The kids have been really, really, really patient this week.  

Since Señor Aventura arrived, each summer day has been filled with a stream of "To Do" lists... crazy fun stuff like, "Walk two miles to view an apartment that we will decide in 30 seconds we don't like," and "Take a 40 minute metro ride to visit a car dealership and sit for an hour while your dad talks with a stranger about used cars in a language you don't yet understand."  

Basically every child's best dream come true!  (Hey... we're building character here, kiddos!)

Since they're used to traveling with us, they've been pretty great about it though - a few minor scuffles here and there with each other - but mainly they've done a lot of patient waiting and reading.  

Still, an eleven year old can withstand only so much boredom before inevitable tween-age feelings come to the fore.

"I miss my friends.  This is boring," The Scientist confessed.  Both statements completely understandable, and true. 

(We did point out to our eldest son that looking at used cars and searching for a new home isn't necessarily any more fun back in California...)

Still, Señor Aventura and I could see group morale for the adventure wilting slightly, and so we countered with the best antidote we could imagine.

"So... I was thinking we could stop by the FC Barcelona Botiga (store) today," I mused to Soccer Dude and The Scientist on Wednesday morning.

Soccer Dude's face visibly brightened.  "Really?  Can we buy something there?"

"Maybe!" I smiled.  "We'll see!" 

The Scientist frowned slightly.  "Mom, when can we see a Barcelona game?  Didn't you say there was one this week?  Can we go to that?"

"Yeah mom, PLEASE?" added Soccer Dude.  "PLEASE can we see a game?  When are they playing?"

Normally I might have strung the surprise along for a while to keep them on their toes, but understanding the long week they'd had, it felt like the kindest thing to do to share our happy news.

"Ahhh!  You guys are too smart!  You got me!  We were going to surprise you!  We're going to the FCB store to buy tickets!  Your dad and I are taking you to see Barça play tonight!" 

"WHAT???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"WE'RE GOING TONIGHT????   WE GET TO SEE MESSI TONIGHT????"  Soccer Dude began to yodel and run around the front room of our small apartment.  "YAHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WE'RE GOING TO A BARÇA GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He stopped short, and turned to me very seriously.  "Mom, where is the computer?  I have GOT to email Mini-Muller to tell him about this RIGHT NOW!  We're going to see BARÇA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  He began to dance and jump around again.

In the end, Soccer Dude and The Scientist went with their dad all the way to Camp Nou to buy tickets, not just to avoid the 10 euro service charge but also because our boys will take any opportunity to visit Camp Nou.  

They got 'nosebleed' seats, way at the top of the stadium.  The tickets were 39 euro each... as even "cheap" seats are still a pretty big splurge for a family of five!  We didn't know much about the opposing team, UC Sampdoria, but The Scientist looked them up and informed us that they were a professional Italian team that beat Barça in this same pre-season matchup back in 2012. 

"Mommy gets to watch (handsome) FC Barcelona players on the field for two hours... going against a squad of (handsome) Italian soccer players?" I laughed and kissed Señor Aventura.  "Sounds like a super fun night for everyone!"  

​

Getting to and from the game was a little tricker than we'd imagined.  We left our apartment for the 8:30pm kickoff at 6:30pm, thinking that we'd grab a quick bite to eat along the way.  We'd completely forgotten though that most restaurants in Barcelona don't open for dinner until 8pm at earliest... because the Spanish work day schedule doesn't usually end until then.  

(Businesses here are open typically from 9am to 2pm and then from 4:30 or 5pm to 8pm... with a long break in the middle of the day for siesta, comida, etc.)

Long story short - nothing fast/reasonably priced was open.  We saw a few touristy restaurants with sit-down menus that were still open on the Rambla Catalunya... but that looked like it would take a long time.  

After walking for nearly an hour with hungry, anxious kids, we found an open burger restaurant called Figaro and ordered food to go.  

"It's almost eight..." said Señor Aventura when our food arrived.  "We'd better go or the boys will miss kickoff.  Maybe you should take the boys in a taxi and Little Angel and I will take the bus and meet you there."  

Taxis in Barcelona only have enough seatbelts for four passengers and they will absolutely not give you a ride if your group is larger than four.  You can call a Taxi Van, but they are harder to come by and it can take a while.  There were none nearby at that moment.  

Seeing the stressed faces of our boys, I agreed with my husband.  We tried to hail a taxi.  One pulled up alongside us, and I asked him in my best broken Spanish, "Sir, can you take three of us to Camp Nou for the game?" 

The driver was a younger man, with kind brown eyes.  "No," he shook his head. "Better to take the metro or bus.  I cannot get my cab anywhere near Camp Nou right now."



Listening to his advice, we jumped immediately on the H8 Bus to Camp Nou and waited through what felt like an infinite number of stops.  Soccer Dude had sad eyes fixed intensely on the list of bus stops.  "I think there are nineteen million stops until Camp Nou," he said.  "We're going to miss the game."

"No, it's okay," said Señor Aventura.  "We won't miss it.  We're nearly there."

Happily, my husband was right.  The bus let us off on the front stops of Camp Nou at exactly 8:30... and the Aventura children raced up the steps to the turnstile.  

I couldn't help but notice how different it is to enter a soccer match here than at home.  The game had just started and there was no line.  No security team.  Nobody searched our bags or patted us down.  A single young woman, surely Spanish though Asian in heritage, smiled at the kids and took our tickets.  She let us through the gate and with that we were in one of the most famous soccer stadiums in the world.  

(It may also be one of the older ones?  I was really surprised by how run-down Camp Nou appeared from the inside.  There were also massive gaps in the railing - at all levels - where a toddler could easily and quickly fall down multiple floors.  I don't think it would pass safety inspections in the USA.  To be honest, it reminded me more of the ancient Colosseum in Rome than it did of our stadiums in California.  Such a glorious view though!)

We headed to section 417, where there was one last little complication.  Our seats were full.  Five men of international descent (hard to say where they were from... perhaps Middle-Eastern... were enjoying the game in a very relaxed fashion, from our seats. Of course, this could happen anywhere. 

Señor Aventura is a very relaxed guy himself, so he wasn't excited about any possible conflict with a bunch of dudes at a soccer game.  First, he tried to flag down a stadium attendant to help us.  However, it turns out that the stadium attendants at Camp Nou are basically a bunch of young dudes themselves - maybe teens, maybe college students - who really didn't seem to care at all where anyone sat.  To be honest, they seemed pretty annoyed by all foreign tourists - even the ones who spoke good Spanish. 

"Those guys don't know what's going on," said Señor Aventura grimly.
"Honestly, I think they just don't care," I replied.
"Mommy, where are our seats?" asked Little Angel.
"We need to sit down right away!" exclaimed Soccer Dude, his eyes already riveted to the field.

Luckily a kind man sitting nearby addressed us in English, "Can I help you?"  Señor Aventura explained our dilemma.  The man immediately addressed the crowd and two full rows of men sitting next to where we were standing pulled out their tickets to find out where the mistake had been made.  As it turned out, almost everyone around us was in the wrong place.  The men in our row sitting in our seats were actually supposed to sit just one row above us... but the men sitting in their row needed to go about 8 rows higher.  

It was a little bit of what my friends at home and I might casually call a "cluster". However, all the men were basically decent about it and everything ended well.  

We sat down just in time for Soccer Dude and The Scientist to witness a blond Lionel Messi perform an acrobatic move of pure awesomeness on the soccer field - impressive enough that their eyes bugged out.  For the rest of the night, joy prevailed.

I promised myself that this year I would learn to make 'fancy braids' and that Little Angel will never leave the house looking unkempt, as she often has done when I've been working full time.  Here is one of my first attempts at a braid.  Yes, I've been watching YouTube videos... I'm sure my hair-braiding genius will kick in anytime now.  LOL.

Even after we buy a car, we will still mainly travel by foot, metro and bus.  It's cool, coming from Southern California, to live in a city where you don't actually need a car to get around. The kids are experts on public transport at this point.  Soccer Dude routinely stops us from hopping on the wrong metro line and The Scientist greatly enjoys mapping our daily routes.

Gracia is preparing for a big week-long 'festa' next week.  There will be much decoration, live music, food and merriment.  Despite how eager Señor Aventura is to get out of town, we agree that we look forward to seeing at least a little of this fun event!  In preparation for the big week, many wires have been strung across the tops of streets and we see that they are starting to hang plastic flags and many other interesting things from them.  

Earlier in the week, we made a big shopping expedition for groceries.

In Spain (and in Europe) there are many ways to buy groceries.  Many shops are very small and specialize in just a few things - like "Frutas y Verduras' (fruit and vegetables) or meats and cheeses.  There are an infinite number of small bakeries where you can purchase freshly baked breads along with croissants, rolls, small pizzas, and much more.  

There are some larger 'supermarket' type places though, one of which is the incredible department store, "El Corte Inglés".  

I get the sense that for many native Catalan people, this store represents a necessary evil - something that exists against the traditional way of life but which is very convenient.  

As a foreign guest in a new land, I never cease to be amazed by these vast stores.  El Corte Inglés is way more than a supermarket or a department store.  It has everything!  

The Corte Inglés stores consist of many levels, some of which are subterranean.  They often take up an entire city block!  The stores carry anything you could think of.  I can purchase a dress, school supplies for my kids, electronics for my husband, household appliances for our kitchen, new furnishings and remodeling materials (tile, paint, fabric, etc.).  Also airline tickets and vacation packages,  One of the downstairs levels holds a full grocery store, along with several specialty shops that carry high-end luxury groceries and also body-care products.  

Their basic grocery store is vast, and as you can see in these photos carries things one would definitely not expect to see in an American supercenter type store, for example, Walmart.  Our jaws dropped when we saw the fish counter, for example, which took up half a city block and was staffed by multiple professionals.  For San Diego locals, it made Pt. Loma Seafoods look like child's play.  Since Barcelona is a beach town on the Mediterranean, the fish here is very fresh.

One interesting thing is that in European stores one must usually weigh the fruit and vegetables (or have an attendant weigh them) and receive an official price sticker, so that the check-out clerks won't have to do this.  You can see with the photo of the orange (Top-L) that the fresh foods are sorted by type and weight and then given a price, but only after you select them.  ​

Of course, the best thing about grocery shopping is enjoying what you can create with delicious, fresh food back in your kitchen!  We've enjoyed making our own (green) smoothies, salads, sandwiches and fish over the past week.  It turns out you can take the family out of California, but you can't take California out of the family!

​In addition to grocery shopping, looking for cars and working on the empadronamiento, we have spent a lot of the past week apartment hunting.  

Señor Aventura and I have weeded through 112 possible properties, narrowing our list down to 17 apartments that we called about.  We've visited many with realtors.

Then, something magical happened. 

About a week ago we'd walked by two tall buildings right next to the Jardins de Villa Amelia (that park we love).
 
"This seems like it would be a nice place to live," I'd remarked in passing to Soccer Dude and Little Angel.

Two days ago after leaving one rental appointment, we happened to walk by these same buildings again.
 
"Hey," I said to Señor Aventura.  "See those tall white buildings across the street?  We really like those.  Maybe you could stop in to speak to the doorman, to find out if anything is for rent, while Little Angel and I go get some bottles of water?" (It was 92F.)

"Por que no?" he replied.

Little Angel and I went to the little fruit and vegetable shop to get some nectarines and bananas, plus water.  Ten minutes later we met up with Señor Aventura and the boys.  The Scientist and Soccer Dude were almost screaming with excitement.  

"WE HAVE TO LIVE HERE!"

"Mom, it has it's own soccer field!  And two pools!  And a tennis court!  Mom, it's like paradise!"

My husband was dialing a number on his phone. "There IS an apartment available.  The door-man gave me the number.  I'm calling!"  He smiled at me.  We called twice - left one message, and finally spoke to a representative, who arranged to meet us to show us the apartment the very next day.

Later that night, in an amazing coincidence, another agent wrote to us a message about the exact property! 

"Good afternoon,
After reading your e-mails once again and knowing the location, budget and rest of your needs and wants, let me insist in the following flat. The exact address is Francesc Carbonell nº **. This is touching Santa Amelia Park...ideal location. Further, it has been renewed amazingly...you will be impressed by the quality of it all."

We toured it yesterday, and were definitely pleased by its size, location, lovely views and amenities.  I'd say there is a good chance that this could become our new home in Spain!

This time we had the passports and birth certificates with us... but the City Hall office would now not accept the official translations for our children's birth certificates - even though they were Apostilled by the US government and already accepted by the Spanish Consulate in Los Angeles.  

"It must have a stamp on the translation," said the clerk.  "My manager is not here today, and I cannot accept this without approval.  You should go to get a new translation and also a stamp from your consulate."

Strike two.

​The two Señors quickly conferred and decided that the most important thing right now would be for my husband and I to have the empadronamiento... since without it, nothing else can happen for us in this city.  No apartment, no car, no NIE.  Nada!

So, we went ahead this time and - with our friend's kind sponsorship - got the official empadronamiento for just my husband and me.  

Sometime in the next few days or weeks we will need to go to the U.S. Consulate to get a new official translation and stamp for each of our children's birth certificates.  Then we will try again at City Hall to get them their own empadronamiento so that they too can receive NIE cards and be eligible for the rights that come with them.  

(Fingers crossed that this goes smoothly!!!)

The silver lining of this complicated morning was that the clerk printed out our empadronamiento documents on the spot, so that we did not have to wait for 1.5 months to get our papers.  As soon as we find the right used car, Señor Aventura can buy it immediately now...  

One of my friends recently posted on Facebook an article from The Onion entitled: "Mom Spends Beach Vacation Assuming All Household Duties In Closer Proximity To The Ocean".  I could not stop laughing.

At the time, I was eight days into taking care of Soccer Dude and Little Angel on my own in Spain.  Every day I would wake with wonder and excitement, thinking, "Wow!  We're in Spain!  We live here!"  I'd look out our window at the panorama of elegant European rooftops and pinch myself that we actually get to stay for a while.

Every night I would fall back into bed smiling, thinking, "Wow, what did we do today?  I cooked and cleaned up three meals, went grocery shopping, did two loads of laundry, took out the trash and recycling... and brought the kids to the park.  In Spain!" ​

"I will throw the ball!" he shouted with a smile.  "You both will chase the ball!  Whoever gets the ball will get a point!  Then they will give me the ball again!"  (A glorified game of fetch, but it seemed to work for them...)

"I am from Russia!" he told Soccer Dude in perfect English.  "I have grown for my entire life here in Barcelona. I am ten years old!  I go to the best school in the city.  I speak English better than I speak Russian.  I am wearing a fantastic American shirt that my mother has given to me!"

"Do you also speak Spanish and Catalan?" my husband asked him.  
"But of course!" he replied in perfect Spanish.  "I tell you already, I have lived here my entire life!  I go to the best school in Spain!"

Soccer Dude and Igor played in the park for at least two hours.  Igor had a pocket full of brightly colored water balloons which became a pocket full of fun.  "Let us make a water slide!" advised Igor.  "Let us make a shower! Let us throw the balloons at each other at the same time!" The two of them left the park absolutely soaking wet, beaming broadly from ear to ear.

"You will come and live in my apartment building?" asked Igor as we parted company with him.  "There is an empty apartment in the building where I live.  You will come and take it?  And then when (Soccer Dude) has nothing to do, he will not stay alone in your apartment playing video games...." (he made a dark and frowning face here) "but instead he will come to play every day at the park with me!"

Soccer Dude looked blissfully happy.

"Of course, mom," he confided on the way home.  "Igor is NOT my BEST FRIEND.  Mini Muller will always be my BEST FRIEND."

"Yes.  But, you made a friend!!!"

"I made a friend."  Soccer Dude smiled broadly.

* * *

Yesterday, Señor Aventura also reconnected with a dear friend, who I will call "Señor Gran Corazón".  An amazing lifelong friend who has bent over backwards to make our move to Spain possible.  He once lived with Señor Aventura's family in Coronado, and now he helps us to make us at home in Spain.

He and his (lovely, luminous) wife live in a gorgeous spot up the coast in Barcelona with their adorable 4 year old son and a new baby on the way.  

They are incredible, gracious people.  Every time we visit, they insist upon having us up to their home for a swim and a long lunch which lasts all day.  We laugh and talk for hours and they are so truly hospitable.  This man would give my husband the shirt off his back to make him more comfortable; and in fact, yesterday he literally loaned him a pair of swim trunks for the pool.  

"I will be your sponsor," he tells my husband.  "I will help you with anything you need.  I will help you buy a car.  You can live at my home if you like!"  

It is so lucky to have in the world a friend like this.  ​

It's been an interesting week!  We changed apartments due to the exciting impending arrival (at last!) of Señor Aventura and The Scientist... who flew Norweigian Air via Stockholm to meet us in Barcelona.  ​

On our first night in the new apartment, in the middle of the night, I heard a crinkling sound.  Or perhaps it was a rustling.  You know, the noise a plastic trash bag or plastic wrapping might make if you were opening it.

Since it was 4am it took me a few moments to remember that I'd indeed left a plastic trash bag in the bathroom adjoining our AirBNB bedroom; as it had contained no trash can.  

I opened my eyes wide to look at it, and again heard the crinkling, rustling noise.  To my surprise, the bag appeared to be MOVING slightly. ​

Yes, I squealed involuntarily and woke at least 3 people in our family up at 4am.  (They essentially groaned and rolled back over to go back to bed.)

"Okay. It is too big to squish.  That would destroy my shoe.  I am going to trap it in the bathroom and Señor Aventura can help me deal with this in the morning. Maybe it will go away!"

I quickly shut the door.  The lights were now on in our bedroom.  As I tried to fall back asleep, I reminded myself that the European buildings we are staying in are probably hundreds of years old and it's of course normal to find roaches anywhere in the world.

Just as my heart rate began to relax, something dark darted by the bed.  

It was a DIFFERENT cockroach, this one lighter in coloring but just as large.  

"OH NO YOU DIDN"T!"

Big baby that I am, I didn't even consider killing it.  I got quickly under the top sheet and pulled it up over the crown of my head so that it couldn't get me.  LOL!

So... the good news is that our new apartment came with pets!  (They are definitely big enough to name, although we're trying NOT to feed them...)

The bad news is that I seriously woke up later to find that roach in my bed.
On my pillow.  NOT JOKING!!!

While I like to consider myself an open-minded person, I am not ready to share my bed at night with a six-legged 'mascota'.  Not even a cosmopolitan Spanish one.

I am now sleeping in the back bedroom.  Ha!