by Missie Hills | Mar 7, 2019 | Africa, International Adventures
We weren’t quite sure what to expect from Morocco, but as soon as we arrived in Fes, we knew we were up for something special. Even the airport was covered in beautiful tiles, fountains, and lamps.
I had read enough to know that we might have a hard time finding our Riad, or what we would refer to as a bed and breakfast here in the States. So, we had a driver pick us up at the airport and escort us through the Medina to our room. And thank god we did. There was no way we were finding that place on our own. For one thing, you can’t just drive up to the front door and ask for valet. Instead, our driver got us as close as the narrow streets would allow. Then we followed the bell hop through the tiny alleys taking about a million turns and wondering if the stroller we bought would hold up in these conditions.
Once we found the Riad, we were relieved to find hot tea and cookies waiting for us. Our Riad owner took the time to tell us all about the city. We asked him if he could find us a guide. After the trek to the Riad we knew we couldn’t navigate the Medina alone. He set us up with a historian and promised we would be able to find some lunch along the tour.
Our historian tour guide soon met us at the Riad after we had time to freshen up. For our first stop, he took us into a carpet shop to see the beautiful rugs that the country had to offer. The shop owner fed us camel sandwiches while giving us a history lesson on rug making in Morocco. They pulled out rug after rug hoping one would catch our eye, and we would take it home. But our wallets weren’t that thick. After lunch we politely declined the purchase of a rug. I expected a more aggressive sell, but the shop owner was very courteous. I think they just enjoyed our company, especially Ethan’s. He covered Ethan’s head in kisses, a strange gesture to us Americans but very normal in Morocco, and let him run around the shop trampling all over the expensive rugs. Ethan even got a magic carpet ride!
After our lunch, the Historian dragged us from section to section of the large Medina, showing us how everything in Morocco was made. We saw the linens section, the wood section, the tiles section, the metal works section, and perhaps my favorite, the leather section.
Fes is home of the world’s oldest tannery, the Chouara Tannery. Seeing the leathers being dyed up on the roof was quite an experience. I’ll never forget the smell! Although the shop owners weren’t aggressive, there was an obvious unspoken expectation that you buy something after getting the shop tours. We left the tannery with a pair of beautiful ottomans.
Of course the Historian wouldn’t let us miss the oldest continuously operating college in the world, University of Al Quaraouiyine, even if we couldn’t go inside. We saw the beautiful entrances into the college throughout the Medina. And a quick drive outside of the Medina brought us to the King’s Palace where I was directed to only point my camera in one direction and stand exactly were we were told.
The Historian filled our heads with all kinds of knowledge that I quickly forgot that night. But I do remember that every shape and every color in the numerous tiles we saw had a specific meaning.
The beauty of the city was quite perplexing. The interior design was always over the top, filled to the brim with intricate details. But the exterior quickly reminded us that we were in a third world country with such labor intensive work and widespread poverty that we quickly felt humbled. Of course, anytime you visit something as old as 8th century, you’re bound to see some wear and tear. And you’re bound to be amazed. We left Fes in awe. In awe of the history, in awe of the beauty, and in awe of the intensity of the day to day life in the packed tiny alleys.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Mar 3, 2019 | Europe, International Adventures
Those who have heard of Andorra are probably wondering why we would visit the tiny country outside of ski season. Those who haven’t are probably wondering why we would visit at all. We really don’t have a good excuse other than it was an interesting stop on our drive from Pamplona to Barcelona that would help us add another country to our list. And what a beautiful drive it was.
For our first drive from Barcelona to Pamplona, we took the highway, which did nothing more then provide sights that made us think we were in Arizona and cost us nearly $100 in tolls . But for our second trip from Pamplona back to Barcelona, we hugged the French/Spanish border leaving us with breathtaking views, scary cliff edged roads, and a heightened sense of adventure. We even found time to stop for lunch one afternoon in Spain and one afternoon in France giving us a unique opportunity to explore some small country villages while singing Beauty and Beast’s soundtrack on repeat.
Andorra may have been just another click in our country count. However, it was definitely a click worth making. This tiny country may be tucked between the French and Spanish border, but it has a unique charm of its own. The best word I can find to describe Andorra La Vella is Eclectic.
Down one alley, we came across statues of men perched in the fetal position high above our heads. Down another, was a store dedicated only to 1980’s American fashion perfect for that Saved by the Bell look. And yet another, the most hipster bar I’ve ever come across donned with swings for seats, suspender-ed bearded bartenders, and of course a really old telephone. And you can’t get more eclectic then having dinner in a Valentines Day themed restaurant while listening to Michael Buble Christmas music. Everything was weird. Yet, everything was overwhelmingly charming.
Being nestled in the Pyrenees Mountains meant a lot of walking and a lot of stairs. Some very nice locals finally clued us in to the hidden elevators throughout the city making our exploration a little easier. I had to take advantage of the perfect alleys for an impromptu photo-shoot of Little E.
In the heart of the city we got the perfect representation of the city’s soul. Salvador Dali’s “the Nobility of Time” sits proudly in the center of town back-dropped with a modern cable-stayed bridge spanning the Gran Valira River.
Hanging on the bridge for all to see is the town name in bright circus lights reminding the city that it is unique. It is special, not belonging to the Spanish and not belonging to the French. Only belonging to the Andorrans. It is Andorra.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Mar 1, 2019 | Europe, International Adventures
When our friend Adam told us he was participating in the infamous Running with Bulls ceremony during our group trip to Spain, Jason politely said, “Have fun. It was nice knowing ya.” And he thought that was that. But I wasn’t about to let my adorable hubby miss out on a once in a lifetime adventure. I knew that he would never be content watching Adam run for his life while he sipped coffee from a safe distance on a cozy balcony. So, I did what any good wife would do. I talked him into running too with full intent of watching while I sipped my coffee from a safe distance on a cozy balcony.
Little did I know, I just signed my husband up for a real life thrill. I was sure that the danger associated with bull runs was imaginary. In my mind, I compared it to sky diving or bungee jumping. A little dangerous but mostly safe. I was wrong.
I started to notice how wrong I was shortly after we arrived in Pamplona. Everyone we met had something to say about the festival and nothing led us to believe it was safe and sound. Every TV in sight had clips from that mornings run showing people getting trampled and carried off in stretchers. Suddenly, my heart sunk. Would I be leaving Spain a widow?
The morning of the run we woke before the sun rose, dressed in all white with splashes of red, and headed to the streets. The ladies and Little E had booked a lovely balcony promising the best views of the run the city had to offer. Everyone’s nerves were on high. But we were quickly distracted once we hit Town Center. The previous night’s festivities were still going strong. Ok, strong is not quite the right word. The streets were packed with rowdy, stumbling, not so great smelling, patrons celebrating the previous morning’s bull run. That day’s run was about to start in 2 hours! How would they every clean these streets in time?
Somehow they managed to clear out the rats and clean up the streets. And clean, fresh, but very anxious patrons started to pack the streets. The air was full of anticipation. Jill, Ethan, and I were comfortable in our cozy apartment above the streets. But our hands were shaking as we were starting to think this was the dumbest thing we have ever let our husbands do. My mama brain started to wonder, What kind of mother lets her toddler witness this carnage?
When we heard the first rocket sound, we knew there was no stopping those bulls now. We anxiously watched from our balcony, and within minutes, we saw the hoard coming our way. Everything happened in a flash. We couldn’t pick out our men. We watched as random men got trampled and prayed that our hubbies didn’t have the same fate. Once the run was complete, we watched the entire thing on the TV. We watched as one guy got trampled enough to put him on a stretcher and another got gored in the side by black bull horn. Time seemed to take forever while we waited to get those phone calls from our husbands saying they were all right.
But alas they were. Adam arrived first with a few tears in his cloths and a bloody knee. Jason soon followed with nothing more than dirt on his pants. Both had epic stories to tell. Both were running high on adrenaline. We celebrated with some breakfast tapas and beer. Then when the streets cleared, we started our exploration of the city. The charm of the city captivated me quickly. I’ve never met a cobble stoned street I didn’t love. And something about donning the traditional all white and red with everyone else added to the experience in a special way. We filled the rest of day with celebratory chocolate milk and cognac (a run tradition), delicious food, and of course a lot of sangria.
All in all, the experience was something we will never forget. Did the boys get a little to close to the edge this time? Did our rush for adventure take us a little too far? Maybe. But to quote Ernest Hemingway, “Only those who are prepared to go too far can possible know how far they can go.”
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Feb 23, 2019 | Europe, International Adventures
Everyone has their favorite things to do while travelling. Mine are about as standard as anyone’s… 1. Food 2. Architecture 3. Culture. Jason would put history in there somewhere, but I never could get that excited about history. I covered food pretty well in my last post about La Boquira. So now, for the architecture!
Walking through the narrow alleys of the Gothic Quarter immediately transferred me back in time. But back into which time, I couldn’t quite tell as I was hit with details swaying back forth between Medieval and Roman.
One moment I’m exploring the Roman ruins of Barcino preserved under the city in the Museu Historia. Then, a quick step into the empty Saint Agatha chapel brought me quickly back into the middle ages with its gothic alter. And just as quickly, I’m led out onto the steps of Plaça del Rei, a 14th century medieval public square.
The shifts in architecture fueled my obsession with details. But as usual, Jason had no patience for the never ending snapping of my camera, and I was left to scuttle behind the group trying to catch what I could while keeping up and not getting lost. I think Little E inherited my obsession as well. He made sure to point out every lion shaped gargoyle in sight while adding in a fierce growl each time.
And OK, OK, I can’t get through even one post without mentioning something about the food. What’s a stroll through a beautiful Spanish city without a stop for some Sangria and Tapas?
Jill and Adam had already visited the Cathedral of Barcelona. Because of what they saw, they wouldn’t let us miss it. We got there just before closing. Jill and Adam stayed outside with Little E, and Jason and I hurried through the massive church. We have seen so many churches in our travels that we have gotten a bit numb to seeing the real beauty they can offer. However, this cathedral showcased gothic architecture in a hauntingly beautiful way leaving both of us a little breathless.
But little did I know, the Cathedral of Barcelona wasn’t even the most extravagant cathedral in Barcelona. Nope, the award goes to the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família.
Interestingly enough, the word gaudy doesn’t actually stem from the architect Antoni Gaudi. But boy is his work gaudy! I mean just look at this building…
The Sagrada Familia has been under construction for 136 years, and it is still incomplete! I found it to be possibly the most marvelous church I have ever experienced. The interior design has an ethereal feel filled with so many elements of nature that force your eyes up to the heavens. The stain glass fills the white walls with a vibrant rainbow of colors, blue and greens on one side, red and oranges on the other. The exterior is loaded with sharp gothic designs, symbolism that made me feel like I was in Dante’s Inferno, and a lot of creepy gargoyles. Little E loved pointing out all the unique creatures while making strange growls.
My catholic travel buddies were taken aback by the touristy flashy feel. It didn’t help that the church was missing holy water at that entrances and the pews or alters for prayer. It didn’t really seem like a place of worship. Eventually, we did see where the actual worship hall was located at the lower level bringing my skeptic friends a little peace. But perhaps they still weren’t really feeling present in the moment with the sun bearing down heat waves on us and the final world cup game teasing their attention in nearby bars. So, I was convinced to leave after about a half hour lured away with promises of sangria and croquets.
For me, the Gaudi style can be compared to that middle aged lady you all know who wears loud colors, mixes prints, and covers herself in a ton of costume jewelry with large beads and rhinestones. And yet, after experiencing the chaotic mix of details the church offered first hand, I fell in love with its quirky personality. I mean who wouldn’t want to live in this house.
And just for giggles, let’s bring us back into the Gothic style one more time… at the Maritime Museum, which turned out to be way more pleasant than I could have imagined. I had no idea that another trip to another museum would have me mesmerized in even more beautiful gothic architecture. The building is a 13th century shipyard turned military building, now turned museum. So while Jason got his fix of history, I got my fix of looking up in awe at another beautiful ceiling.
There really are so many reasons people end up loving Barcelona, the tapas, the friendly people, the fashion… I hear it time and time again from my travel crazy friends, “Barcelona is my favorite city!” For me though, I fell in love with the city because of its dramatic flair, where nothing is soft and inviting, and everything is fierce and exciting.
Although I’m just a simple country girl who rarely wears much more than studded earrings and a single pendant necklace, I can still appreciate the art of the gothic style that is so different than me. Seeing things so different than me is precisely why I travel after all.
And for proof that not all moments are picture perfect…
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Feb 3, 2019 | Europe, International Adventures
La Boquira… the name just rolls off my tongue. La Boquira, La Boquira, La Boquira…
Nestled in the heart of the Las Rambas lies La Boquira, a massive foodie market that might as well be heaven for my millennial soul. From the moment we crossed the markets threshold, beautifully ordained with an exceptional crest, my senses where overwhelmed with the strong smells of seafood, colorful piles of spices, and the hustle and bustle of the crowd.
The market was definitely overly crowded. I suppose being the best at anything will draw a crowd. This pushed my anxiety a bit as I don’t like to be crammed into places much. And pushing a baby through the crowd made things a little more complicated. But if we can’t handle pushing a stroller through a crammed crowd, we probably shouldn’t claim to be travel parent pros. So, we pushed on.
We stopped often to snap photos of weird fish and to try unique items like ostrich and kangaroo. The local vendors didn’t mind mine and Jill’s obsessive photo taking. They pretty much waved us off as crazy tourists. Little E really enjoyed the fresh squeezed juice. Actually, we all did. The market was dappled all over with these adorable fruit juice stands. I wanted to try every flavor!
Jason was super excited to have his first taste of parnil, a dried ham known to be an expensive delicacy. Jill was super excited to get a stick of chocolate covered strawberries. I was super excited to try some hot seafood empanadas. And Little E was super excited to have his cup of fresh fruit. Everyone was happy.
We eventually sought refuge outside the stuffy market for some fresh air and space. And even though I could have spent my entire vacation in that market, I agreed to continue our exploration of the city into the gothic quarter.
I couldn’t stay away forever though. The next day, I was determined have one more visit to the market before we hit the road. So, while the hubby’s headed to fetch the rental car, Jill, Little E and I made way to La Boquira for lunch. We loaded up on fresh pasta and more fruit juice and found a quiet sidewalk to sit on and people watch.
This market really embodied Barcelona to me, a city where mediocrity is nowhere to be found, where everyone is entitled to the best delicacies, and where being fresh and unique is a state of mind. Yeah, typically a crowded stuffy area is the last place I want to be. But sometimes, I know I need to let myself get caught up into the chaos. Sometimes, I should let my senses go on fully loaded overdrive. Sometimes, I should just embrace the culture shock. Because I didn’t travel halfway across the world to accept anything less.
Until next time,
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