Biert - French Pyrenees

While we were in Paris visiting Monica and Olivier (and seeing the Tour de France), they mentioned that they were going the following weekend to the Pyrenees to get their kids who were with the grandparents. From there, Olivier and the boys were going camping for a few days then they'd all spend time in Spain. Monica's not big on camping so it'd help them if she could go back to Barcelona with us to wait for the guys.

Diana's talked about Olivier's parents before and especially how I needed to meet his dad who's a big wine fan. Monica and Olivier invited us to meet them and, with Diana's brother in town, Monica needing a ride, having no real plans, and, of course, the promise of some great French wine, how could we say no? I reserved a car as soon as we got back to Barcelona.

During the week, I continued to check for cheaper car rentals and found one on Thursday night, which I booked immediately canceling the original reservation. I went to the rental place Friday afternoon but, when I got there, the agent asked me like three times for my name. I finally just gave her my identification but she couldn't find the reservation. Pulling up the email my heart sank when I realized that I had booked the new reservation with the website-default date a couple of months later. Argh!

The agent's reservation computer wasn't working so she needed me to book a car using my phone but the system showed nothing available. Panicking, I was finally able to find a car at another agency and went to get the car all the while Diana and her brother were waiting for me at home. Our original plan was to leave about 6 p.m. so that we could arrive around 10.30 p.m. We ended up leaving at 8.00 p.m. meaning we'd get to their folks house around 1 a.m. Oh well, no big deal. At least we were on our way.

The house is basically a farm house kinda' like Diana's parents' in Chiquinquira, which meant that finding it at 1.30 in the morning proved to be a challenge. A couple of U-turns at various houses (and waking up one poor family), we had finally arrived and headed straight to bed. It wasn't until the next morning when I went outside that I realized just how rural the "neighborhood" was. That's their house on the right:

After proper introductions all around, Oliver's mom made us breakfast Saturday morning. She included an assortment of breads she had bought at a shop in town along with some different homemade jams and the craziest rock-salt butter. It's exactly like it sounds, butter with big, crunchy rock salt throughout. Apparently, every family uses it. I. Was. Hooked. You know when you're making chocolate-chip cookies and you've mixed the brown sugar, white sugar, butter, and vanilla how you just can't resist sneaking a little of the mix before adding the eggs? Yeah, it's that good.

To work off the buttery goodness, we went for a nice looooong walk...

...all the while enjoying the scenery:

My only experience with the French side of the Pyrenees was a quick stop just across the Spanish border with Juan and Carol a couple of years ago. Biert, which is the closest town to their house, is basically a village a bit more than an hour or so past Andorra. In quite a few ways, the "tri-country" Pyrenees feels a bit like the mountains inland from San Diego and Los Angeles; good views, clean air, fairly dry, nearby snowboarding/skiing, and a good place for a weekend away. In the case of this trip, there's one major addition...French wine!

After our walk, it was time for food...again! This time the meal was a team effort with everyone helping out in some way. Olivier's dad lived up to his reputation by opening bottle after bottle of the good stuff. And, in classic French style, dessert was another bottle of wine and a big spread of cheeses from a local cheese shop.

Olivier's dad giving Diana and me an overview of the yumminess yet to come:

All of this relaxation and gluttony got the best of me and I crashed for the next hour or two. Diana woke me and said Olivier's sister would take us into to town so we could buy cheese at the shop where our dessert was from. Biert has all the requisite sites, a church, some cafes, a plaza, and a bunch of family-style shops including where we bought cheese:

Later that evening, it was even more wine, snacks, and conversation. I've mentioned this in other posts but I love, love, love hanging out talking story with groups with such diverse backgrounds and experiences.

A big thanks to Olivier's family for hosting us. You've all got a place to stay whenever you're in Barcelona. Hope to see you all again soon!

The drive home from France involved much less mystery but I think the key was that Monica was guiding. As a bonus, and consistent with our seize-the-moment planning, we even did a quick detour at Montserrat on the way home.

Tour de France In Paris!

Back when I lived in California, I watched the Tour de France every year. Often, I'd Tivo it (remember that?) and catch the highlights at like 3x speed. It's always been on that loose list of things I'd like to see in person one day.

Well sometime in late June, our friends in Paris said their kids would be with their grandparents and that we should come for a visit. When I noticed the dates coincided with the last day of the the Tour and, oh, that Diana's brother would be in town, I blurted out to Diana that we HAD TO GO! It took me about twenty seconds to buy airplane tickets once Diana confirmed with her brother that he was interested.

I decided that this would finally be the trip where I'd pack super light and actually use every single item in my bag. In the photo below you'll find every item (except my flipflops) that I'd have with me. One pair of shorts (that I wore on the plane), a plain T-shirt and undies for each day, my toiletries, camera charger (why can't I charge my camera with a my phone charger?), my lifeguard hat, and my backpack. That's it, super lightweight and I even had space for the jamon Iberico I picked up for our hosts!

Monica met us at the bus station and we headed into central Paris to walk around for the afternoon. Here we are about five minutes after arrival in front of Notre Dame:

Our first day in town was spent seeing the city center as Diana's brother, visiting from Colombia, had never been to France. We walked through the Marais (the Jewish quarter), had lunch in the Sorbonne (the Latin quarter), and then went to visit the Louvre, which is something I've never done.

First off, if you've never been there, it's MASSIVE! So big that I have no idea how actually big it really is. The plan was to stay for a few hours and see some of the important works like the (copy of the) statue of David and, of course, the Mona Lisa.

We passed by these two sculptures on the way into one of the museum's wings. They're sort of like before and after images. On the left, you can see the guy's holding (what looks like) a bottle of wine up to his head probably thinking to himself I probably should stop now and not drink the whole thing then, on the right, you see the same post-full-bottle guy pawing some chick and biting one of her nipples while she seems to be thinking oh great he's drunk again. I'm sure the artist intended some lesson here.

I had heard that the Mona Lisa was a bit of a let-down from more than one person so I didn't expect much. I figured that it'd be super crowded with selfie-taking masses and, on this, I wasn't disappointed. It was way better than I had expected and it was great to see something that's such a part of world culture. Oh, and about those other paintings in the room with the Mona Lisa? They could have been the most amazing works of art but, like the not-to-be-missed Casa Amatller next door to the Casa Batllo in Barcelona, they get NO love at all.

Apparently, in the entire Louvre, there are no (working) fountains. It was getting to the point where I would have drank from a random bottle in a trash can. The only choices you have are to pack in your own water, go all the way back to one of the shops in the lobby and pay like five euros per tiny bottle, or do what I ended up doing which was to drink from the faucet in one of the bathrooms. I get that this is a total first-world problem but, really, no water anywhere. So, take heed weary Louvre visitor, pack in water. It's a loooong journey through the desert!

Other than the Louvre desert, Paris really is one of the all-time-best cities. I'm not sure how it'd be to live there as I'd imagine, like London or San Francisco, it's best if you're a millionaire but some things you encounter really are very cool. On our way to meet up for dinner, we saw this orchestra playing in one of the metro stations. Talk about impressive public art/performances:

Another only-in-Paris item we saw was this public fountain located along one of the river walkways. Public fountains usually don't get much attention (although it'd be nice to have one in a certain museum) but this one offered not only 'regular' water but also sparkling water! At a public fountain on the street! Love it!

Dinner that evening was at the Boullon Chartier, which is a popular French restaurant complete with traditionally dressed waiters and typical cuisine. I opted for the steak tartar because, well, it seemed the French thing to do. Our group, which included some of Monica and Olivier's local friends had a great time sharing travel stories and more than a couple of bottles of nice French wine.

The three of us were on our own for day two so we decided to visit Versailles where I had also never been. Wow - talk about crazy! The serpentine line out front reminded me of our visit to the Vatican with Diana's parents a few years ago. I'd guess there were more than a thousand people waiting with us.

We spent maybe three hours visiting the impressively-detailed palace. I was telling Diana how it reminded me of the palaces (like Hohenschwangau and Ludwigsburg) we visited when we lived in Germany and she laughed at me (definitely not the first time!). Ah, yeah, she said, they were copying this one. Oh. Okay.

A note about visiting Versailles. A friend of mine said that we should stay to see the evening light and music show so booked tickets for both in advance. After spending the better part of the afternoon visiting the palace and surrounding (amazing) gardens, we hung out for a couple of hours in the park waiting for the gates to reopen (they kick you out around 5pm and reopen around 7 or so). When the time came, we went to the gate and...they said sorry, this is a daytime ticket, which is no good for the show. Argh! Well, it seems we're not the first to have this happen. Turns out the company that runs the show is completely different and it needs to be booked separately.

So, we bailed on paying an additional like 20-something euros each and went for dinner at the nearby Notre Dame (not the church) Market where there's a bunch of outdoor, cafe-style restaurants.

La Creperie. So very France!

And so came the big day! Sunday, the final day of the Tour de France when the peloton arrives for a mostly ceremonial run through the cobbled streets of Paris!

I had read that a good spot to see the action was, surprisingly, right out in front of the Louvre. I had my doubts but our group headed that way and arrived just as the parade was going by. The spectacle of floats, funny costumes, and freebies is every bit looked forward to I'd image in the same way that people watch the Super Bowl to see the commercials.

When we arrived there was still about an hour or so until the peloton would pass by and we were able to claim a spot opposite the museum right up against the railing. Woohoo! All the sudden a line of fast-moving cars with advertising on the side and bicycles on the roof went rushing by. Not more than 30 seconds later, the first rider went by. FAST! Like a rocket. Then, 20 seconds or so later, the peloton arrived! There's this year's winner, England's Chris Froome, in his yellow jersey (just above the photographer):

Diana was excited to see Colombia's Nairo Quintana who's been tearing it up and finished second this year. Not only is he from Colombia, he's from Boyaca, which is the state where Chiquinquira and Villa de Lleyva are and where Diana's parents are from. You can see Nairo with the blue jersey and yellow helmet just at the bottom left corner of the pyramid:

The disadvantage of our amazing viewing spot was that the peloton only passes once. We decided to head over to the other side of the Tuileries Gardens where the peloton disappears into the tunnel. The riders passed by twice in the short amount of time we hung out there. Actually, it's amazing how fast they go up to the Arc de Triomphe and back. I would guess it was like 10 minutes but it has to be more. They move so fast; that was probably the biggest surprise of the day.

From there, we walked over to another of the park's edges and watched the riders go by a couple of more times. After the final lap and it was clear Froome had won, we found a nice place to get a bottle of Champagne to celebrate. Oh, and one of the last surprises, they served those amazing peanut butter flavored (cheese) curls I love from when we lived in Germany!

Thanks to Monica and Olivier for hosting us at their new Paris place! Last time it was Istambul, Turkey. Like whereisdarrennow, I wonder where they'll end up next! Something I do know, if they do go somewhere new, we won't be far behind! :)

2016 Nike Barcelona SLS Skateboard Contest

When I was maybe eight or nine years old, I started getting seriously into bicycle riding. It started out innocently with a BMX bike that my parents gave me and, over the years, moved into more and more higher-end bikes and got to the point where I spent almost every waking hour when I wasn't in school or working riding with friends. To pay for my addiction, I started peddling (ha - punny!) newspapers when I was ten and later other jobs included selling, doing repairs, and so on in bike and skateboard shops.

My biking "career" spanned the last couple of years of grade school, through high school, and even some time at university. A lot of it was racing BMX but, by the time I was in 10th grade, our group of friends started "doing freestyle", which was stunt riding on BMX bikes. It was right around then that we also got into skateboarding. Some of the same spots that were good for freestyle lent (and still do lend) themselves nicely to skateboarding. Plus, when it rained or snowed, the bikes stayed home; we were limited to skateboarding in Center City Philadelphia parking structures.

About half way through university, a friend from high school moved to San Diego to work in the skateboard industry. I went to visit him for a week or so one summer and, within a couple of hours of landing in Los Angeles, I was hooked. Right after university, I was off to California where I spent the next 19 years. The whole time I was surrounded by friends who worked in the skateboarding, snowboarding, and surfing industries. I was even lucky to work in the bicycle and snowboard industries for a while.

One those friends, John John, who managed what so many dream of doing - turn a love (of action sports) into an amazing job and lifestyle, recently messaged asking if I'd be around as he could get me tickets to the Nike Street League Skateboarding Pro Open contest.

I told John John that, of course, we'd love to go! When the day arrived, Diana and I took the train to the Skate Agora skatepark in Badalona, which is the next town north of Barcelona. We grabbed our V.I.P. bracelets and set in to enjoy watching pro skaters from around the world compete on the newish, well-designed, beach-side park.

Since moving away from California, I've only been marginally aware of the industry and sports that occupied such a majority of my time on this planet. Barcelona has its own (fairly big) skateboarding scene, the mountains are close, and you'll even see the occasional surfer at the beach but it's just not the same intensity as it was in Oceanside. It was nice to be back in the mix, even if just as an observer.

Thanks for the tickets John John! We had a great time (vicariously) reliving my youth. Maybe when you and the family come for a visit, we can roll around the park for a bit!

Edinburgh Scotland

Never saying no to an opportunity, Diana and I were lucky enough to take a surprise, last-minute weekend trip to Edinburgh, Scotland:

The trip was almost exactly ten years since my last visit. Back then, pre-whereisdarrennow, I spent a couple of days in Glasgow, maybe four or five days driving up to Inverness and then back down to Edinburgh for a couple of more days. Here's a shot of me (with my hair just starting to grow out!) looking for Nessie at Loch Ness:

Being that it had been ten years, I couldn't remember exactly what Edinburgh was like. I think it was partially due to having visited Glasgow, Inverness, Edinburgh, as well as a few other towns along the way, which made them all kinda' run together. But, once we arrived and were walking around, many details came back.

The Edinburgh castle as seen from the King's Stables area:

We arrived in time for a late-afternoon pub lunch, which consisted of some kind of meat pie, mashed potatoes, and, of course, gravy. I'm generally a wine drinker but, when visiting England or Ireland, I like trying the different ciders. Sometimes they're really good and other times they're waaaay too sweet. It wasn't until going to this pub that I learned that there are different sweetness levels and that I could ask for a "dry" cider. Yummy food, yummy company, AND yummy cider!

We spent the next six or seven hours walking around town. Even after living in Europe for over six years, I'm still impressed by the architecture and walkability. Yes, I know that U.S. cities like Philadelphia, Boston, and New York can be similar but there's just something about buildings and places that have been continuously inhabited for hundreds, if not thousands of years.

I'm guessing that demographics and culture are changing in Scotland like they are in the United States. Near where I grew up, some churches and catholic schools are closing down due to a lack of local parishioners including my grade school. Walking around Edinburgh, we came across churches that had been repurposed into museums, theaters, restaurants, and even night clubs. I've always wanted to live in an old firehouse including being able to go downstairs in the morning using the pole but I had never considered an old church before now!

We walked up to the castle to take in the city view. Looking out towards the Salisbury Crags (the hill off in the distance - more below), I remembered this scene very well from my last trip.

It was fairly late in the day by the time we reached the castle so we decided it wasn't worth it to go in for only an hour. Plus, I had done it before...gotta' love that hair!

On our way back to the apartment, we stopped to take some professional portraits overlooking the city:

...and mine (Diana's definitely a better photographer!)...

Okay, so a bit of a random digression. Why is it that if you try to use "Scottish" pounds in a London shop do they look at you like the money is fake but when using "English" pounds in Scotland it's no problem?

In the photo below, you'll see two ten-pound and two five-pound notes. The middle two were issued by the Bank of England, the top one by Clydesdale Bank (a Scottish bank), and the bottom by the Bank of Scotland. Regardless of where the money is issued, it's worth the same; a ten-pound note is always worth ten pounds, or at least I'm told. I just know that I'll probably have trouble trying to use my leftover "Scottish" money during my next trip to England.

One last thing; if you look at the two middle notes, both have similar (the same?) picture of the queen. But, and it's probably just me or maybe even the fact that the five-pound note is more wrinkled, the queen on the five appears to be pensively looking out to her right while the one on the ten-pound note seems to be looking at us with an almost sexy stare!

Our second day in town started with me eating a Full English, which is like a U.K. breakfast Bandeja Paisa. As with its cousin from Colombia, there are eggs, sausages, (baked) beans, ham (bacon), fried mushrooms, toast, and white and (my favorite) black pudding. All that and a cup-o-Joe and you're all set for a good day. Yummy!

Our big bust out for the trip was taking the Underground City tour, where you go below what is now the city chambers to see old dwellings. When the building was built, they removed the top floors of housing and left the bottom few floors as foundation.

They do a great job of setting the scene for what life was like in the city during the late middle ages. The housing of the era could be up to maybe nine floors with the distance between facades of maybe five feet apart. There was very little light that got to the bottom floors where the poorest people lived in their tiny, low-ceiling, one-room dwellings.

I'd imagine it was quite lovely walking down Mary King's Close (the name of the street below) especially considering the residents would dispose of their waste, including human, out their front windows twice a day. There was no sewer system to speak of, other than the rain - bombs away!!!

Apart from the thought of the "black rain", the guide told us about how the plague impacted the city. Much like Barcelona and other European cities, the flea-borne disease decimated the local population.

Many cities had doctors who would go out among the victims to try to help them and to also provide accurate counts of the dead. These "plague doctors" wore heavy garments and masks as protection from the evil spirits that brought the disease. The masks sometimes looked like a bird's beaks due to their long "nose" where the doctors would place herbs and other aromatic materials. It's now believed that these heavy garments provided some protection from flea bites, which helped them to not (always) get sick.

I took a photo of the Doctor Rae exhibit (Edinburgh's famous plague doctor) in one of the rooms where people used to live. I'm not sure what happened but the LED lighting must have confused my camera resulting in this unretouched photo, which I really like!

After the tour, we walked the rest of the way down the Royal Mile with a plan to hike up to the top of the Salisbury Crags, which is a large hill and rock formation in the center of town.

We stopped for a bit to enjoy the views and to watch some kids playing in a fountain. I laughed because it was maybe 60 degrees (15 C) and the kids were in shorts, some with shirts, and all having a fun time splashing around. The reason why I found it funny was because in Barcelona when it's that temperature parents have their kids (and most likely themselves) bundled up in winter clothes and would never imagine their kids playing in water at that temperature. But, much like when we lived in Germany, a 60 degree day is summer in northern Europe!

The Crags are lovely natural backdrop to the city and offer a 360-degree view of the whole Edinburgh area. It took us about an hour to make it to the top and we hung out and enjoyed the city and water views for another 30 minutes or so.

We were super lucky that the weather was great while we were in town. Locals told me that it was 16 days straight without rain, which ended the last morning we were in town, when it rained lightly.

Diana and I had a great time and really enjoyed the city and, of course, the food! A special shout out to some friends who made our last evening in town extra special with a nice dinner out. Thanks for the fun Scotland!

The (Travel) Force Is Strong With This One

Poking around my blog, you might guess that my love of travel is genetic and that I come from a long line of explorers. Well, that's really not the case. Actually, many in my family just don't get why I like wandering all over the world. There are a couple of exceptions though, like my aunt and uncle and, now, my niece.

Back in 2010, I was in Philadelphia for Thanksgiving when my cousin's daughter, who was in high school at the time, showed some interest in my travels. She asked me where I had been, what I liked, and some ideas of places she might visit one day. Even though she had yet to enter university, she was already thinking about where she'd could do an exchange semester overseas. As I had just come to Philadelphia directly from China, I think I said how impressed I was and that she might consider going there. I probably gave her some other ideas but I don't remember now.

Like all smart people, she's completely ignored my advice and is currently doing an exchange semester in London! By the way, it seems like that conversation was yesterday! I'm old!

When I found out she'd be in England, Diana and I told her she needed to visit during a break. It was an even bigger surprise when my cousin decided to visit her and that they'd do a quick Barcelona trip!

Even though it was for only a couple of days, we squeezed in all the best of Barcelona. The Magic Fountain above and the full Sagrada Familia tour. This was just a couple of days after we went for our private tour with Victor Ochen.

By the way, I was recently corrected that I'm wrong to call my cousin's daughter my niece but saying "my first cousin once removed" is just way too complicated, so you'll have to forgive me as I'll just continue saying niece.

I mentioned above about how my niece is a bit of a travel fan. She did a project in Belgium last year and has been bouncing around Europe for the last couple of months. I was jealous when I recently saw her posts from Croatia! It's good that the force is strong with (someone in) my family (finally)!

Taking in the view from Park Guell:

Between the wedding and several random visits like this one, maybe a third of my family's been, which isn't too bad when you consider it's like a ten-hour flight away. Now, about the rest of them...

At Casa Batllo:

It was a treat to have these guys stay with us. I can't wait to visit my niece when she's living somewhere in a land far, far away (hint, hint). Based on what I've seen, it won't be a long, long time...

The Day A Nobel Peace Prize Candidate Stopped By

Not too long ago I mentioned how a lot of random (good) things happen for Diana and me like the time we got an impromptu castle tour in Barbera de la Concha and when I taught the English class in Tibet. I figured this kinda' stuff happens to everyone but, after talking to some friends, it may come down to our openness to new experiences. The reality is that I can't remember a time when someone asked me to do something and I didn't except for when I was physically not able/there.

One recent example was when Xavi, the priest who married us, asked Diana if he could bring a few people by our apartment for pica pica one Sunday afternoon after a meeting. It's one of the reasons why we like living in the very center of Barcelona - people tend to stop by, which we really enjoy. Anyway, he didn't go into a lot of detail but, as usual, we said sure. Diana and I bought some food and straightened up a bit. Nothing special down to the plastic plates and cups. Hey, nothing screams class more than serving Cava and wine in plasticware!

Well, turns out that the guest of honor was Victor Ochen who was a 2015 Nobel Peace Prize candidate. D'oh, IKEA furniture and plastic cups!

Victor was in Spain to give a series of talks about his life and work. While my shallow self was worried about cutlery, Victor casually told us about how he spent his first 20 years living through civil war, surviving meningitis with no medical care, growing up in refuge camps, and trying not to get kidnapped and/or taken away to fight (like his brother who never came back). Then, if all that wasn't enough, how, for the last 15 years, he's been working for peace as well as starting and running the the African Youth Initiative Network. In other words, some amazing things.

We hung out at our place for about two hours before Xavi asked Diana and me if we'd like to go with them to the Sagrada Familia for a private tour. Sagrada Familia. Private tour. Hmm, is the Pope Catholic? Of course!!! And off we went.

Our tour was led by, you're not going to believe this, the parish priest of the Sagrada Familia, Father Lluis Bonet i Armengol whose father worked with Gaudi and whose brother oversaw construction of the Sagrada Familia for 28 years! Could this day get any better?

Father Bonet i Armengol took us through the entire church pointing out things like that the stained-glass windows each have a name of place, such as Lourdes and Guadalupe, where a miracle has happened. At one point, he asked Diana where she was from and, when she said Colombia, he said, oh, there's a window for Chiquinquira. What? The small farming town where Diana's parents are from here in the Sagrada Familia? Crazy. If you look at approximately 10 o'clock in the photo below, you'll see Chiquinquira.

We even had some fun during the tour. While in the crypt, Father Bonet i Armengol made each of us sit in a confessional that he said Gaudi designed. Here's Victor shyly looking out:

While in the crypt, I saw this lectern, which Father Bonet i Armengol said was also a Gaudi design. I love the dragons at the top and the bird feet down below:

After our church tour, we went to the parish office, which, if you're familiar with the Sagrada Familia, is the brick building to the left of the Passion facade. Victor signed the guest book and Father Bonet i Armengol showed us old photos and other Sagrada Familia memorabilia. Ah, yeah, that's me in the Sagrada Familia parish office with the parish priest and a Nobel candidate. Crazy day.

Father Bonet i Armengol sharing research he had done with Victor and Diana:

Victor had one more job to do after we left the Sagrada Familia. We went with him to a church where he gave a speech and met with parishioners. At this point, it felt like we were old friends so it was a bit strange to see him up on stage.

As you could imagine, Victor's an amazing guy. He's smart, funny, charismatic, humble, and even a bit shy. It was his humbleness that really struck me. Here's a guy who was nominated for a Nobel prize, who travels around the world speaking, who Forbes named one of the most powerful men in Africa, and who's got Desmond Tutu Whatsapping him, yet he was super humble. Like what he was doing was something anyone could do. Total respect.

Photo Credit

The thing that I'll always remember about Victor, well other than he invited us to come stay with him in Uganda, was when he and I were just outside the Sagrada Familia waiting for the others. Looking at the scene, he reached over and pulled me in close, looked me in the eye, and said something like "this is amazing". I looked back and said "really, this happens to me every day" and we laughed like a couple of old friends.