After Biarittz

This story is typical of the way things go when your traveling wild in the world with ought a plan. Well, we thought we had mad a plan to go to Toulouse and then on to visit friends outside of Marsille. We got the car packed, started off to the moterway, pulled out the atlas and decided since geographically we were so close to Spain why not spend a night in Barcelona instead. Besides neither of us had seem the Pyrenees mountains and we could drive through the micro country Andora la Vella on the way.

It was sunset when we made it into the mountains, we were planning to camp but it was getting late, and we were starving so we ot a bite and happened upon a music festival in some small village. A bad duck confet, basque square dancing and a park trip latter the whole group wanted to sleep in some shelter so we hoped in the car to look for a hotel. Before we knew it we were 15 minutes out of town with only a palace to stay in. Josh told me not to convert from Euros to dollars and it would all seem appropriately priced. I slept like a baby and was ready for Barcelona the next day. On our drive in we had seen signs for a grotto with cave paintings so we thought it would be cool to see some 15,000 year old art. We followed the signs to what looked like a archeologists theme park for kids. Fake cave water falls, demonstrations on how to make fire ect... All was dandy till we tried to find the caves. Apparently we had paid $80 so the family could in a pinch have some skills to live in a cave. I have to confess when I found out that it was a two day wait to get into the caves I got emotional. It must not have been an attractive sight to have a grown woman sitting on a bench, tears streaming and whining about the suddenly most important thing ever. I think I actually said, "by the next time i'm in the Pyrenees mountains I might be a blind old lady". Only a art dork would feel so wounded.

I managed to pull myself together (barley) and we all got in the car for Andora and then Barcelona. The sensation of driving up into the clouds helped ease my pain and by the time we were in Andora I was recovered.

Josh and I started thinking about how great it would be to settle in Spain for the year, learn spanish and eat lots of paella. The fantasy ran wild and we were all set to settle in Barcelona. Dusk again, we made it to Barcelona. I saw Sagrada Familia from the freeway so I knew where to get off. We started driving around checking it all out, looking for a place to live and a room for the night. Things looked rougher than I had remembered pre kid, that dark wild spooky side of Barcelona just started looking spooky. Narrow alleys with grafitti and rough men lurking. At one point I looked at josh and said, "if my parents sold my house, took me away from all my friends and ploped me in Barcleona I would be scared shittless". Josh was still high on the spanish cool-aid and told me to be quiet.

We found a nice area and Apollonia was doing her I have to pee freak out so I let Josh and her out at a hotel and I circled while they did there thing. This is where at a traffic light on a busy street I see a man walking to the car. I am getting good at ignoring people in hopes that they don't talk to me in a language I don't understand so I did my thing and started rolling up the window. Next thing I knew he was at my half rolled window telling me to get out of the car. I slid my elbow over to lock the doors with my finger still on the window button. I realized the passenger window was likely down and looked to the right to see another guy walking up the side of the car. In a surreal flash I heard the first guy pulling at the door handle trying to get in. Josh thinks it is so great that I did the right thing by not letting them in but it wasn't bravery. Some things just are not an option when your kids are concerned. I got a real sense of how f**** up this was with guy two showing up so I started to pull over into the clear right lane. Not sure if guy one moved because I was starting towards him with the car or what but before I knew it they had vanished and I back around the corner at the hotel. I double parked and lay on the horn so that Josh would come out with ought booking the room. He got in the car with stories of a drunk belligerent irish group and after swapping stories combined with Angelo's fear of Espana we decide to head for France.

We pulled over at some small town to grab a bite and sat on a patio and watched the most amazing half hour fireworks display. We all felt better reaffirmed and ready to pull through to France. Suddenly learning to speak french seemed completely practical. I wonder what rents are like like in Paris?