San Sebastian to the perfect sunset

Because of our fabulous procrastination skills we were up well into the early morning packing up all of our belongings (and parting with quite a bit too) into our heavy, oversized backpacks, getting ready for our journey. On less than 3 hours of sleep the several alarms that we set rudely awoke us at 5am to catch our 6am train out of San Sebastian. We crept out of the place we considered home for the last 2 months and into the cool dark morning we set out for Paris. The train ride was nice and relaxing and scenic, passing the vinyards of Bordeaux, where bright purple grapes hung from vines neatly scattered across the land, and other little French cities that reminded me of something from a movie. We arrived in Paris in the early afternoon and immediately threw all of our luggage into these amazing huge lockers at the station and headed out. I have to say, nothing beats Paris in the middle of the changing of the seasons from summer to fall. The cool crisp air mixed perfectly with the bright warm sun. Golden, brown and orange fall leaves covered the million tree tops throughout the city and lightly fluttered one by one to the ground. In the months to come, the ground will be covered. We walked and walked from the lively, exotic Latin quarter where we grabbed a baguette sandwich, to the grand beautiful Notre Dame, passed the Louvre where we remembered seeing the Mona Lisa from our first trip, to the famous, busy Champs Elysees with designer shops to the Arch de Triumph and finally to the Eiffel tower where the sun set, casting a pink, orange glow behind the enormously beautiful tower. I enjoyed a Nutella crep and couldn’t help thinking it doesn’t get any better than that - a warm soft crep oozing with creemy rich gooey Nutella, during a marvelous sunset at the Eiffel tower...unforgetable.

Adios Summer!

Summer is unofficially over here in Europe. It is perfectly common for Europeans to take the whole month of August off completely to travel and vacation with family and friends. We even came across businesses, small shops or hotels looking completely deserted with signs posted on the door saying "closed for August." I think Europeans have it right with this one. Who wants to work when the days are long, the sun is shining and the ocean is constantly begging to be jumped into? However, once the first of September came it's back to work, back to school and back to responsibilities. The tourists are few and far between, the beaches are somewhat deserted now, the shops are back in business on regular schedules, the days are getting shorter and the rain has been gracing us with its presence. The last 2 days have been gloriously sunny though, with an almost-fall feel. We are enjoying our last week in San Sebastian with long walks throughout the city day and night, runs along the coast, Sean surfing, and me beach lounging with a good (or really cheesy) book.


And...we have a big adventure planned! We leave here next week and head to Paris. I adored Paris the first time in the midst of the coldest winter of my life and am looking forward to being back with slightly nicer weather. From Paris we go to Brussels for a night for some waffles, then Amsterdam for a few days to witness what is known as the most liberal city in Europe, then we fly to Prague for a few days, Berlin for a few days and Munich for a few days. I am really excited to see some completely different cities and some new countries.

La Zurriola Surf

I can't take credit for these photos. Sean's brother, Jacob, has a super fast, super fancy camera, that I decided I have to have someday, and he was able to get some great shots of Sean surfing while visiting last week. I have to say, sitting and watching the surfers in the water is very fun and entertaining. Sean had a great time out there too, and felt good to know that his fans, Ethan, Jacob, Alyssa and Andrea were all watching.

Hossegor part deux

We got home yesterday night from our second visit to Hossegor, France. Early Wednesday morning, and by early I mean 10am, we sleepily caught a train to our friendly neighboring country so Sean could catch some of the tastiest waves in Europe and I could do what I am best at, lay in the sun and wish I was French. The day was gorgeous, hot and sunny, and nothing but bright blue skies painted above our heads. When we arrived to Hossegor, I decided to do some shopping, which I wasn't able to do the first time around. After realizing I am only attracted to items 300 euro and over, I gave up and we headed to the beach - my only purchases being a beach umbrella and a hat to protect me from the blaring sun. I am not sure if I am getting old or what, but there was once a time when I sat in the sun for hours upon end without a worry in the world. Now, I am like an old lady, covered up, shaded from the sun and lubed up with sunscreen - quite a contrast to the half-naked French lounging around me in the sun. The day was fantastic, we spent the whole day on the beach, only breaking about 12 times for me to eat the fresh, delicious food that I love so much, just the usual - chocolate pastries, baguettes, cheeses, sandwiches, ice cream, etc...eh hem. As the sun set, we sat at an outdoor restaurant on the beach, where I indulged in a glass of some red wine. I've gotten in the habit of trying to speak French based on what I read on the menu - usually butchering the words completely, however I loved that the waiter just kindly smiled and corrected me, pleased at my effort. We decided to start looking for a place to sleep for the night.

Since we don't have such keen planning skills these days, we didn't book a hotel, and the last bus to the station had long gone. Of course, all 5 hotels in Hossogor were "complet", so we sat in the midst of the surprisingly very happening night life trying to think of plan B. As we sat there, 2 very inebriated French guys sat a little too close to me, trying desperately to have a conversation in French/English/Spanish/Italian with us. They were actually very hilarious, and we sat there for about an hour, listening to their interesting views of California where the girls are "easy" for French guys and political views of how much they love Obama. At one point one guy decided to name all of the U.S. presidents he knew and the other listed all the punk rock bands from California that he loved. They were even nice enough to offer us sips of beer from their tall cans, which we graciously declined. So, plan B for the night turned out to be going to the neighboring town of Cabreton. There are absolutely no night buses in this area, so we walked for about 10 miles in total, finally stopping at a hotel that was also complet. However, as I was about to ask if we could sleep in the lobby, the amazingly helpful concierge said he had one room reserved that the people hadn't checked in for yet. He made some phone calls, all of which I didn't understand, and miraculously the room became available to us, even at a decent rate. Gosh, I love the French.

The next morning, we explored Cabreton for a while, which is also a cute, very tiny little beach town with not much to it. We grabbed a cafe, which I have to say is one thing the French know nothing about. Italy is truly the only place to get a decent espresso or cafe, pretty much in the world. The cafe is exceptionally bad in France. However, the friendly lady serving us was just adorable. She spoke perfect English and actually guessed that we were from San Diego...we were shocked until she giggled and pointed out that Sean had a USD t-shirt on. She even taught me how to say five in French, which I quickly forgot. She was so happy and cheerful and welcoming, I almost wanted to just hang out with her. The people really make a difference when you travel.
We walked back to Hossegor, and Sean was on a mission to catch some tasty waves (my new favorite expression for some reason). To do that he insisted on walking well over a mile down the beach from the main town (the actual distance debatable depending on which one of us you ask) to the world famous surf spot, La Graviere, which was "barreling hard and heavy". We spent the whole day on the beach again, the only down side being that the waves were too big for me to go in the water! I am a wimp though, and remained safely under the shade of my umbrella and made faces at the cute little French baby that I had cracking up all afternoon. Her parents didn't seem to mind either. Then we walked the well-over-a-mile back to town to have some lunch and ice cream in the hot, hot sun, and then up to town to catch the last bus back to the station to take us home to San Sebastian. Good trip.

E arrivato il tempo...

As I listen to music now that we once woke up to every day in Rome, and look through pictures of everyday moments turned into the happiest of times in each of the passing seasons, I can't help but feel a bit nostalgic - for Rome, for teaching, for just waking up everyday to new extraordinary experiences. I remember back to the days leading up to our departure from the comforts of the U.S. I was emotional, scared and a little nervous for what my uncertain future would hold. I remember that feeling well, because it is how I feel now. We made the decision a long time ago, that we would only live in Europe for a year - get the most out of it, travel to as many places we could, experience as many cultures possible and soak in the Italian lifestyle to the full capacity. A year has come and gone, and we are faced with the uncertainty of returning back to the U.S., which feels like this big, scary, unfamiliar place now. I imagine returning being like meeting with old school friends for the first time in ages - you know you once were close but aren't sure you have much in common anymore. We've procrastinated buying plane tickets home, trying to weigh the pros and cons of staying or leaving, trying to imagine life in one place or another. We have been dodging making this life-altering decision, but like a rain cloud hovering in the sky threatening to ruin a sunny day, the inevitable is fast approaching. Like going back to school after the best summer of your life, like abruptly ending a romantic whirlwind relationship, like reaching a crossroad and both directions seem right and wrong at the same time....for now we will enjoy every moment here and buy our plane tickets home when that moment arrives.

Hossegor

It's no secret that I adore France. I am not sure I can describe why completely, but when we cross that little border, I feel so good, so happy and so at peace. It's like the French are so cool, calm and chic, even nice. When they speak it's like music to my ears, such a simply sweet sound. Everything seems natural, from the food to the merchandise sold in the little shops - like everything is crafted with care to be pretty and pleasing to every sense. The atmosphere of the smaller cities - clean and friendly and charming in every way. It's like the little colorful villages smile on visitors, and invite you to enjoy the cool, relaxing lifestyle.

We went to Hossogor, a little French beach village, famous for having the best surf in all of Europe. The small town consisted of literally 2 short main intersecting streets, lined with all the famous surf shops plus smaller beach boutiques, bakeries, and sandwicherias and 1 street that lead to the beach. The hot sun showered the beach, packed full of French sunbathers and surfers. Ice cream shops selling special soft serve ice cream that claims to be Italian, sweet-smelling waffles and traditional French creps with chocolate, lined the mile-long boardwalk. We arrived to Hossogor by 2 different trains and a bus that remained stuck behind an oil truck moving slower that it would have been to walk, the whole winding way there. After picking up egg sandwiches on the best bread known to man, we sat in the sun for hours. Sean had to coax me into the water like a small child because I was afraid of the waves. Of course once I got the courage to go in, after standing on the shore for about an hour, I got pummeled by a wave and ended up covered from head to toe in wet sand. That was it for me, and I remained on the safe, hot sand, while Sean body surfed until it was time to catch our bus back. I couldn't resist a fresh cool vanilla, chocolate ice cream, while waiting for the bus on the wrong side of the road. Luckily we got to the correct bus stop in time for the last bus of the day to take us to the station, after some friendly French people used sign language to tell us where to go. We had a fantastic day and Hossogor is just another reason for me to love France.

Surfing the Basque region

Sean has been surfing lots lately, and I have been practicing my photography skills. We love the surf culture here. There are always waves, and always a lot of people in the water - good, bad, old, young, boys, girls, long boards, short boards. After almost a year of living in Rome, it is nice to be surrounded by something from our roots, enjoying the beach and water.