Meanwhile our seatmate grew more and more agitated... checking his phone for the time and packing his backpack well before our arrival.  When we finally stopped in Paris, he darted off the train.  

"Nice to meet you!" he headed quickly toward the doors.
"Merry Christmas and good luck!" we called after him and then began to gather our belongings and our family.

The Aventura children were hungry.  They began to squabble as we waited for my husband to study the Metro map.  True to his word, Señor Aventura figured out the French Metro rail system in just a few minutes, even though he speaks no French (my husband is amazing!).  So despite the hunger and squabble, we managed to get three children, two adults, nine pieces of luggage and one bag of food out of Gare du Lyon and onto the right platform to wait for the RER Line D train to Paris Nord.  The metro journey was estimated to take less than ten minutes.

The train arrived quickly and we all jumped on in a flurry of action.  "Count the bags!"  I reminded the kids.
"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine!"  
Great!  However, after two stops on the train we noticed something.
"Where is the food bag?"  (This bag had been filled with all of our bread, fruit, ham, cheeses, pasta... all the gluten free stuff too.  Travel snacks.)

Señor Aventura looked at me with chagrin.  

"Oh man.  Hon, I may have left the bag of food on the platform where we were sitting."
"Oh dear.  Really?"
"I'd go back for it," he said, "but we're so late already."
"No, we need to push forward and try to make our next train.  Oh well.  I hope someone on that platform likes gluten free pasta!"
"But daddy," whined Little Angel, "I'm hungry!"
"We've got to keep going, we'll eat as soon as we can."

Soon we arrived hopefully at Gare du Nord (or Paris Nord)... but were completely unprepared for what lay before us.  

Not only were there swarms of holiday travelers, but this time there were also swarms of men loitering.  They were clearly NOT traveling.  It's hard to explain what this looked like for people who haven't been in the situation... but imagine going to the mall and seeing male teenagers just hanging out all around the mall, carefully watching everyone pass.  

Some of these men were teenagers and others were quite a bit older.  They were mainly standing with their backs against the walls, watching travelers pass.  It was the way they watched us... this close watching... that felt immediately uncomfortable.

We began to move through them on our way to the other side of the station, yet entirely blind as to where we were headed.  

Suddenly someone smacked into me from behind and pushed forward.  I felt light a tug on my jacket pocket as he passed, and instinctively glared at the man as he turned backward and mumbled a half apology while continuing forward and fumbling with his backpack.  I knew without being told that he had just tried to pick my pocket.  Happily, I also knew that there had been absolutely nothing in that jacket pocket.  He literally came out empty handed.

"Where's your wallet, hon?" asked my husband who had been walking just behind me and saw the whole thing happen.  
"Safe," I smiled, secure in the knowledge that our valuables were carefully zipped away and almost impossible to grab quickly in passing.  Sometimes it pays to be 41 years old and a seasoned traveler.

Time was running out and we still didn't know where to go to catch our Thalys train to Amsterdam.  "It's 5:05, Mom!" exclaimed Soccer Dude.  "We're going to miss our train!" 

Paris Nord is actually quite big.  By the time we'd crossed from one end to the other, with me encouraging our daughter as we walked, my husband and sons were briefly out of sight.  Grabbing onto Little Angel's hand, I pushed forward and loudly called Señor Aventura's name.  Five young men turned around from the wall where they were loitering and studied my daughter and me.  Surely they sized us up immediately.  A dishevelled, slightly anxious American woman alone with a little girl and four bags. Lost.  

I felt myself begin to sweat.

"Fuerza!  Hon!  Over here!"  Suddenly I heard my husband call to me from up ahead to the far left.  I let out a sigh of relief when I saw him with our boys.

We scurried to catch up.  As I walked forward one of the men loitering stopped me in our path and began to speak in English.  
"Do you need help?"

I am not normally a rude person, but I know enough not to get involved talking to a complete stranger lingering in a train station.  "NO, thank you," I responded briskly and pulled Little Angel quickly forward toward my husband.  He saw we were part of a group and went back to his loitering friends.

An older female traveler had noticed this exchange and politely approached my husband and I.  "Where do you need to go?" she asked us.  

"We need the Thalys train," my husband explained.  
"Go upstairs two floors," she directed us.  "You will see it on the left."  

By the time we finally made it to the security line for the Thalys train, it wrapped around and around.  "The train leaves in 10 minutes!  Will they wait for us to get through security?"  

"Look at all of these people," my husband assured me.  "They all have tickets, the attendants aren't going to turn away hundreds of passengers at once.  We are okay."

Happily he was right and by the time the Thalys train pulled out of Paris Nord we were safely in our seats.  Exhausted, sweaty, disheveled, a little grimy... but sitting together with all nine of our bags aboard.  ​

A kindly Parisian woman traveling with her two children to Rotterdam took pity on us and handed out snacks to our children, who were very hungry.  "I cannot stand to see hungry children," she declared after hearing the story of how we'd lost our food bag.  "It breaks my heart."   She gave The Scientist, Soccer Dude and Little Angel individually wrapped packages of sweet cakes and apples. ​

Since the night around us was pitch black, and there was no WIFI, we had little to do but read and doze.  In a very short time we'd passed through Belgium and entered The Netherlands.

"Nearly there now!"  We started to beam with excitement and a new burst of energy.

Sadly though, we were not nearly there.  Not at all!

​Long story short, an accident occurred on the tracks where our train was traveling.  Just outside of Amsterdam we were informed of this and dropped unceremoniously at the Schipol Airport.  There, we were told by a security officer in a red cap that we would need to take another train and transfer to a metro to get to Centraal Station in the heart of Amsterdam (where we were originally supposed to arrive).  ​

Honestly, this is where our family just sort of lost our cool for twenty or thirty minutes.  It ended up taking us an extra hour or more to get to our hotel.  We got stuck in the metro station, couldn't figure out how to buy metro cards, couldn't leave the station and at some point even my typically calm and relaxed husband got frustrated and began muttering about telling the security guards off. Little Angel was near tears and the boys were openly squabbling.  I felt overwhelmed and found myself taking deep breaths and chanting little encouraging mantras quietly.  "Everything is going to be alright.  We'll get through this."

​Random passersby stared at us.  In retrospect we must have been quite a bedraggled, comical sight.

We finally found our way onto a Metro headed toward the right station.  A man and woman seated near us overheard our stressed conversation and children bickering, and spoke to my husband in English asking if we needed anything.  When he explained the scenario with the trains, they encouraged us warmly.

"You have had bad luck tonight," the couple said... "but you will love Amsterdam.  Things will get better now."

At long, long last we arrived by metro in front of Centraal Station and glimpsed the Plaza Park Hotel Victoria.  "Oh thank heaven," I sighed.  "It's just across the street now, kids.  Four more minutes!!!"

Just as I said this, it started to pour rain.  Not just a light sprinkle, but a heavy pelting rain.  Little Angel's hood kept flipping backward in the wind, she couldn't get the zipper on her jacket up, and she finally lost it.  "I hate the rain!  I'm hungry!  I can't do this!!!!"  she started to cry and sobbed as the cold rain cascaded onto her face.  

"We're nearly there!" my husband and I encouraged her, but then just one second later I had to reach out and grab Soccer Dude out of the path of an oncoming motorcycle.  

"Our restaurant closes in just fifteen minutes," said the woman at the front desk.  "Why don't you leave your bags here and go have a nice dinner?  We can take them to your rooms for you.  Welcome to Amsterdam!"  She smiled at us so warmly and with such compassion, I suddenly felt stronger and greatly relieved.  I led the children into the hotel's beautiful restaurant.  What we saw made our mouths drop open.  

It was magical!  ​

This is how, at 9:45pm on December 23rd our family at last found Christmas.  It was waiting for us here in Amsterdam!  ​

​
​This morning in Barcelona I had tea with my wonderful friend Viva.  We had not seen each other for about nine or ten days, since my family has been on a major road trip throughout Spain.  (This is a long time for us, since usually we see each other twice a week!)  She and I had a lot to catch up on. 

"How was it?" she asked after greeting me warmly.  "Did you love the cities in the south? Isn't Sevilla charming?"

I smiled and agreed effusively that southern Spain was great.  "We especially loved Córdoba!" I added.  This was my way of politely avoiding the fact that actually, I'm not currently a big fan of Sevilla.  Not at all.

You see, we'd just wrapped up three spectacular days in Granada.  I could wax rhapsodic about Granada (and did, here!) so, after having such a great experience, we all held very high hopes for Sevilla too.  

"I've heard Sevilla is even more charming than Granada!" I told Señor Aventura as we zipped down the highway in Chico Suave.  "They say Sevilla is the town you really want to stay in and enjoy for a while.  Too bad we have only two nights there!" 

The day was sunny and bright, and our drive from Granada to Sevilla took less than three hours.  It flew by and felt very easy and light.
​

"Kids, look at those olive trees!" I exclaimed as we looked out the car windows at massive rows of trees covering entire mountains like green stripes.  "I've never seen so many planted trees in one place in my life!"

"We're definitely in olive country," my husband nodded.  "Kids, this is where all of the great Spanish olive oil comes from... and also those delicious Spanish olives!"

The soil was clay-colored and at times even reddish from iron content. Its contrast with the green trees and bright blue sky was intoxicating.  

"This is amazing," I sighed blissfully.  "Have I mentioned how much I love this country?"
​

My husband smiled warmly as he gazed out upon the open road.  "Yes, it's pretty great here."

Our children groaned.  "Yes mom, you guys tell us that every day!"

"Well," I squeezed my daughter's hand and gave her a big smile from the front seat.  "We all have our place in the world.  I hope one day you find a place that feels as much like home to you, as this does to me!"

She giggled.

So, we were all basically in spectacular spirits when we rolled into Sevilla.  

That didn't last too long.  

First, we had to wait for about an hour outside of the AirBNB apartment we'd rented, for the owner to arrive.  The neighborhood itself was okay... not terrible, just sort of blah and a little run down.  No biggie, but it was quite cold outside and waiting for an hour on the street with children wasn't that fun.  The kids grew very restless.  ​Señor Aventura started to work on fixing his bicycle.  We got hungry.
​

We got settled in and decided to take a stroll into town.

This was the part where I started to dislike Sevilla. ​

The walk between our apartment and downtown (at least the way we mapped it) turned out to be maze-like and stressful to navigate.  Imagine countless very narrow, winding streets with only one sidewalk about 1 foot wide (sometimes no sidewalk at all) and yet taxis or cars racing down these same streets about every three minutes, coming around curves directly toward your children super fast.   ​They did not slow down!
​

By this point, our boys were beyond silly.  

"Hey guys, can I take your picture?" I asked them.  "In front of the Cathedral?"

"Sure!" they giggled.  Here are the photos of that um, priceless memory... 

​Sigh.

"I'm hungry!!!" Little Angel began to cry.  "Why couldn't we just stay in the apartment?  Why do we have to walk so much!  My feet hurt!"

Desparate times call for desparate measures... we were clearly on our way to meltdown city.

Faster than you can say "Ay yay yay" my husband and I bought seven churros from a sidewalk vendor and loaded our children up with carbs and sugars... which any parent knows is a fantastic decision guaranteed to make things so much better.  Hahaha!

"Why are those horses all chained up to those carriages mommy?" Little Angel replied mournfully, pointing in the opposite direction instead.  "It's so sad they do that to the horses.  It's like torture!"  

​She pointed to the way the horses were hooked up to carriages and obliged to trot on the road right next to quickly speeding cars.  "The men keep hitting them with those long stick things, mommy.  They're mean!"  ​

​We spent the next three hours walking our sugared up children around town, checking out the most famous sights of Sevilla, including its Plaza de España.  ​

There was no way the kids could walk back all the way to our AirBNB at this point, so we tried to take a taxi home.  We approached several taxis but none of them would agree to take all five of us.  

Since bedtime was crucial for our littles, Señor Aventura opted to get una cerveza and watch some of the local singers seranade the crowd, while I took the kids back to the apartment.  The taxi ride took what felt like forever, it was so convoluted to get from point A to point B through the winding city streets.  My kids began to squabble quietly in the back seat.  The taxi driver pretended not to notice as I whispered to them... and I tried to remember if we were driving in the right direction.  It was a loooonnnnnngggg ride.

At last, we were home for the night!

By the time Señor Aventura arrived back at our apartment, we'd both separately come to the same conclusion that we'd had enough of Sevilla.

"This isn't really a bike-friendly town," my husband explained.  "It would be a lot better for me to ride tomorrow somewhere with more moutains.  I wouldn't mind exploring somewhere else."

"I hate walking the kids around on these streets," I agreed.  "I'd much rather take them to a smaller town with wider sidewalks and fewer tourists.  What about Córdoba?  Your mom recommended it highly!"

"That actually sounds great," he heartily agreed.  "I'm fine with leaving first thing tomorrow morning and heading to Córdoba.  I've seen enough of Sevilla for now.  It isn't that bad, but I don't love it."

"Same."

Which explains why our Familia Aventura made an unexpected detour from Sevilla to Córdoba and were immediately glad we'd done so... despite having to clean three different AirBNB apartments (Granada-Sevilla-Córdoba) and repack all suitcases and the car on three consecutive early mornings.  

​Our family was blown away by the exquisite city of Granada and even more by El Alhambra, the incredible ancient jewel which overlooks it. For folks who enjoy history and context, I've written a more thoughtful piece about the creation of this fortress compound and its symbolism.  It's posted at the end of our road trip photos.  Others may prefer just to enjoy the photos, so I'm placing those first!

In all, we spent two days touring this impressive architectural wonder.  Visitors to El Alhambra monument purchase tickets that give you a limited four hour block of time during which you can tour all of the gardens and fortress (Alcazaba) by foot.  The blocks fall twice a day - once in the morning, and once in the afternoon.  We missed "El Alhambra By Night" which several friends have told us is spectacular, but only takes place on weekends with reservations.  (Something to return for one day!)

One of the two palaces (Nasrid) can only be visited for 90 minutes at a specific time printed on your ticket... and since that palace is the main attraction of the entire monument, we stayed in Granada an extra day just to see it.  So, between the hours of 14:00 and 18:00 (2 - 6pm) on Monday and Tuesday, we walked and walked, admired, reflected and took a million photos.

During the other hours of our three days in Granada we explored the old Albaicin neighborhood, discovered a delicious hilltop restaurant specializing in fallafel and tagines, gazed into a lot of store windows and did a very tiny bit of shopping.  Señor Aventura took a magnificent bike ride up to the very top of the Sierra Nevada mountain range ("a dream come true!") and the children played Granada Trivial Pursuit for two hours (yes, it's a real game). The Scientist researched and found us a tiny Italian restaurant with the best pasta outside of Italy... and on our last night we stumbled with blind luck into what may be the second-best paella on Earth (first of course being the one Señor Aventura cooks in our kitchen)!  

My husband also explained to us that Granada is famous for its handmade guitars, so we looked around for some while admiring other local artisanal crafts and Moroccan pottery... and Señor briefly strummed an 800 euro acoustic for the children (perhaps to the chagrin of the shopkeeper!!!).  While walking home we gazed in wonder at the brilliant Christmas lights and negotiated our way around the swelling crowds of families celebrating Spain's Constitution Day.  

Granada was a tremendous city that we agree we would all love to return to.  We'd recommend it to families on vacation, couples looking for a romantic getaway, and anyone who loves history and truly great food!  

We ourselves could not stop saying, "Wow!"

My favorite moment in Granada was when our eleven year old son The Scientist exhaled while looking down on the Albaicin neighborhood from the top of El Alhambra monument and exclaimed, very spontaneously, "Mom, it was all worth it.  This place... it makes the whole drive south and everything else completely worth it!"  

​Obviously, I couldn't agree more.  

Without further ado, we present un-retouched snapshots from three days in Granada complete with food, holiday lights, world famous architecture and Aventura-style fun!   (If you're interested in history, continue reading below the photos.)

Perhaps because I grew up in a country that predominantly self-identifies as Judeo-Christian, I never learned much about Islam or Islamic culture.  I don't know enough about its rich and lengthy history, or its deeply held beliefs.  I do know and truly understand that fanatical jihadists do not represent Islam... just as fanatical Christians don't represent all of Christianity.

Spending this week in Southern Spain... Granada, Sevilla and Córdoba has been a spectacular experience, and quite eye opening for our family!  

Spain is still a strongly Roman Catholic country, but it is clear as we travel through the south of the country that its relationship with Islam and also Judaism are nuanced.  The history of Spain itself is complex and deeply textured with Moorish and Jewish history.  You can REALLY feel this in the south.  Many buildings in the historical quarters of cities, including the Alhambra, are still decorated with Arabic lettering or six pointed stars.  Salesmen of African heritage on the street are greeted warmly by their Spanish friends, frequently exchanging the equivalent of a verbal high-five in passing.  Hordes of Spanish tourists and families visit mosques and temples, in addition to ancient cathedrals.  Local restaurants offer Sephardic, Lebanese and Persian food next to tapas bars and paella.  Spain may have been the land of the Inquisition... but before that, it was a cultural and religious melting pot where people of different faiths and ethnicities co-existed peacefully for many hundreds of years.  This continues, to some degree.

There is no possible way to tell the story of Spain without including the eight centuries of Islamic rule on this Iberian peninsula. Much crucial Muslim history took place in Granada (a.k.a. Gharna-tah in Arabic, which some say means "Hill of Strangers"). 

Granada has had people living in its area in one form or another since 5500 BCE.  Both Romans and Visigoths held power at different times.  In AD 711 a civil war between Visigoths raged and one side invited assistance from Muslim armies.  This was the beginning of the Umayyad conquest of Hispania, and soon much of Iberia fell under Muslim rule.  The caliphate of Al-Andalus was established, and that is where this Spanish state now draws its name - Andalusia.

It didn't take long until Gharna-tah was one of the most populated and important cities in Al-Andalus.  Many different leaders ruled the territory over the next five hundred years, and the society that grew in its midst was amazingly tolerant, integrated and peaceful even by modern standards.  Spanish Muslims lived side by side with Christians and Jews, along with Arab and Berber immigrants.  Intermarriage between all of them was common.

In 1228, Ibn al-Ahmar established his dynasty, the Nasrids.  He based himself in Gharna-Tah and commisioned El Alhambra, the Nasrid "palace city".  El Alhambra has become one of the most famous monuments in the entire world, widely known for its exquisite architecture and sculpture along with its sophisticated and advanced engineering systems.  

The compound consists of two royal residential palaces, multiple gardens and agricultural zones and a defensive area called the Alcazaba which is more like a fortress.  All of this sits on a smallish plateau overlooking a vast valley, set in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountain range.  The smaller, lesser known palace (Generalife) is very welcoming and secluded, with arguably the best views and gardens.  It was the place where the royal family could go to relax with some privacy from the rest of the compound.

Spanish Christians pushed out the Moors violently during the Reconquista... but the physical building of the Alhambra continued to have great importance throughout Spanish history. In 1492 King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella ejected the last Moors from Granada and officially took over El Alhambra.  One interesting fact for Americans, it was here at El Alhambra that Christopher Columbus visited Ferdinand and Isabella to ask for money to pursue his new route to the Indies (which led to his 'discovery' of the Americas)!

To this day, El Alhambra stands as a symbol of great strength and beauty.  It is emblematic of a rich Spanish history that continues to integrate Muslim, Christian and Jewish heritage in a way that is deeply and inextricably entwined.

​There is a closeness between the cultures that I could not have imagined... and a warmer camaraderie here between African and Middle Eastern immigrants and Spanish locals here than I'd understood. Just as San Diego and Tijuana are two sides of a very thin line, so are Gibraltar and Tangiers

Our family saw and felt this in every city we visited in Southern Spain.  You never really forget in the south that you are just an hour's drive and a very short ferry ride from northern Africa.  Tangiers and Morocco are virtually just a breath away... in the hot summers, one might almost be able to smell spices in the wind.

​The Aventura family is on the move again, heading to southern Spain!  

After three weeks apart we enjoyed an exuberant reunion on Saturday afternoon with our favorite man of steel, Señor Aventura, who took no less than three flights (San Diego - Dallas - London - Barcelona) to return home to us at last.  Bless his heart, even though he was running on fumes Señor Aventura gave us big hugs, drank three coffees and promptly proceeded to drive the family 3.5 hours south to start off our long-awaited, much-anticipated road trip to Granada and Sevilla! ​

​After a lengthy and deeply satisfying lunch, we hopped back in the car and settled in for the rest of the drive.  It turned out that much of the road between Jumilla and Granada had only two-lanes, one heading north and the other south.  The path was also quite winding and so, in the rain and complete with large-haul trucks, it took a lot of concentration for Señor Aventura to navigate.  Being a skillful driver though he was completely relaxed and enjoying himself.  He played us a mix of Bjork, Atlas Sound and Liars while soaking up the purply vistas of the shadow-drenched land.  ​

I found the dark skies and gentle vibration of the car on the road to be so soothing that I fell sound asleep for an hour while the younger children played cards in the middle seats and The Scientist listened to his music in the back of the car.  ​

"How can you guys be tired?" asked Señor Aventura.  "You've been cooped up in the car all day.  Do you want to go for a walk with me to get some energy out?"

"No, I just want to go to bed," Little Angel replied. 

"I'll go with you, Dad!" said The Scientist.  "Could we get gelato?" 

"I'm too tired to go," added Soccer Dude.  "I'd still like dessert though."

An hour later with a sweet treat in tummies and children snuggled up in their respective beds we ended Day Two of our grand southern adventure!

We slept soundly in the magical town of Granada.