Yom Kippur, with tinto de verano verdadero, aun en botella plástico.

  • This is Russell writing. The words in this rant do not reflect the views or commitments of Emily.

    Before we left for Europe, someone wished us a good vacation. I appreciated the sentiment, but we’re not on vacation. I’m working during this trip, and so far I’m really enjoying the writing and being sufficiently productive, despite my health challenges (which, by the way, are still frustratingly present – my right ear still feels fully clogged and I’m consequently a little out of it, but maybe it’s getting a little better now. We’re trying to be patient. Emily is 95% better from her cold, the one I gave her.)

    Anyway, back to the rant. In Paris and Barcelona, the sights were packed with tourists and their cell phones, crowding forward to grab pictures. There are beautiful images of all of the subjects of all of those photos on line, better than the ones that they are taking. But they seem to be on a quest to collect the images, to gather them, to own them. I’m not the kind of guy who rants about neoliberalism or late stage capitalism, but it does look to me as if there is a clamor to acquire among all of these tourists, to check a box on their lists of life’s goals, at the cost of experience. They don’t seem particularly reflective or appreciative of the places they are. They want to acquire some patina of the famous objects and take cute selfies to post on TikTok or whatever. And they’re all in my way!

    Emily and I are not on vacation, and we’re not (usually) tourists. We’re traveling. I’m writing. We’re exploring the areas we’re in. We’re shopping in markets and cooking meals. We’re looking for one fun thing to do each day. We’re not checking boxes or trying to see everything. We’re trying to get a feel for the places we visit, not acquire them for ourselves.

    Got it?

    So, after we left Barcelona, we drove hours out of our way just so we could visit Andorra for lunch and add it to our list of countries visited.

    Russell’s hypocrisy aside, Andorra is gorgeous, nestled into a notch in the Pyrennes, with steep beautiful mountain faces all around. We had a breezy lunch at a restaurant on a plaza, walked around for maybe 45 minutes, and then got into our car and went back to Spain.

    On the drive back to Spain, we spoke with Marina who was settling into her apartment after a busy orientation in Bucharest. We were happy to hear that she had good vibes about the city of Craiova where she will be until next summer. Izzy has been enjoying a weekend in Berlin with friends.

    By the time we arrived at our new residence in Huesca, we were exhausted. The city did not appear inviting to us at first, as we fumbled our way around, trying to find the apartment and then trying to find a place for our car, driving in circles on tiny alleys, frustrated and tired. And then we got settled, and got some food, and suddenly the place looks beautiful. We were in desperate need of some rest, and so took most of Sunday easy, though we were able to take a couple of lovely walks around this beautiful medieval town. We’re staying right next to the cathedral with a private roof-top patio looking straight at it. We’ll be here for a week, at a slower pace than the past couple. We’ll have pictures and another update in a day or two.

  • The title of this blog post is not a reference to the Whit Stillman films that Emily can’t stand.

    We started off the day with a house call from a doctor, who diagnosed Russell’s ear inflamation and was able to give him some prescriptions that we hope will clear his head. After that, we headed to the market hall near us (Mercat de Sant Josep de la Boqueria) where we picked up some sandwiches and provisions. It was very busy, packed with tourists seeking lunch and selfies (well, so were we), so we didn’t linger long. We took the funicular up Montjuïc – our kids know we can never resist a funicular, and yes, that does translate to Jew Hill. We wandered around the Fundació Joan Miró which was interesting, although much of the collection was out of view while they were preparing for a major new exhibit.

    It is hard to convey just how small the apartment is. There is one apartment per floor, and the elevators open right into the room. We were puzzled even where to put our luggage until Emily figured out that we can stuff our suitcases under the bed if we just lift the bed slightly. The location was delightful.

    In the evening we walked down to the water at Barceloneta. There were still ongoing celebrations for La Mercè festival.

    Finally, we had a lovely dinner with old friends Peter and Amanda (Ilene had figured out we’d be in Barcelona at the same time) at Petit Comitè, a modern Catalan restaurant.

    (Russell apologizes for the poor quality of the one photo we have of the four of us.)

    We adored Barcelona, and were able to enjoy the city while taking time to rest and recover.

  • On Thursday, we commenced with our regular plan: Emily walking while Russell writes. Emily traversed the neighborhood. Russell worked in the library at a local university: not beautiful but perfectly pleasant.

    Russell was delighted to make some good progress. We reconvened for lunch and then headed to the local Picasso museum. The museum has a pleasant, limited collection, with selections largely from his earlier work.

    In the evening, we visited the amazing Basílica de la Sagrada Família, for which Gaudi was chief architect starting in 1883. It’s almost complete! We were able to visit the Passion Tower, ascending 260 feet above the city, with beautiful sunset views around the city. We loved how Gaudi was able to integrate his colorful whimsy into the holy structure.

  • Finally ditching those pesky kids On Tuesday, with mixed emotions, Emily and Russell took a fast train to Barcelona.

    Still not feeling great, we did not much more than have lunch, relax, and have a Barcelona-style late dinner.

    Our residence is a cozy shoebox in the Born, a pleasant if touristy neighborhood in an old (like medieval old) part of town, right by the water: narrow winding streets with lots of bars and cafes. Because Russell’s congestion seemed to rebound, he saw a doctor and got some antibiotics while Emily continues to cough and sneeze. Still, the beautiful city and the comfort of sort of speaking the language, kept our spirits up.

    On Wednesday, we headed to Park Güell. It was originally designed by Antoni Gaudí in collaboration with his benefactor Eusebi Güell as a kind of modernist upscale community with sixty triangular plots for wealthy families in booming Barcelona. Gaudi moved in, but only two plots were purchased and eventually the whole thing was donated to the city. It’s amazing.

    In the afternoon, on the way home from Park Güell, we ran into massive crowds celebrating a Barcelonan holiday, La Mercè. We could not get close enough to get good pictures, but we did get close enough to be redirected by many street closures. We found the old Jewish quarter near our residence, with a few medieval ruins and a small local museum.

    We were pretty tired after that, so we went back to our residence for siesta. That revived us enough for Russell finally to get back to writing, making good, cheering progress.

    Finally, in the evening, we traveled a bit north to a restaurant on the beach, Can Fisher, with well-reviewed, yummy paella. On the walk home, we were treated to fireworks for the festival.

    Despite the health challenges, we are loving Barcelona.

  • Monday morning, erev Rosh Hashana, Emily, Russell, and Marina took a cab to the bus station in Saint- Denis. From there, with mixed emotions all around (but mostly excitement), Marina took a shuttle to Aéroport Paris-Beauvais, where she got a flight to Romania to start her year, at last, as a Fulbright-funded instructor at the University of Craiova.

    After watching the shuttle drive away, we made our way to the Marais, where the streets were packed with folks like us preparing for the holiday.

    We enjoyed hearing “Shana tovah”s peppering the French, which Russell especially cannot parse. We were able to get round challot for the new year, shabbat candles, apple pastries (pomme polonaise), and matzoh ball soup, too! Plus apples and honey, of course. In a strange kitchen, including an inscrutable induction stovetop, we didn’t want to do too much cooking, though we were able to roast a butternut squash.

    In the afternoon, Russell finally got to see Izzy’s home school, Reid Hall. He was to start classes at the Sorbonne Nouvelle the next morning, Tuesday.

    In the evening, our cousin Kate and her boyfriend Austyn joined us for erev Rosh Hashana dinner at our residence, bringing yummy French gefilte fish (light as air!) and more challah and pastries and pickles, plus the warmth of family. We had a truly delightful evening together.

    At the end of the night, we said goodbye to Izzy, generating more mixed emotions. It is a delight to see him make so much progress toward his long-standing goal of French fluency. Emily and Russell are constantly impressed by our children. They must have great parents.

    In the morning, we head to Barcelona, leaving our lovely French apartment, with its nicely recognizable door, behind.

  • Before we start this post, a note about interacting with our site: If you click on the title of any blog post and then scroll to the bottom, you should be able (if you so wish!) to leave comments.

    In the last two days, we have been saying goodbye to the kids, and attending as much as possible to enjoying our time with them.

    Our apartment is proximate to at least two excellent bakeries (for croissants, baguettes, and coffees in the morning) and a decent supermarket. We did not, perhaps disappointingly, visit the local landmark or any of the many, many sex shops around us.

    On Saturday, Emily and I had a quiet morning while Izzy took Marina to his climbing gym.

    In the early afternoon, we walked around a bit and had a satisfying and rejuvenating lunch at a Chinese restaurant, where we all ordered basicaly the same thing.

    On Saturday night, Izzy’s host parents, Stéphane and Agnès, hosted us for a gracious, sumptuous dinner and delightful conversation. He is in great hands and we are grateful.

    We heard that things were going well at home. Miriam took Luna for a walk with Cuffy (and Ann).

    On Sunday, as Russell continued to recover and Emily started to sniffle, we spent the afternoon at the Louvre.

    When the kids were young, Emily and Russell had to cajole them to spend time in museums. Now, they have more stamina than we do. We all saw a lot that we loved. Marina was especially taken with John Martin’s Pandemonium (1841), depicting a scene from Paradise Lost.

    We all made the obligatory stop in the room with the Mona Lisa, though the hordes of folks with cellphones trying to get their own photo debar any serious time with it, or with many of the other well-known pieces. Still, Russell’s Television (the band) obsession made some time with the Venus de Milo obligatory.

    One lovely surprise was Franz Hals’ famous Portret van René Descartes.

    After the museum, Izzy went home to get some work done in preparation for the week. Emily had declared the day “crepes or die.” We chose life.

    After some rest, we had a proper last meal as a family of four. Marina smartly figured out that we could order a charcuterie off menu.

    Our time together as a family of four in France was coming to an end. There were smiles and tears and crème brûlée as Marina prepared to head to Romania in the morning.

    A blessed way to end the year

  • In our first day in Paris, Emily, Marina, and Izzy roamed while Russell tried to recuperate. We walked around Île de la Cité but didn’t go into Notre-Dame (it was really hot, and the line was long!). We then wandered to the Luxembourg Gardens, where there was a podium for some reason no one understood.

    Here’s Reid Hall, where the Wesleyan program is based and Izzy is taking half of his classes. The other half will be at the Sorbonne Nouvelle.

    In the evening, Russell felt well enough to join the gang for a lovely dinner at Lou Cantou.

    After dinner, we checked out the sparkle…

  • The city of lights and intimidation. Thursday was a travel day.

    We had an early flight and were both sad to leave Iceland and excited for the next step of our adventure, even though it brings us closer to saying goodbye (for a month) to Marina. The flight to CDG was a bit over three hours and everything went well logistically until we got to France, though Russell’s cold includes congestion and the consequent pain from pressure changes. The heralded transit strike in Paris was no problem; we just took a cab. The main problem was with our phones. We have an international plan that allows us access to data wherever we will travel, but it did not work smoothly in France as it had in Iceland. We had access to phone and text, but we could not contact our B&B host to arrange for arrival because we had their contact info only on a website. So we spent an anxious hour-long cab ride on the phone with Verizon. They were pleasant and accommodating and able to fix Russell’s phone and Marina’s.

    Check out who we found when we arrived at the residence.

    We had a bit of trouble paying for the cab, but this French-fluent boy was able to make it all work! And when we finally were able to contact our host and she arrived, he again was able to communicate fluidly with her.

    Russell took another evening of rest (and more Verizon conversations) while Marina, Izzy, and Emily went to dinner. and brought Russell some food afterwards. Then, Russell and Emily went to sleep and Marina and Izzy went out.

    As we type, it’s Friday morning. Marina’s sleeping in. Emily bravely went out for coffee and other supplies. Russell’s feeling much better and hopes that one quiet day will revive him completely. And, it’s time for Russell to start writing, anyway – a silver lining.