Sunday...three weeks ago

On this lazy Sunday afternoon, I am remembering our last Sunday in Onyarbi.

We walked to the old city center, the Walled City, for the Medieval Festival--straw strewn all over the cobblestones, the vendors dressed in medieval costumes, fire throwing acts and other actors walking around, old world music.

Fire-Throwing Dance

Strange Medieval Creature

Music Machine

Medieval Marching Band

Around noon we walked through the San Nicolás Gate and left the walled city. 

The informational pamphlet says,

Hondarribia is, today, the only Gipuzkoa town that still retains its Renaissance walls.

Imagine that--while they celebrate medieval customs and and still have structures that date back to Roman times, our nation just celebrated only 234 years!

We crossed the bridge, over the old moat, into modernity to hear our own Amaia perform.

Hondarribiko Musika Eskolaka Banda

She is the very serious one on the right.

I began this reminiscing yesterday. I post it today, Monday, hoping you find time to enjoy it on this holiday.

2010 Project 365 #27

Fun and Games

Our first full week with Amaia we may have worn her out! Every day a new experience and most days two or more special activities. I will not tire you with photos of each and every one, even so there are more than one per day.

Monday:
Ivanhoe's--we met Laurie and another Basque girl and her hostess.
Game of LIFE--Amaia won.
Malachi's Little League game

Wonderful Monday Meal at Chef's and games of chess after.

Tuesday we took the three Basque girls to Connor Prairie where they stepped back in time and experienced a bit of life in the early 1800's. (More photos and commentary here.)

Wednesday was Fort Wayne zoo day and if that was not enough, we went to a water park on the way back. Two grandboys were along. Elijah said, "That was the bestest day ever.

Thursday we took the girls to a big shopping mall and then joined the crowds for Family Day at the Indianapolis Children's Museum.

Friday a second time to the Splash House for all kinds of water fun and more sunburn/tan? (That was the ongoing debate after--burn or tan?) The wave pool is new this year.

While they were there I went for a walk with my friend Viola. She rides her electric scooter and I trot along.

In the evening the Mississinewa Valley Band gave a concert in our church parking lot.

There was a large crowd, but we had back row seats in our friends, Dane and Laurie's yard next door.

After that we were off to another venue, downtown Marion First Friday where they showed The Blind Side on a big outdoor screen.

 But here we have front row seats and plenty of blankets for the night cold air.

How to explain the title to Amaia? The context is American football and because there is no Spanish equivalent, they gave it another title--Un sueño posible. For those readers who speak Spanish wordreference.com's forum explanation is  "se refiere a como el "offensive tackle" protege el ángulo muerto del "quarter back" en football americano."

It was past midnight when we got to bed, even so Mike got up early today, Saturday, and went for bike ride with two friends. However, he found a shorter way back and here he is raiding the fridge for nourishment.

I think he was simply too eager to watch the start of the Tour de France. The historic review of the 100 years of the stages in the Pyrenees was especially interesting having "been there done that", well...sort of.

And the day is not over yet. I stayed home, but the others went to Marion again for another concert and fireworks. Mike and Dane left earlier to watch the Marion Classic bike race.

The weather has been beautiful all week. We hope it accompanies us next week when we go camping.
Anyone else going camping this summer? Go to Sara's for more.

Monday/lunes/Lundi

European adventures continued...

So, that first Monday afternoon we went across for a paseo into France to see the other face of Basque Country and get a glimpse of the area where the guys had been cycling earlier that day, 57 miles in the foothills of the Pyrenees.
There are three Basque departments or provinces in France, so the formula for Euskal Herria (the Basque Country) is 4 + 3 = 1. We learned that on the French side they are much more into the folklore. You see the flag and the lauburu everywhere and on everything.

We walked, talked and gawked.

Some shops caught our attention for different reasons.

Sweets, macaroons, and Basque cake.

Skateboards!

A memorial to honor Basque fishermen, mariners, and corsaires--good pirates commissioned to prey on the commercial shipping or warships of an enemy nation?!

So much to see and learn!

And best of all the people!

Our day ended with a meal at Gonzalo and Elena's. He had prepared Spanish tortilla.

 

They are neighbors, colleagues and close friends of our hosts and share meals together once or twice a week. We felt immediately accepted into their circle. Gonzalo even loaned us a vehicle to use during our stay. 

 Thank you, Gonzalo and Elena!

2010 Week 26: Welcome back!

The week began with a welcome back dinner as a family and ended with a welcome dinner for our Basque teens. Most of the days in between were spent getting ready for Amaia's arrival.

We were eager to return to chef-son's Monday meal and be with that circle of friends again. The food was great!

A type of flat bread with wonderful pesto

Polenta with meat sauce, tomatoes, fried squash and goat cheese.

Fresh pineapple, sliced paper thin, with sherbet

. 

My camera stopped working in Europe, the lens refused to retract. I sent it in for repair or replacement, another reason why I've struggled with photos this week.

The World Cup holds our attention (and takes up our time!). Here next to the computer I have a pop can that I brought back from Spain. Of the seven possible collectibles, we were served Coca Cola from these cans. Is that cool or what?

Argentina won twice. I couldn't watch the game today, but am going online to look at the 600+ photos...or not.

Friday was the long/exciting/scary day. 

Very looooong for those traveling from Basque Country. Amaia's family got up at 3:30 to take her to the airport in Bilbao and the group finally arrived in Fort Wayne at 5:30 pm our time, near midnight their time.

There was much excitement at the airport, families with brightly colored welcome signs...and some scared bewildered faces of the new arrivals.

We did not have a sign this year, but could have stolen borrowed this one from another family:

These, BTW, are the names of the three girls in our Upland group; they are common Basque names.
As the bus drove by Dane and Laurie's house, next to our destination, we saw they had put up the Basque flag. We knew they would be so excited to see Amaia again, so we walked over to their house. As you can see we also welcomed our granddaughter Kayla for the month.

Saturday was Orientation and Welcome Dinner, and then all the young folk played some get-acquainted games.

Arantxa's Place

Our lodging for the ten days in Basque Country was a lovely apartment belonging to our host's sister, Arantxa. Her family was not going to be there any of those days, so we were graciously allowed to stay there.

Where the roses are growing through the fence is the back yard.

The first evening we had a lovely dinner on the terrace prepared by our host.

Laurie loved the flowers and plants and sweeping the patio first thing in the morning.

Alberto preparing a wonderful salad of tomatoes, tuna, corn, olives, fresh garlic, and of course olive oil. That was the first course, and the second was an amazingly tender and tasty cut of beef in sauce.

Before dinner we all went for a stroll along the river.

We could see the cliffs of France on the other side.

Then we came back to the gated community and to Arantxa's place.
I thought it interesting that they use the English word on the STOP signs.

I was especially amused by this sign: "We beg you to take control of your dog's poop."

On the last day we were privileged to meet Arantxa in another town where she works.

Thank you, Arantxa, Alberto et al!

Onyarbi

Fuenterrabía / Hondarribia / Onyarbi
Which name do you prefer?

Fuenterrabía is the Castillian name, Hondarribia is the proper Basque version, and Onyarbi is local jargon for the lovely town where our host family lives in the province of Guipúzcoa/Gipuzkoa.

I will go with the local name, it is shorter, more friendly... and makes me feel like an insider!

As we traveled throughout the Basque region we saw that most cities and towns had signs in both languages. Sometimes Spanish name first, others Basque first. However, Hondarribia uses only one, the Euskera. I asked about this and was told that each township decides. Obviously the Basque sentiment is strong in Onyarbi!

This town, on the Bidasoa river across from France, draws many many tourists.

The first morning we were there, after the guys left for their 50-60 mile training ride through the foothills of the Pyrenees, Laurie and I took off walking toward the downtown and the old town.

We stopped and talked to people and took many pictures.
The first person was Eugenia, an older woman sitting on a bench, soaking up the sun. She told us that her late husband of 50+ years had sat there every morning waiting for the bread man. He talked to everyone that came by. He told tourists exactly where to stand to get the best photo of the picturesque houses that used to belong to the fishermen.
One day, a while back, a visitor approached and begged to be allowed to ask a question.
"Go ahead," she said, "I'll answer if I can"
"Well, there used a be a gentleman sitting right there every day. Do you know about him?"
"Yes, that was my husband. He died a few years ago."
 Tourists have asked permission to take photos, and then requested her address, promising to send a copy. So we did the same.

More quaint houses, flower boxes, a store or business on the lower level...

 People milling about. It was a beautiful day.

 

We met 89 year old Manuel who told us much about the history of fishing in the region. He and his sons had worked in the industry for 50+ years. They caught tons and tons of tuna, a large variety, using poles.

He told us his name was one of the names of God. 

"Yes," I said, "It means God with us."

Laurie and I kept on wandering, taking our time, enjoying every moment, oblivious of the hour.

We ended up in the old walled city, el Casco Viejo. Finally we decided to stop for refreshment and WiFi in a small eatery--Bar San Nicolás.

It was there we realized it was 3:00 p.m. and there was a missed call on our cell phone.

Edurne, our hostess, just back from a day's work at the clinic, answered: "The guys have been back for awhile. You have the only key to the apartment."

 

Oh,  no! What to do? To walk back from where we were would have taken half an hour at a fast pace, and assuming we wouldn't get lost! So our gracious hostess, made some calls, and came for us, even though that put her in somewhat of a bind. She had to drive her eldest daughter to a nearby town to catch the train back to university in Barcelona.

 

That would not be the last time we would importune them, yet our hosts were so kind ALL the time.

To be continued...

On how to get lost in a foreign country

1. Take off running from your hotel without name and address of the place, don't even lock your room.

2. Don't bother taking a cell phone, but the camera is a must! You'll need it to record your adventure.

3. No time for breakfast or snacks. Just go, go, go. Have fun!

4. If after a couple hours of wandering you begin to feel hungry, tired, or lost, revive your high school language skills and begin to interact with the locals--an enriching experience.

5. Don't forget to take dozens of photos, there are fascinating sights everywhere you turn--quaint houses, historic architecture, parks, statues, people...

6. IF you eventually admit you are truly LOST and begin to worry about those who may be worried about you, go to the Tourism Office and ask for HELP.

7. With city map in hand, be aware of your surroundings at every turn.

8. Arrive at destination and apologize to ALL for suddenly and selfishly abandoning them in your wander lust!

Yes, this is what I did on the day of the guys big cycling event.

It all happened so quickly--the guys gathered on their bikes, off they went and so did I, running after them!
They had given the impression that the start was not that far away.
The women had not made a firm plan. There was talk of sleeping in, or maybe following the guys. Anyway, I thought we were on our own. I did, however, disregard Mike's last words, "Go with Edurne." Actually it was already too late, she had run after them, and she can really run!
As I was jogging, following the cyclists, I thought, "This is such a straight shot down, I could never get lost."
However, when you turn around to go back in the direction you came from, everything looks different. Suddenly there are forks in the road, the market stalls are being set up, people are milling about. The city as you remembered it is no longer there. After a few turns, shortcuts, and going around in circles, you lose all sense of direction. At one point I realized I had wandered into the next town.
But, hey, I DID get to video the hundreds of cyclists from a strategic corner. I was feeling so disappointed about missing the mass start, when I saw a whole line of patrol cars labeled La Pyrénéenne, followed by many official motorcycles and then the unending stream of riders whizzing by.

And an hour later, I talked to two women waiting for their men to come by in the second start, those doing the shorter route. I recorded that as well, because one from our group of friends was planning on that ride.

Here are some of the treasures from my adventure.

Every French town has a monument to honor their fallen.

...and lovely parks.

Old ornate churches...

...and a simpler Protestant church, the only one I saw in our European adventures.

And wonderful people!

This 84 year old man led me to my next landmark. He was fascinated by my world jacket; he had been a geography teacher for 30 years.

I had my geography and life lesson for the day.