Life: Idiotropic

These are a small portion of the flowers that will be thrown today.

Every year at the end of the Feria de Julio in Valencia, a flower fight ensues on the Paseo de la Alameda where locals and tourists can pelt the finely dressed fallera princesses sitting properly in large floral floats with heavy headed flowers.  It's perfect for women with a complex.  Let's pelt the fair skinned with flowers and try to mess that perfect hair!

I've known about this parade for over a year.  What I didn't know and hadn't read in any blog or review of the event is that if you actually want to be a part of the flower throwing fight, you have to buy a ticket in advance for one of the private boxes along either side of the street.  There, you have room for 6 people and are provided with two crates of flowers and a bag of snacks.  That would have been perfect.  And I would have paid... if I would have known... but I didn't... so...

I stood on a gazebo just behind the thick crowds who pushed in on each other behind the fence that separated the masses from the privileged box holders.  The gazebo had no ladder nor stairs.  You had to reach up, grab onto the wrought iron fence around it, and pull yourself up.  I pushed up Luci, then Elise.  Strangers helped them in and took my purse for me.  Strangers let Luci and Elise stand in front of them and watch the parade as well.  They are good to children here.

I, armed with several lenses, used only my telephoto as I was much too far to really get the close shots I wanted.  It was painfully disappointing.

All Valencian processions begin with men on horses, so promptly at 2030, two men in uniform with feathered hats rode by on dappled white horses.    The ponchoed men with flower poles were next, then falla couples riding together, then the cars, then the floats.

The parade route is a wide strip of road about 5 city blocks long.  It's covered in the fine sand that is used here for bull runs to give the animals traction on the roads.  The parade begins slowly.  Each car or float passes the judges stand and the announcer tells the audience where they are from.  They pass by, turn at the end, then return creating a long loop with new floats going up one side and ones we've seen returning on the other.  They continue the loop passing by again and this time the announcer hands out prizes to the best floats.  The float of the Ayutamiento - the City Hall with last year's court wins the biggest prize and the Fallera Major sits there all smiles waving to the crowds.


























The neighborhoods of Valencia have recently chosen their 2010-2011 Fallera courts, the court of princesses that will attend many of the events during this year of celebrations leading up to Fallas.  Most of them today are dressed in the traditional silk gowns with the special hair pieces and hair combs put in and big dangle earrings.   Some though are dressed in a theme to match their float - cats, Hawaiian girls, country girls with straw hats, Egyptians... it's fun to see and so far, they are all quite happy.

It's hot and humid.  I can't imagine how uncomfortable they must be sitting packed tightly together in those heavy silk dresses, tennis rackets neatly laid across their laps.

When all the awards have been given out, they sound a blast and the flower fight begins.  Those folks in the boxes are grabbing handfuls of flowers and pelting falleras young and old.  No one is safe. Some of the girls hide behind their rackets shielding their eyes. Some scoop up handfuls of flowers as they fall and throw them right back.

Many of the older girls have a clear plastic sheet across their laps to keep their dresses clean.  A fallera's dress can cost well over 10,000 Euros.

The fight lasts for 30 minutes.  The fallera major hides behind her racket the entire time picking flowers off her skirt as they land.

When the blast sounds again, it is over.  The last of the flowers are thrown as the floats exit the Alameda and dismantle up the street.  The crowds (us included) take to the parade route picking up handfuls of flowers from the ground and pelting each other with them.  I learned that Luci and Elise both have great aim when throwing mums.  The smell is strong.  I could smell it from the gazebo too.  The sweet mum smell is unmistakable.

We walk by a few crowded stands selling grilled corn, something I've only seen in the summer here.  There's a small fireworks display - quite sad really, nothing like the usual Valencian displays that have so impressed me.  We walk around the carnival and see a food vendor selling "Cheek Kebabs,"  then I let the girls play for a few minutes before we go home.

So I go the an absolute paradise today.  The weather is perfect.  The parking lot is packed with people, but when we walk down, the waterfalls remain pristine with not a person in sight.  It's ours for the taking.  The butterflies are everywhere - beautiful, big ones like something out of a fairytale.  This one flies all around me and keep landing on the ground near my feet.  I'm able to get within just a couple inches of him.

I was ready.  I charged my camera battery last night.  I had three lenses and had learned a few new settings to play with while I photographed the waterfalls.  I'd even grabbed my macro which would be great for these butterflies...

But I left my camera battery fully charged in the charger in my bathroom at the house an hour away.

Sad. 

At least I have my iPhone so I can share this.  He was soooo amazing.

The largest of the Umbracle's dinosaurs, the T-Rex at the midway point of the tour.

There are dinosaurs in Valencia...
No need to fear.  They are "interesting" and great for young enthusiasts, but no one will run away in fright for these rubbery creatures look more B movie than Hollywood thriller and watching their fingers jiggle like yesterday's flan is more than laughable.

The robotic dinos move their heads and limbs while boxes behind them blare distorted bellows.  The giant T-Rex's entire torso jiggles as if he'd just swallowed a pack of toads. 


Still, if you are a little boy or have a hankerin' for the warped battle cry of a prehistoric reptile, this might be right up your ally.  Or if you're me and want to get her three youngest girls out of the house and into a pack of their own... 

The Umbracle is a 6000 meter garden under a web of graceful white arches designed by Calatrava as part of Valencia's City of Arts and Sciences.  Normally, it's free to stroll through the garden of bushes and palms, but last week this pack of spray-painted rubber moved in and now the public must pay to see hear the battle cry of the Velociraptor.

We are members, fortunately, so we don't have to pay which is good because I wouldn't. 

But my girls enjoyed it.  They skipped around, pointed, got excited at the loudest of the 'saurs, and didn't seem to mind the sweltering heat that made sweat stains on shirts around me.  Yuck.

An hour was enough, more than enough, and we headed for the cool of the Hemispheric - the planteterum/IMAX theater where we saw the new Arabia film which told the history of Saudi Arabia while making us slightly ill with the flying scenes.  Beautiful Napatian ruins from Saudi's first golden age danced across the screen.  Stunning.  Makes me want to go and explore these cities once made great by the sale of Frankinscence to the Romans before Catholicism.  Strange to think that a change in religion could have such a dramatic affect, but the entire civilization collapsed when the Roman empire started worshiping one God instead of twenty.  No more frankinscence in the temples.  No more need for the precious commodity that literaly grew on trees.  The development of Saudi Arabia now points to the possiblity of a third golden age and for their sake, I hope it happens.  It's surreal and quite sad to see complete civilizations so built up and full of knowledge just to end and slip backwards into an intellectual void.

From Saudi to the stars, we decided to head to the Science Museum here to see the new Star Trek exhibit that just opened today.  So new in fact that several reporters stood in different areas with their microphones talking to the camera filming them.  This is the first time that this amazing collection of Star Trek stuff has been outside of the United States and though I'm not a Trekkie by any stretch, I do appreciate the quality of the collection - uniforms, amazing original artwork and concept designs, the Starship Enterprise itself as well as several other models, the cockpit of the Enterprise where visitors can actually sit in the seats, weapons, the transporter, and so much more.   I am now the envy of my Trekkie friends and my children have now sat in the captain's chair of the Klingon vessel. 

The science museum itself is like most where in order to enjoy it, you really need to be willing to read the plaque, understand it, explain it well to your kids, then hope that it isn't broken.  And, like most, sadly, many things don't seem to work.  Still, we wandered and tried a few things.  We saw a mouse.  It's a bit disconcerting that 90% of our DNA is identical to that of a little white rodent in a wheel.  But then, some days are like that.

Downstairs is the Marvel Comics  exhibit, a permanent display that explains that science behind the superpowers.  The Spiderman area had a climbing wall where kids tried to climb sideways like a spider does and six swings to hang on.  The combined weight on the six strings was displayed on the screen.  It would take 1455 kilograms to break the ropes as is.  Even with 6 large people dangling there, it wouldn't even come close.  It those same ropes were made from spider's silk, it would take 17,045 to break them.  Crazy.

I've never read a Marvel Comic.  Though I've become addicted to Smallville, I'm really not a comic book person, but seeing it blown up to poster size, it's really kind of cool.  I love the style and colors and giggle at the words like "Wahboom Bada Boom." My girls liked it too.

When it comes down to it, I had a bit of America today, so "boy stuff" or not, it was familiarity and that in itself is comforting.  Star Trek and Marvel Comics... can't get much more American than that.
 

Could it be that almost 5 of my daughter's formative years spent in countries that don't have flouride in their water supply have finally taken their toll?   Arianna had two tiny cavities filled today.

She squirmed a little, but remained quiet.  She wiggled her feet.  I could see her face changing.  I put out my hand and she squeezed it really tightly every time the dentist drilled.

Nothing was given for pain.  I asked if they would. 

     "No, it doesn't hurt.  She's just sensitive to the cold."

At the end, they drew a lovely little picture showing me how the drill only went into the enamel and enamel doesn't have nerve endings.  They didn't touch the dentin, so pain medicine wasn't necessary.  Arianna shook her head.  She knows what pain is.  Sigh.  So let's not have any more cavities, ok?


We came home to a flurry of activity to pull the house together and whip up a nice lunch for friends.  I'd made tiramisu the night before - my summer favorite requiring no oven and no heat.  I took pictures... recipe to follow.  Make, eat, enjoy... just brush your teeth really well afterwards, ok?  We don't want any more cavities.

In today's news, Arianna and Luci had their third piano lesson which are wildly successful because a) the girls really are talented and love the piano and b) we've managed to find a wonderful bilingual teacher who enjoys teaching them so much that he's asked if he can come 15 minutes early next week so he spend a bit more time with them.

Our piano is in our elongated dining room near the kitchen, so during these lessons, I find myself there as I am then close enough to listen and to be available if needed, but far enough away to allow space and prevent myself from being a distraction.

What to do in the kitchen?  Cook.

Today was Turkish.  So I pulled out my little stripey notebook that I keep in my purse... a notebook of much knowledge and goodness from trips and cooking with friends.  Frankly, I'm concerned that some day I'll loose little stripey, so it's time to get these recipes down... hence this post.  :)  Lucky you.




Ingredients:

• 1 onion, minced
• 1 cup rice, rinsed
• 3 t. dried mint +
• 1 t. black pepper +
• 2 1/2 t. dill
• 1 t. thyme
• 1 t. salt
• 2 T. tomatoe paste
• 1 cup ground beef or lamb
• 1/4 cup olive oil +

Instructions:

1. Mix onion and rice together.
2. Add the spices and salt.
3. Mix the tomato paste, meat, and oil in a separate bowl.
4. Combine rice and meat mixtures and blend well.
5. Boil 2 cups of water.
6. Add the meat mixture.  Return to boil.
7. Turn heat down to low and cover.  
8. Cook 20 minutes or until meat is cooked through and rice is tender.
9. Serve alone, use as a stuffing, or serve with Kisir.

Notes:  Like many recipes that I learn from friends, I learn from watching.  Senay knows by the look, the feel, and the smell if she has enough mint of not.  She doesn't measure. She sprinkles or dumps, them may add a bit more.  It's all an estimation.  And so is this recipe.  I've put here what I have in my stripey notebook.  The first time I made this dolma stuffing, I followed it almost exactly and it was very good.  Now, I sprinkle or dump the spices.  I've learned that being heavy handed is good.  When it is all mixed together you should see a lot of green and you will smell a strong herb smell.  It is a good thing.  Tonight, I made a double batch, but did it in two separate batches.  The first, I followed this, may be adding a bit more mint.  The second, I also added about 1-2 T. of ground cumin.  Amazing.  The version with cumin is fabulous.  In future efforts, I'll omit the cumin for the part I use to stuff the zucchini, but will add cumin for any extra stuffing that gets cooked separately. 




Ingredients:

• 1 cup Bulgar or Cous Cous
• 3/4 cup green onions, chopped
• 1/4 cup parsely, chopped
• 1 cup iceburg lettuce, julienned
• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 T. paprika paste
• 1 T. tomatoe paste
• Juice of one lemon
• 2 t. mint
• 1 t. cumin
• salt and pepper to taste 
• pomogranite juice (optional)

Instructions:

1. Put the bulgar or cous cous in a large bowl and add 1 1/2 cup boiled water.  Let sit for three minutes.  Fluff, then cool.
2. Cool oil, paprika paste, and tomato paste together on medium heat for 5 minutes stirring often.
3. Add the lemon juice to the bulgar
4. Mix in spices and tomato mixture into the bulgar.
5. Mix in the onions, parsely, and lettuce
6. Sprinkle with pomogranite juice 
7. Serve

Notes:  Like most recipes, this changes according to who cooks it.  I had it first at Senay's home without the parsely or lettuce and with much fewer spices.  It was delicious then.  But then I went to Funda's home who also had a delicious version.  Her's has a few extra ingredients and so I follow hers, but always change it a bit depending on what I have in the fridge.

• Senay uses celery instead of parsely and lettuce.  She also adds thyme instead of mint and leaves out the cumin.  
• Paprika paste is a wonderful ingredient used in Hungarian and Turkish cooking, so it's worth finding; however, don't miss on this cool summer salad just because you don't have the paste.  Just double the tomato paste and if you want a bit of spice, sprinkle some dried paprika into the mixture and blend well.  Stir frequently while cooking.  Paprika burns quickly.

Ingredients:

• 2 T. Sea salt
• 3 T. Mint
• 1 T. Thyme
• 2 T. Oregano
• 1 t. Black Pepper
• 1 T. Lemon zest, chopped
• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• Olive oil
• Chicken breasts, thin fillets

Instructions:

1. Combine the first 6 ingredients in a small bowl and mix together well.
2. Heat 2 t. olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat.
3. Sprinkle the herb mixture over each side of the chicken fillet and cook until lightly browned, 2 minutes on each side.  (Time depends on hot thick your chicken is.  I buy 1/4" fillets.)
4. Add 1-2 t. lemon juice with each batch of chicken as it cooks.  Add more olive oil as needed and continue to deglaze the pan with lemon juice as it dries.
5. Serve with tsaziki and the two Turkish dishes above.  ;) 

So, today... my girls play piano and I cook... a lot... these three plus a pasta sauce and tomorrow's tiramisu.   A hot, humid and sweaty, yet amazingly zen afternoon in my little kitchen.

My          in  ter  n  et       is     so     s l o w     that   I'm      af r ai d        that    it     m i ght     take      a    full     ye ar     ju st     to    cr  ea te   a    bl og      post     any    lo n g e r          th  an         t h i s. 

Y o u          w  a n t    p h ot  os?  ? ?     C  o u l d         be     two     y e a r s.       I  am   l iv i n g      in   a     t h i r d     w o r l d      c  ou n   t  ry      as       far         as      i n  t e r n e t     is    co n c e r n e d.

A  l  l        th r ou   gh             a         p h o n e     l i n e.


Argh.

I get it.  We’ve lived here now for a full year but I’ve what I only understood from an intellectual standpoint I now really get.  It’s no longer crazy or insane.  It no longer frustrates me.  Now, after this week, it absolutely makes sense.  Perfect sense. 

Because this week was hot.  Africa hot with a side of Mojave.  Drippy humid, heavy air that forces you to breath a bit more consciously.  That stepping out of the shower, drying off, and yet standing there hot and sticky as if you never did kind of energy sucking parasitic sauna. 

Last year was steamy too, but we were new and staying at a house with a pool where we lounged everyday.  Last year we were moving into this house and a bit distracted. 

Until now we’ve never really seen the late night Spanish culture in action.  How can you when the kids are in bed before it even starts? 

But tonight, Tiara had a party and Kirk’s flight was delayed.  We had some time to kill and I planned to watch the fireworks on this Gran Nit de Julio.  We’d planned to break the bedtime rules anyway.  So in a lull between taxi duties, we found ourselves at Heron City where at 9:15, we got on of the last parking spots.

Heron City is a “mall,” or at least it appears like one, but when you walk inside, you find a large movie theater covering the upper open floor of one semicircle with a huge food court and a collection of children's rides on the bottom floor.  The other semicircle is a large collection of restaurants with fountains and more rides in the middle.  There really is no shopping there at all.

We heard music as we walked up.  The place was packed.  Restaurants set up trying to lure people in.  The lines for the theater wound long.  Carousels and trampoline things, electronic horse rides and other children’s activities were surrounded by entire families and children of all ages.  The line at Burger King - out the door.  The theater lines - even longer.

This is the high time of the day.  The kids were so excited.  The air felt cool and the ambiance festive like we’re attending a party or outdoor festival.  A band tuned their guitars and did microphone tests.  We only had a little time to kill so we sat to order nearly raw hamburgers (gross) at Don Juan’s.  The girls got up to watch the band and danced when U2’s Beautiful Day was played. 

It’s amazing.  By 10:15 when we were leaving, the entire place was packed and cars were following people out to their cars as no empty spots remained. 

But the air was finally cool after a week of miserable.  At 10:15 it actually felt comfortable outside.  Not hot nor cold - perfect.  You could see the relief in people’s faces as they enjoyed the time.  I even ran into a Spanish friend.  It felt so normal - like running into a friend at the mall at 2 in the afternoon.  Smiles, kisses, and quick conversation.  Late is the time to exist here.  It’s the only time you can tolerate the hot without laying in a pool or the sea. 

And so taxi duties return and I drive around Valencia with a new awareness of the “life” I’ve missed this last year...

And a new realization of why Valencia’s fireworks displays don’t begin until midnight.

Fireworks:  Gran Nit del Julio

I parked at Port Soplaya.  Most of the parking lot was packed at 11:45, but we found a spot at Leroy Merlin. the Home Depot of Spain.

The beach was black.  Through the trickle of light from a streetlamp, I could see four faces bouncing around in the water.  People were swimming.  Didn’t seem smart.  The only other thing visible on the beach below were the tiny red and blue lights that the fishermen tie to their poles that would be otherwise invisible.

In contrast, the boardwalk above held another party, yet a quieter one.  Family and friends sat around folding tables, eating, drinking, playing cards...  Elaborate picnics, wine bottles, real glass wineglasses... family and friends kicked back relaxing in the folding chairs they brought along.  Kids ran and played.   We had 10 minutes to wait.

We waited north of where the fireworks would start unsure of where I’d park if we went closer and not willing to explore the area that late at night.  They'd be set off at the port somewhere lost in that row of lights ahead. 

Midnight begins one of several large fireworks displays this month as part of the Feria de Julio - a celebration to keep spirits up during the hottest month in Valencia.

Valencians have a thing for fireworks.  They use them for weddings and birthdays, bull runs and communions, anniversaries and holidays of all kinds.  If there is a reason to smile, then by all means, we must have fireworks.

And they’re big.  Here, every firework display is on grand scale like the 4th of July events in the states, but often, even bigger.  These are by far the best, most elaborate displays that I’ve seen - ever.  Usually I watch them from my balcony and even from 20 kilometers away they’re impressive.  Today we were closer and all we could think about was how much closer we want to be.  So varied in colors and shapes.  Patterns and just the grandness of it all.  We want to be under it next time.  Close enough to hold our ears after each deafening boom.

Leaving... the boardwalk had been full.  Groups of people still sat there with folding tables, picnics,  glasses, bottles of wine.  Crowded and alive after midnight.

There wasn't a hurry to leave.  Some started moving towards the parking lot.  Many sat relaxing under the stars listening to the sound of the crashing surf.  Some still swam in the ocean.  The fisherman still manned their rods.  It's a different world here.  And though I can’t live this every day, it’s nice on a Saturday to bend the rules and take part in this life that is later.

My friend, Maria, knows a Moroccan woman who says that in her hometown, they sleep in the day.  Stores are open at 10pm and stay open until 6am.  Life happens at night. 

I get it.   Hey, Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Meal planning:  I decide on my nectarine wraps and a delicious chicken saltimbocca.  Tiara makes her linguine with lemon and cream and a salad.  Tiramisu for dessert.  We realize the day of that three of our dishes contain prosciutto.  Oops.  No need for worry though - it all turned out beautiful and absolutely delicious.  No photos for this one... can't take photos with new boss at the table.  But trust me, it looked just as delicious as it tasted.

1. Halve nectarines. (My nectarines don't come apart well, so I just cut them as best I can)
2. Grill the nectarines for about 5 minutes.
3. Cut into quarters.
4. Take one nectarine quarter and add one fresh basil leaf, one slice of fresh mozzarella cheese, then wrap it up in thinly sliced prosciutto.
5. Drizzle balsamic vinegar lightly over the plate of wraps. (A balsalmic reduction is even better:  Put 1/2 cup balsalmic vinegar in a saucepan over medium-high heat.  Stir until reduced by half.  Watch it.  It burns quickly and turns to a tar-like substance.)

• 8 Thin chicken filletes or chicken breasts pounded with a mallet until they are  1/8 - 1/4" thick.  (Luckily, I can buy mine filleted already from the store so that one breast is sliced horizontally into 4-5 pieces.  It's a beautiful thin.  No pounding required)
• 16-24 thin slices of prosciutto  (I usually have more chicken and just use one piece of prosciutto per slice of chicken)
• 2 tablespoons rubbed sage
• 1/2 cup flour
• 4 tablespoons olive oil
• 8 tablespoons butter
• 1/4 marsala (dry sherry works in a pinch)
• 1 cup chicken broth

Directions:

1. Put the flour and sage in a bowl or dish long enough to dredge the chicken in and mix well.  Add a bit of pepper to taste.
2. Lay 1-3 slices of prosciutto on top of each slice of chicken gently pressing it onto the chicken so that it sticks. 
3. Carefully place the chicken with the prosciutto stuck to it into the flour mixture.  Turn to coat.  Set aside.
4. Heat 2T oil and 2T butter in a 12" skillet over medium-high heat.  
5. Add half of the chicken (I usually just add 2-3 pieces at a time - what ever will fit in a single layer in my pan) and cook, turning once untl the prosciutto side is a bit crisp and the chicken side is lightly browned, about 1 minute per side.
6. Transfer the chicken to a paper-towel lined plate and repeat with the remaining pieces until it's finished.
7. Drain and discard the oil and butter from the skillet.  Place the skillet over high heat this time.  Add marsala.  Cook, scraping up browned bits, and reduce by half, 1-2 minutes.
8. Add broth and reduce by half - about 3 minutes.
9. Stir in remaining 4T butter and reduce the heat to medium.
10. Return the meat to pan.  Cook, turning occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly, 1-2 minutes.
11. Serve topped with a few leaves of fresh rucola and aside the lemon and cream linguine below.

Ingredients:

• 1 T. butter
• 8 slices prosciutto or ham cut crosswise into strips
• 1 cup chicken or vegetable broth
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
• 4 t. lemon zest, minced
• freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 1/2 lb. dry linguine
• 1 cup parmesan cheese, grated
• lemon zest for garnish

Directions:

• Saute prosciutto in melted butter in a large saute pan over medium heat.
• Add broth and cook 1 minute.
• Stir in cream, lemon juice, and zest.  Reduce heat to low and cook for 2 minutes, then season with pepper.  Keep the sauce covered and warm whil cooking the pasta.
• Prepare linguine according to package directions.  Drain; transfer to the pan with the sauce and stir over medium heat to incorporate.
• Off heat, stir in cheese.
• Transfer to a serving platter and garnish with additional lemon zest.

Add a nice green salad with a home made oil and vinegar dressing and a small bowl of green olives to munch on.  Tiramisu for dessert and voila!  Full, happy bellies, Italian style.

Remember the Gripe of the Day last week when the credit card machine wouldn't work???  And I'd gone to get cash, but the large amount of money that was in the account had vanished in the 24 hours since I'd checked it last and just 24 hours before I was going to the bank to reload the account anyway?

Apparently in that interim 24 hours when my account sat empty, my cell phone company decided to take their payment.  They got one - Tiara's, but sadly the payments for Kirk's and my phone were declined.

This is how bills are paid here.  You receive a statement, yes, but by that time the money is usually gone.  See, here, like in Germany, when you set up a service, you give them your bank account numbers so that when you owe money, they just take it.  Ahh, the joy of having no control over your money.

So last Monday, Kirk's phone stopped working.  No phone, no internet.  On Tuesday my phone stopped working, so on Wednesday, I called Movistar was hung up on twice, then finally got someone to help me and 5 minutes of repeating myself later, got him to understand me.  I needed to go to the post office to make the payment.  The post office closes at 1415. I'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Thursday I went to the post office armed with cash, our phone numbers, our Spanish resident ID card numbers, and the amounts due.  Could I pay them both together?  No.  They had to be paid separately even though they are under the same account.  I tried to pay a bit more (just to make sure).  Nope, the computer only accepts the exact amount - neither a penny more nor less.  After 5 attempts, the lady was finally able to get my payment to work.  48 hours later, I'd have phone service.  72 hours later my internet would work again.

Kirk's information however, wouldn't work.  At first she was turning my sevens into ones because we write them differently.  I caught that mistake and watched her carefully.  We tried both resident numbers.  We tried different amounts.  Finally she gave up.  Last time, she said.  It didn't work.

I called Movistar when I got home.  Took 5 minutes to explain that I was calling for my husband's phone not mine.  I double checked the information.  It was correct.

Friday morning I went back to the post office with a newly neatly written paper with all of the information printed in the Spanish style with ones and sevens overly legible.  We tried again - 5, 6 times.  Didn't work.

So on Friday while waiting for our turn to go into the caves, I called movistar again.  Rechecked all the numbers.  They are all correct.  What do I do?  Can't I just go to the Movistar store and pay?  No.  The only way to pay is at the post office which I've been trying for two days without success or through a bank transfer.

So, on Saturday, I request a special code that will allow me to make transfers from my computer and go through a series of confirmation numbers that are sent to my phone from my bank.  And eventually, I am able to make the payment, but it's yet to be seen if my husband will have phone service or not.

I love Spain.  I love living abroad and experiencing new cultures.  I consider most inconveniences just part of the journey.  But I draw the line at money issues.  Yeah, I'm here and I have to deal with it, but the backwards ways in which things happen with banks and business... the ability for companies to take money from an account before I even receive a statement or warning.  It's just rediculous.

And here ends the gripes for a while.  May be it's just the heat.  But I am thankful through and through for the freedom and control that I have over my money in the states.  It's a beautiful thing.

There are guidebooks and travel sites, but sometimes the best tips are from locals, after all, we found out about Bejis from a friend and it was absolutely amazing.

After the cave trip on Friday, we stopped at our local coffee shop.  Santi saw the postcard that Elise carried with her from the chapel in Val D'Uixo, so he asked if we'd been there and that began a lively conversation about it.  He admitted that the 40 minute cave trip was too short which is why, he says, that he goes every summer so that he can see it again.  "Every time I go, I see something new."  The positive, according to Santi who's watched the changes at the caves his entire life, is that "thousands of people go though those caves, but you don't see it.  There's no garbage.  No graffiti.  It's controlled, so it's nicer now."

"Have you been to Navajas?"  I shook my head.

Nope.  Not yet.  It was almost closing time and we were the last people there.  Santi is always animated.  He can't talk without smiling and using his hands, so in this way, he tells us about two more villages in the mountains on the way to Teruel that are "just like Bejis."  Santi is a cook, but I think he'd be a fantastic tour guide.  His father, who is very kind, but whose smile doesn't come quite as naturally, actually smiles and nods and adds a few details.

The conversation progresses to their family and the shop.  I learn that Santi's dad was a farmer and only became a baker making all the breads at our cafe when his two sons both became cooks and they decided to create a family business together.  He doesn't sleep, says Santi.  He gets up at 3 and comes to the bakery to cook - a great job in the winter when he can stand there in front of the hot ovens without sleeves, but in the summer?  Horrible which is why he is ready for his 1 month vacation... but where will I go for coffee?  :(

Navajas stuck in my mind.  We got home and I looked it up.  Only thirty minutes from my house, it is where young lovers go for summer romance.  We're not exactly summer romance, but it's worth a visit.

Today we went.  But only briefly.

The negative to getting info from a local is that often it's incomplete.  I had a name.  That's it.  Navajas.  No address, no directions, nada.

Navajas was easy to find and the town itself, should I wish to go back, is very charming and would probably produce some nice pictures.  The little river meets it, then curves around and out again sort of like approaching a roundabout and taking that exit that is directly ahead.

We drove through the town, but didn't know where to go and there are no signs that point to "beautiful lovers spot in the river."  Not even in Spanish.

I consulted my phone, found the river, then found a spot, but I have yet to find out if it is "the" spot.  The rocks come down on one side and flatten out providing a perfect place to sit, throw your towel, and relax.  There's a short falls, some tiny rapids around large boulders, a calm shallow area snaking through thick shrubbery that grows in the water, another falls, and so on. It's pretty. The water is cold, but looks clean.  But... but....

There's algae.  It's not crystal clear as in Bejis, but murky enough that you can't see the bottom.  The large rocks are uneven and unpredictable.  There is no level place where we can stop and play except for one algae covered cement slab that looks like it was place there to act like a road.  The water is only 2" flowing over it into another falls. The girls are allowed to play here... just briefly.

It would be a great spot for teens with inner tubes... but for my three little ones... just not safe enough, though I heard the contrary in loud arguements until we were in the car and on the way home.  Too late for anything else.  They have piano lessons today.

May be another day we'll find "the" place to go in Navajas.  I'm not sure we did, but it was an outing nonetheless and worth a try.

I would like to write something deeply moving and sentimental, but the whirrrr of the fan is putting me to sleep and the heat in my office has melted away any remaining shreds of creativity.  Add the high volume yelling downstairs between my evens and interruptions every five minutes and you have one worn out me.

Sad because I'd really like to convey just how absolutely amazing my now 15 year old really is.

We laugh as if we're sisters, we talk like two old friends, she 'gets me' like no other, and yet I have all the pride of a mom because I am her mom and I am proud of the incredible young woman she's become.

Today was her day.  And she required three things:  to sleep in, to watch the last game of the World Cup in Engish at home in her jammies, and to have candles on this cake.  Not difficult at all.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup packed brown sugar (1/2 cup)
• 1/2 cup butter (1/4 cup)
• 2 tablespoons water (1T)
• 2 (29 ounce) cans sliced peaches, drained  (I used fresh nectarines.  Apples would be great too)
• 12 (3/4 inch thick) slices day-old French bread
• 6 eggs
• 1/2 cup milk  (great with a bit of cream)
• 1/2 cup sliced almonds (any nut will do)
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1 pinch ground cinnamon, or to taste

   NOTES:  I used the original portions for the caramel sauce, but it was entirely too much.  I would make this again, but half the caramel and experiment with different fruit/nut combinations and even change the extract.  This has real potential.

The Dutch will be eating octopus tomorrow for dinner in "honor" of Paul who correctly predicted all the world cup wins (and losses) this year including tonight's loss to Spain.  The Germans had octopus last week when they lost to Spain.  Seems Paul will be getting hate mail soon... he might consider a move back to England where he came from.

If you haven't been following soccer then you may think it odd that anyone would eat octopus, but this cephalopod at Sea Life in Oberhausen, Germany has been making a lot of predictions and many believe (or at least play at believing) that he's psychic.  Just "google" Paul the Octopus and you'll get the full story.  It's pretty crazy. 

I have been to Sea Life in Oberhausen.  It's only an hour from where I lived in Germany, but sadly, I don't remember Paul and don't have a photo to post.  May be he was in hiding then... who knows who's fall he may have predicted, but it's not his fault, he's right, is it?

Anyway... we were wearing orange in honor of the Dutch... we do love that country.  But, living in Spain the year they win is pretty nice too.  The whistle blew and fireworks could be seen all along the horizon in all directions from here in our neighborhood all the way to Valencia and beyond.  Yelling, car horns, and one man loudly, in heavily accented English, declaring "champions of the world!!!!"

Congratulations, Spain.  It was a game well played.

Vall D'Uixo is a small village just off the old A-7 (not the AP7) about 30 minutes north of Puzol known mostly for the caves of Saint Joseph where a subterranean river flows.

It's one of the first places that I heard about when we moved hear last year and so for almost a year now it's been on my list of things to do on a day that's too hot or too cold because inside the caves, the temperature remains a comfortable 20 degrees C. all year.

So today we finally went and realized how silly it was to wait because it's so easy to get to and so close to our house.

The parking lot wasn't too full which was nice.  A old man with only half his teeth tried to direct us into a tiny spot half the size of my van then wandered around and blew his whistle at nothing.  We parked in a different spot and were happy that he didn't seem to care. 

Across a small bridge, there's a swimming pool, an upscale restaurant, and go-karts.   We found the ticket counter under the shade of trees past a long line of cafes, souvenir shops, and the restaurant inside of the cave.  The tours run every 45 minutes and we'd just missed the first, so we waited there, I made another phone call to my cell phone company (story coming) and chatted with a Maltese man who heard me speaking English and was excited to chat.  They speak English and Maltese in Malta and he was disappointed that so few Spanish here speak English.

As we entered, a lady pointed out pigments left from old cave paintings, then another area of rock that are obscenely old.  Water trickled down one wall into a small pond.  Kids put their hands into the cool water there and ran them across the wall.  A flashing sign above said "NO PHOTOGRAPHY."  The lady talking repeated "NO PHOTOGRAPHY."  We entered one of several boats filling up with people.  I asked... with out flash???  "No images."  Sigh.

I'm flustered because they allow anyone to touch the stalagmites which can stop their growth completely, but won't allow a flashless photo which will harm nothing.  Doesn't make sense.

The river that runs inside these caves is perfectly clear and calm so that you can see down to the floor beneath and the reflections of the cave formations in the water are absolutely beautiful in places.  The boat takes us through narrow tunnels where we all have to duck our heads.  I'm continually watching for Arianna and Luci and moving their heads with my arm.  Arianan's flustered and repeatedly tells me that I don't have to worry.  One stalagmite hangs down right in the center of the tunnel, so we duck to the outside as it goes down the middle of the boat.  The tourguide touches it for good luck.

The tunnels open up into huge rooms - the bat room full of dark holes where bats lived 20 years ago, the "cathedral" full of huge stalagtites hanging down, the largest one 3 meters long.  One is called the Medusa - it looks just like a jellyfish.

The boat docks and we disembark and follow a trail through the dry part of our journey without guides, a long line of people just walking and looking.  It moved a little too fast.  That's my second gripe.  At the end of our tour it was 40 minutes.  Just 40 minutes!  With hardly enough time to look and see or take it in.  It's too short.  The walk through the dry area was full of some stunning things in different shapes and colors, but the pace was too fast.  I would have liked to slow down and really see it.  My one photo was taken with my iPhone... not great, but at least my phone isn't as obvious.  I had to get one photo though it doesn't do it justice.


We get back on the boats farther up stream and then take them back to the beginning seeing some new things and some repeats.   Stunning caves, but too little time.


At the top of the stairs by the exit is a small chapel and a worthless museum.  The The Ermita Sagrada Familia is pretty although my girls might argue that it's not worth the hike up the stairs on a hot day.  The museum next door costs 1 euro, but has little more than a collection of new paintings from 2009-2010 and a room full of priestly garb.  Yawn.  Hardly worth the euro.


I made it up to the girls by taking them to my favorite coffee shop for something cold and a light snack.  A couple hours of rest and we finished the day at the club for a few hours of swimming and chatting with friends.