The school year didn’t finish until July 17th, which was half-way through the summer for us.  The school calendar vaguely resembles a year-round schedule, but there are also more school days in the UK than the U.S.  

In the last week of school each of the kids had an assembly centered on a country they had been learning about in the last term. Cameron – Nigeria, Eli – Turkey, Miriam & Simon – Sri Lanka.  

(Some of these pictures are from my phone and some are from my camera, so it’s mixed quality.)

On the last day of school all the children dressed in their costumes and they did a parade around the neighborhood.  It was really fun to watch and they had loud music and the kids were just so hyper about summer that everyone was having a fab time.  

I had no idea how difficult it was going to be for Cameron to make this transition from his school in Kuna to Lucas Vale.  I completely underestimated the way it would affect him.  For one thing- Kuna is rural Idaho. Reed Elementary had sprawling grassy fields and the school itself was spread out and spacious.  Lucas Vale is classic inner city, no grass anywhere, tall brick building with a concrete playground.  The kids at Reed Elementary come from families that more or less are very similar to Cameron’s family, and most of them come from conservative often religious families.  For lack of a better word, they are sheltered. (And I mean that in a good way, protected and innocent.)  The new kids Cameron was meeting were city kids, a little rough around the edges  with older siblings, and I think he heard bad language and jokes that were shocking and uncomfortable for him.  In Kuna he had friends from church and friends from the football team he’d played on for three years.  He had so much in common with his classmates.  At Lucas Vale he didn’t know anyone.  No one cared about American football.  His world was turned completely upside down.  Then to top it all off, he became completely overwhelmed and anxious about a new curriculum, new academic styles and programs and he was behind.  

The first few months I think each day Cameron went to school with a knot in his stomach.  But he really blossomed.  He made friends, he learned about the sports here that really mattered. (Soccer/football and cricket.)  He picked up really quickly on the differences between educational processes here and with the help of good teachers he really excelled.  He began to appreciate the diversity,  and I think, he even felt some gratitude for it.  I’m really proud of him.  

I had expected that the transition would be the hardest on Eli because of his introverted nature.  But on the first day of school, in a moment of what must have been divine inspiration, Mrs. Hassan paired Eli up with Kayden to show him around and help him find his way.  They have been inseparable ever since.  Of course they occasionally have their little quarrels, but it’s always short-lived and they are back at each other’s side.   Eli doesn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve like Cameron does, so it was harder for me to tell how he was really feeling about Lucas Vale and his school experience. But in general he seemed to just take things as they came, and he really adapted well.  He was a little behind as well, like Cameron he had to learn how to write in connectives and adopt new ways of learning.  By the end of the year he had caught up to where he needed to be, and then some.  He was in the chess club and he and Cameron both were in a math club.  

The extent of Mim’s schooling prior to moving to London was four hours a week of co-op preschool.  So to go into full seven-hour days was a lot for her.  Sometimes she cried and begged me to stay home.  She really wanted to be in Simon’s school, which was only three hours and was mostly just free-flow learning through play.  When she was AT school she was happy and social and I could tell she enjoyed it once the day began, but when she came home she was completely exhausted.  

I think it was hard for Mim to find one or two really good friends she could consistently count on to play with, but she has a fun personality and she got along with most of the kids in her class. A lot of the girls in Eli and Cameron’s class loved to dote on the little fair-skinned blonde American girl as well.  When we would go to the park after school there were always older girls who wanted to push her on the swing or play with her.  

Mim learned to read pretty quickly into the school year, which is one of my favorite milestones in my childrens’ lives. I LOVE watching my kids learn to read and discover their new skill that engages them in their world.  She still loves to read the adverts on the bus and all the signs wherever we go.  She is a really great reader, which Richard and I just laugh about because if we were in the states she would just be starting kindergarten this fall.  (I’m pretty sure I’m not attentive enough as a mother to teach my kids to read if they aren’t having it reinforced at school.)  

School for Simon was nothing less than bliss.  It wasn’t mandatory, so if I wanted to keep him home, I did.  But he loved going to school.  He was a bit shy at first, but it didn’t take long for him to steal the hearts of his teachers.  He learned to write his name within the first few weeks of school and just a few other math and letter basics.  He is really excited to start Reception next year.  

What a year! It was intense and long and stressful and overwhelming, but we did it.  I think we’ve all learned so much, and I feel really fortunate to have this experience for myself and my kids. 

A couple Saturdays ago it was supposed to be a really nice day so we picked another one of our City Walks with kids and made a day of it.  Unfortunately it was overcast and muggy, but we would never see London if we only went out on the sunny days.  

After an unusually long journey to our destination, due to DLR closures, we started out at the south end of Hampstead Heath, near the Lido and cafe.  (My friend Meredith lived in London for awhile and when I asked her about it she said it was frustrating to always depend on public transport. I shrugged it off, refusing to believe London had any flaws, but she’s right.  When the trains are shut down for one reason or another it can really put a wrinkle in your plans.)  We let the kids play in a playground for a bit and then we ate lunch at the park cafe.  

Then we walked up through the heath, along the Highgate Ponds.  It was really pretty and we saw some lovely places, but we got lost and didn’t end up at all where we wanted to.  

After awhile the charms of the park were losing their effect and the kids were getting bored and tired of walking. So we played “Red light, Green light” but with a twist.  Richard made all the calls, from behind the kids instead of ahead of them, and he would say things like “Green light for the four year olds” or “Red light if you’re a boy” or “Green light skipping” and so on.  It was pretty entertaining for the kids and us.  

We were trying to make our way to Kenwood House, but that hadn’t worked out. So we caught a bus that took us closer to our destination and we found our way again. 

Kenwood House is a former stately home that was the residence of the 1st Earl of Mansfield, who was the great-uncle of Dido Belle.  She was raised at Kenwood House along with her cousin Lady Elizabeth Murray.  It’s a really beautiful house, and is now well-known for its art collection, donated by Edward Guinness.  (So “drink more beer!” the curator said.) 

There was a lot to see in the house, and a lot of great artwork, but the kids were hot and tired and totally spent for the day so we made our way home. 


I’ve added Kenwood House to my list of places to visit without the kids… 

Saturday the three of us drove to the town of Ptuj (pronounced pe-tu-ie), where Sanja’s mom, Silva and her partner, Matjaz live.   Ptuj is the oldest town in Slovenia, believed to be settled in the Stone Age. 

We walked the streets of the town, we went up to the Ptuj Castle, and then we ate gelato.  It was really fun chatting with Silva and Matjaz, and they were excellent hosts.  I really appreciated them spending a Saturday morning with me.  I took so many pictures, and I learned so much, but I’ll save some of those photos and trivia bits for when I write a travel book.  

After our tour of the city, we drove to a couple spots outside the city. One was an ancient Roman temple, but we had to peak through windows because it wasn’t open.  The other was the Church of St. Mary.  It was up on a hill, and there was a stone pathway leading up to the church. Along the pathway there were stone monuments with miniature sculptures depicting moments from the life of Christ.  The inscriptions were in Slovenian but Sanja translated each one for me.  It was really beautiful, and I was really moved by the concept; as you approach the church you feel yourself being drawn closer and closer to the Savior.

After we parted ways with Silva and Matjaz we drove up to the mountain’s to Saso’s parent’s cabin.  We stopped at a grocery store and bought some food that Sanja and Saso grilled.  I think I’m doing cooking all wrong because when I watched Sanja make that meal she made it look so easy.  And it was delicious.  Saso grilled sausages, and they were really good and then we had roasted potatoes, grilled zucchini and peppers, and a salad. A European salad that is, which consists of more vegetables and less dressing. (Oil & vinegar do the trick.) 

We were going to stay the night at the cabin but it was stormy and rainy so we couldn’t enjoy the great outdoors.  We drove back to Celja and watched the Lord of The Rings because I’ve never seen any of them, and they are Sanja’s favorite. 

Sunday we had a few hours before we had to drive back to Trieste for me to catch my flight, so we went to Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia.  (Pronounced Lu-blee-ana. I think.)  The sun was shining, there were people out and about, lots of street musicians and flea markets.  It is a really beautiful city.  

Ljubljana was the perfect finishing note to my visit in Slovenia.  It was full of European charm but not nearly as crowded as major European cities.  Slovenia almost feels like this amazing European secret.  

Saso and Sanja drove me back to Trieste where I waited for my flight home. I was excited to see Richard and the kids again, but I felt completely satisfied.  

I’ve typed a concluding paragraph to sum up my holiday in Slovenia at least four times and they all sound trite. So I’ll leave it at this- it was an amazing, well-rounded vacation and I’ll never forget it.  

Friday morning we drove back down to the river and ate breakfast at a cafe nearby.  We watched a group of kayakers and rafters getting ready for an adventure.  It reminded me so much of Idaho.  The breakfast was really good too, everything tastes better in the mountains.  

Sanja’s boyfriend, Saso (pronounced Sasho) told her about an old road built by Russian soldiers during World War I.  It follows the Soca River up across a mountain pass, and some of the original stones are still found in the switchbacks.  It was the kind of road that would make Eli really carsick, but the views were the well-earned payout. 

Once we made it to the top of the pass we hiked around a bit for better views.  Then we just sat in a meadow and appreciated the majesty. 

We stopped in the city of Bled, where I saw the only Americans I saw during my entire visit to Slovenia. (As far as I could tell.) Americans are pretty easy to identify, mostly because when you hear someone who sounds like you, in a country of people who don’t sound like you, you notice.  Sanja says Bled is a popular Slovenian tourist stop.  There is a really pretty lake there, with a small island that has a church on it.  

We sat by the lake for a bit, and then we did the most important thing you can do in Bled, which is get the famous Bled creme cake. 

We drove from Bled to Celje (pronounced Selya), which is Sanja’s hometown.  It was another pretty drive, but I think I did fall asleep for a bit.  What can I say, I crashed from my sugar high. 

We put up our feet for a bit in Sanja and Saso’s flat, and then the three of us went out to see Celje.  It was really fun having the two of them for tour guides.  

We ate a tasty dinner al fresco, the weather was perfect, and then we drove up to see the castle.  At dusk. Perfect. 

After the castle we drove out of town a little ways to a man-made lake that was really serene.  We took a walk around it but I left my camera in the car so I didn’t take any pictures.  Then we drove back to the town centre per my request for gelato. Then we sat on a bench and had the longest conversation I’ve ever had about bread. 

There are so many things I don’t know I don’t know.  Sanja and Saso laughed at me sometimes, and then I laughed sometimes when they asked if all Americans are preparing for a Zombie apocalypse.  (Reality T.V. at it’s finest…) But really, I think Sanja and I are both curious and intelligent people, and yet we are completely unaware of some fundamental cultural differences.  That is, until we sit down and talk about bread and toast and sandwich bread and real bread and sliced bread and rolls and baguettes and so on and so on…

I loved all the things I got to see and do in Slovenia, but I loved my conversations with Sanja and her family just as much. Sometimes it really feels like my brain is growing. 

And my heart too.  

Predjama Castle was first built in the 13th century, just inside the natural archway of the caves.  It was a brilliant defensive location, and gradually over the next several hundred years it was expanded.  We walked through the castle and I was able to get an audio-guide in English.  The most famous owner of the castle was Erazem, who during the 15th century had made himself an enemy of the Roman Emperor by killing the commander of the Imperial army to avenge the death of a friend.  In retaliation the Emperor ordered Erazem be capture and killed.  The castle was besieged but its strategic location made it impenetrable.  Thinking he would starve them out, the leader of the army waited and waited.  But the castle caves had a secret passage through the mountain and Erazem was able to continuously get supplies from a nearby town  The town was on the opposite, milder side of the mountain where the cherries ripened earlier in the season.  Erazem sent gifts of cherries to the enemy soldiers, who were sure he was using dark magic because there was no other explanation for where the cherries could come from when the nearby cherry trees were clearly still ripening.  Eventually, Erazem was betrayed by one of his servants who accepted a bribe and informed the enemy that the toilet was the weakest part of the fortress, and that Erazem used the toilet at the same time every evening.  Sure enough, a catapult launched a cannonball at the appropriate time, and Erazem was killed.  

Moving on.  

From the castle we drove two or three hours north to the town of Bovec.  Oh my goodness.  This place.  I kept commenting to Sanja that Slovenia reminded me a lot of Idaho, but with more trees and more vibrant rivers.  The drive to Bovec was incredibly scenic, and I wanted to ask Sanja to pull over every fifteen minutes so I could take pictures, but I was too shy so I didn’t.  (And I knew we would never get there if I did.)  It was just these hills covered in dense trees, every shade of evergreen you could imagine, and then these blue mountains, always thinly masked by some wispy white clouds.  All along the way we would pass sheep pastures and farms, brightly painted bee houses (Sanja told me that Slovenia is well-known for it’s bee keeping and honey) and of course quaint towns.  Oh, and we drove along the Soca (pronounced So-cha) River.  You might remember it from this: 

It was a national holiday that day so when we drove into Bovec it was pretty quiet.  We found our hostel, checked in, parked the car and then decided to try to walk to the river.  I was hungry so we made a quick stop at a gas station (desperate times…) but we weren’t sure of the way to the river.  There was only one time that Sanja ever played my tourism card, and it was at this gas station.  She made me ask how to get to the river, which was pretty ineffective but apparently, a really nice [looking] German man over heard me, he and his wife pulled over a ways down the road and offered to drive us to the river.  The 15 minutes it took to drive to the river is a story in and of itself, that involves two Germans, one Slovenian and one American doing their best to communicate, but I’ll have to share it with you in person.  Good laughs and good memories.   I will note- we were eating ice cream bars (dinner of champs) when the couple offered to pick us up and only Sanja had the good sense and good manners to ask if it was alright if we ate our ice cream in their car.  I hope that doesn’t make me a rude American. 

When it started to get dark enough that we worried about finding our way home we walked back across the grassy field that was the local airport landing strip, and back to the hostel.  We watched Narnia just to feel cool that we were there, but we both fell asleep.  

The short version is this:  I met Sanja on the internet a few years ago.  We became pen-pals and as soon as I found out I was moving to London I knew I wanted to meet her in person.  That’s all I’ll say about that, but in case you were wondering, it is apparently, as awkward to say you began a platonic relationship online as it is to say you began a romantic relationship online.  Although the latter is very common and I suppose I can’t say if the former is… 

June just worked out to be the best month, despite it already being busy and Richard knows that once I set my mind to something there’s no going back.  Bless his heart for holding down the fort twice in one month.  

To be totally honest I was really nervous about flying to a completely new country to meet someone I’d only ever “seen” on Facebook.  But as my plane descended over Trieste, Italy I got goosebumps and I just felt #soblessed.  

Sanja picked me up at the airport and she was every bit as kind and intelligent as her emails had let on.  In fact, she taught me so much about Slovenia I wish I had taken notes.   We drove from Trieste across the border back in Slovenia and to the town of Piran, the country’s little stretch of seaside on the Adriatic.  She dropped me off at the city center and went to park the car, leaving me to find our hostel.  That was a bit complicated, and it was hot and I felt like such a geek with my wheelie suitcase but eventually I made it.  After parking the car Sanja just long-boarded from the parking garage back down to the city center.  NBD. She’s cool like that.  

We found a place to eat dinner, walked through the city streets, ate gelato and then watched the sun set over the sea.  It was the stuff my European dreams are made of.  

In the morning we checked out of the hostel and grabbed some breakfast at a shop and then sat in Tartini Square to eat it while we waited for a bus that took us back to the parking garage.  It was already warm outside and the sunshine felt so good.  

We drove to see the salt fields, where the tide is let in, a dam is placed, and as the water evaporates salt is harvested.  Then we went for a swim in the Adriatic Sea, which was really nice.  

After our swim, and some relaxation in the sunshine we drove up to Postojna Cave.  I’ve seen caves before, I mean come on, I’m from Kuna. But I was not expecting caves like this.  We rode in a little train as far into the caves as we could, and then we walked even deeper.  It was 22km of caves total.  And it was gorgeous! It was like walking through a sculpture garden, but completely naturally occurring sculptures.  

The caves were really rad.  The colors of all the different sculptures and stalactites and stalagmites were really beautiful and I just couldn’t believe how huge the caves were.  I’m running out of superlatives here.  

From the caves we drove to the Predjama Castle but I’ll save that for the next post.  It seemed like every time we drove from one place to another I would get really sleepy, but I never wanted to fall asleep because I was always afraid of missing more beautiful scenery.  

Sunday morning we took it easy and slept in a bit.  We packed up and dressed up and drove to church in a nearby town.  We got there midway through the first meeting so we stayed until midway through the second meeting. I really love going to church in other countries.  

As I was listening to the accent of the speakers I kept thinking “I know this accent” and finally I figured out where I knew it from.  Simon’s favorite cartoon in London has been Fireman Sam, which as it turns out is a Welsh cartoon.  I’m slowly getting better at identifying various British accents (including Australian, New Zealand and South African) and my trick is just knowing someone from each place and hearing their voice in my head.  

There was a bicycle race taking place everywhere we were trying to go on that day, so we wound up on back country roads, working our way south toward Cardiff.  It was quite an adventure.  There were tall hedges on either side of the road, which was really only wide enough for one car. So when we encountered another car there was a lot of maneuvering and branches scraping along the sides of the car.  But we did see some really lovely countryside with charming cottages and farms. And lots of sheep.  

We drove through central Cardiff but that bike race… It was late afternoon by then and we decided to begin our journey back to London.  Just before crossing the Bristol Channel again we stopped at Tintern Abbey, which is the ruins of an old abbey built in another gorgeous valley.  

The drive back to London was lovely until we got to the greater London area, and then the kids were restless and the adults were exhausted and we were all quite ready to be done with driving! Unfortunately no drive through London is easy and it took awhile to get back to our house- but we made it at last, way past bedtime, and I let the kids sleep in the next morning.  

While Richard was in the United States for a work conference and a quick trip home to Boise, my parents and I took the kids to Wales for the weekend.  It worked out well because we could only fit seven passengers in our car and without Richard, my parents could avoid renting a car.  I picked up the kids from school on Friday and we drove to Andover, where we picked up my parents who had spent the day at and around Stonehenge.  From there we drove across the Bristol Channel and into Wales! 

It was gloomy and rainy and we arrived pretty late so we just went to our hotel in Aberdare and called it a night.  

Saturday morning we had a really satisfying British breakfast at the hotel restaurant.  It was an all-you-can-eat type arrangement with pastries, cereal, yogurt and then traditional English hot foods like ham, sausage, eggs and beans.  It’s interesting to me to watch my kid’s preferences unfold.  Cameron will eat anything and everything, clearing bits of ham and sausage from everyone else’s plates.  He also loves fruit.  Eli on the other hand much prefers things like crumpets, cereal, yogurt and croissants.  He is a carb lover and doesn’t care much for meat.  (The jury is still out on Mim and Simon.) 

It was an impossible task trying to choose a castle to see.  Wales has more castles per capita than any other country.  Unfortunately some of the most amazing ones are along the north coast, which was a bit too far away.  We settled on Caerphilly Castle, which is the largest castle with the largest grounds. 

It rained throughout our visit, not a heavy downpour but a steady drizzle.  The kids didn’t seem to notice, they had been given a scavenger type activity where they looked for clues throughout the castle and grounds.  They really enjoyed it and by the end Cameron and Eli were so into it they wanted to run to each spot.  It was a fun castle because there weren’t many people there and you could explore anywhere and everywhere.  We climbed the tower stairs up to the roof and stuck our heads in all the rooms.  

In the early afternoon we left the castle and drove back up north toward The Big Pit Mine.  I knew the kids would like to see a mine and because my dad’s ancestors are from Wales we’re pretty sure mining is a part of our heritage.  

When we arrived my parents and the three older kids all got tickets to go down inside the mine. Simon was too small (just a hair shy of 100cm) so he and I stayed up above ground.  Afterward my parents said that was for the best, they had to wear hard hats and it was cold and dark down in the mine.  

Simon and I walked through the museum and mine buildings and took photos while we waited for the rest of the gang.  Apparently things weren’t going smoothly and it took them much longer to get down into the mine than originally anticipated, so Simon and I also ate a snack and waiting in the car for a bit.  (Rain.)  

We were all ravenous by the time we left the mine so we drove to the nearest town and found a hokey American style diner for dinner.   From there we drove aimlessly through the Brecon Beacon National Park, which was just completely beautiful.  Since I was driving and we didn’t stop much I didn’t take any photos.  But it was really gorgeous.  Picture, rolling hills, pretty green valleys, lots of sheep and hedges and trees.  We made our way up to a little town called Hay-on-Wye, which is known for its outdoor book stores.  (Well, really for its excessive number of book stores, in general.) Unfortunately everything was closed for the day, so we drove down to see the rive Wye, and then drove back home to our hotel.  

Friday morning we dragged ourselves out of bed in time to catch a train to the town of Girona, north of Barcelona.  We wanted to get out of the city for a day, but Girona turned out to be bigger than we had imagined.  But it had a slower pace and quieter feel to it.   

On the train we all wanted a window seat so we spread out, but the first 20 minutes were either underground or just graffiti-covered concrete so eventually I fell asleep and slept for a good part of the next hour.  When I woke up I did catch some nice Spanish countryside views. 

From the bus station we walked to a tourist office to get a couple city maps, and then from there walked up to the old city wall.  You can walk along the city wall, which offers great views of the city, and the wall.  

We ate some lunch (I had more tapas…) in a back alley cafe where we were serenaded by a man with an electric guitar.  It was a little much. I preferred the more subtle tunes of the street musicians at the cathedral who played a flute and an instrument that resembled a steel drum but with a more mellow flavor.  It was really lovely. 

After lunch we went to the Jewish museum, which of course was pretty depressing.  Has there ever been a more persecuted people? My goodness.  The town of Girona had a big Jewish population who had a thriving community for hundreds of years before Christianity came along.  Sad stories.  

First things first- after the museum we ate gelato.  Then my parents received some really heartbreaking news that seemed to cast a shadow on the day.  We spent a couple more hours wandering the rabbit warren streets of Girona, popping in and out of cute little shops, before catching a train back to Barcelona.  

We arrived back in Barcelona after 9:00, and a combination of fatigue, hunger, and probably grief left us all in sour moods.  My mom and I found a place to eat and eventually we all found our way back to the hotel.  

The next morning we left first thing for the airport and flew back to London.  Adeu Catalonia!

Thursday morning we left the hotel slightly earlier than the day before, but not much.  There is something about warm-weather vacations that is so refreshing.  Walking through the doors in the morning in short sleeves and feeling the sunshine and the excitement of a new day.  My parents and I all commented on how pleasant the mornings were.  (It seemed we were also our best selves in the morning too…)

We didn’t get breakfast because we wanted to be hungry at Mercat de la Boqueria.  I can’t remember if we walked or took the metro to get there, but once we did it was sensory overload.  Endless fresh fruits and fresh fruit drinks. I think I tried three different kinds of fresh fruit juice.  (The ones with coconut were my favorite.)  We sampled and purchased so many different things including but not limited to cheeses, salami and battered shrimp.  

After the market I split up with my parents for a few hours.  They went and did some more walking and pastry tasting, and I went to a house designed by Gaudi.  I was completely enchanted by Gaudi, and the only explanation I can come up with is that he and I share a deep love for stained glass and tile mosaics.  I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to explore one more of his creations.  

The home was owned by the Batllo family, who wanted to show off their wealth by having Gaudi design something unusual and beautiful.  He showed up, in his usual colorful and a bit eccentric way.  My photos really don’t do it justice, so click here for even more fantastic images. 

It was nice to take a break from the heat inside the house, but as soon as I met back up with my parents I insisted it was time for gelato.  Then we worked our way through the Barcelona Arc de Triomphe, past the cathedral, and made our way down to the beach. We rented bikes and rode 8 kilometers along the coastline, stopping for a bit to dip our toes in the water.  

The bike ride was well-timed.  My feet were tired of walking and the breeze kept us cool.  (My wet jeans from the ocean probably helped keep me cool too…) But by the time we made it back to where we started our bums were tired of riding and our feet were ready for walking again.  

We decided we were ready for dinner so we meandered along the boardwalk to find a restaurant.  Each restaurant had a host standing out front trying to solicit business.  Each restaurant except for Burger King, but boy did I have my mom laughing when I pretended (with my best Spanish accent) to make a sales pitch for why we should choose BK from amongst all the restaurants along the coast, using the same arguments we had heard thus far.  Good times. 

We had more tapas for dinner, we discovered that none of us like sardines, and I felt like a fool after I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out how to turn on the water in the bathroom. (Foot pedal.)  

I really wanted to see the show at the Font Magica de Monjuic, and I kind of made a big deal about it, so we walked to a metro stop and rode a “train” (what’s the word Dad?) up to the top of the hill.  My problem sometimes is that I know just enough to think I know what I’m doing, only to realize I don’t know enough.  I knew the show was on Montjuic, what I didn’t realize was that Monjuic is huge, and we were on the wrong side.  The last show was at 11:00 and it was well past 10:00 so we got desperate and hailed a taxi. He was really nice and took us just where we needed to be.  The show was great in some ways, but I think the Bellagio is better in other ways.  We caught the end of one show and then stayed through most of the next show.  It was a total throwback, the music included all kinds of 70s, 80s, and 90s American rock. Nostalgia is always a nice touch. 

We walked back down the Avenida Maria Cristina toward the metro and I snapped a quick picture of Camp Nou- the stadium of the Barcelona Football Club.  I knew the boys would appreciate it. Heck, even I could appreciate it. It’s the largest stadium in Europe. 

And that was another day in Barcelona, in the books.