Hola,
When we left you last time (Episode 4.5 aside) we were finishing up in Seville, and taking our travelling circus to Ronda. Which isn’t easy when you are lugging 3 suitcases, 2 bags, 2 kids mini suitcases with toys, a pram and of course the two kids. We had a discussion around travelling as light as we could on this trip but I think Krys and I took different interpretations from the discussion. While I get around in my one pair of pants (which the girls delight in smearing with food within 5mins of any wash) the girls have 4 sets of pyjama and about 10 toys each. And yet Olivia’s two favourite posessions are a Coke can ring pull and a button she found on the ground. Go figure….
Apart from lugging so much stuff around this time, another huge change from previous travel is the time it takes to leave the house. Pre-kids it was wake up, put on some clothes and walk out to find breakfast in a cafe while looking at a map then explore the city. Total time from wakeup to walk out would be 15mins tops (add 2mins if it was a make-out morning and another 1min if I was feeling needy and wanted a cuddle afterwards). But with kids it is get up, have breakfast, get dressed, have another breakfast (because they didn’t like the first one), get re-dressed (of course they spilled breakfast no 2 all over themselves), cut fruit for the day, fill water bottles, do toilet trips, find shoes, put on shoes, walk out, make 10 steps before returning for another toilet trip, realise they have somehow become barefoot so look for lost shoes and put them on again then walk-out. Whole process takes about 3hrs. And this has become so frustrating that I may occassionally mutter some phrases under my breath. I need to modify these as when we walked out this morning, after about 5 steps Olivia stated ‘I need to do wees and poos’. As I groaned loudly Millie turned and said ‘oh for f#ck sake Olivia’. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or just agree with Millie’s sentiment? But my under breath muttering must need a solid clean up.
The Spanish town of Ronda (once we finally got there) was beautiful; narrow, cobblestone laneways bounded by beautiful pastel coloured buildings and all constructed on top of a huge hill. We decided we had to enjoy the view so took the chance to have some lunch while Olivia was asleep (our meal times revolve around her lack of consciousness – it’s easier that way). But as I tried to manoeuvre Olivia in the pram to a quiet spot in the restaurant I backed into a German couple enjoying their lunch, and my arse sent their red wine flying across the table. After searching Google translate for German translations for phrases such as ‘I’m sorry – my arse has grown more than I thought in 3 weeks’ (which in case you ever need it is ‘es tut mir leid – mein arsche ist in 3 wochen mehr gewachsen als ich dacht’) I bought some replacement drinks and quietly left.
Probably with my oversized arse on my mind Krys and I decided to make the walk down from the town to the water at the bottom of the gorge in Ronda. Looked implausible carrying two kids and dressed for lunch but our motto on this trip has been to always bite off more than we can chew, then chew like hell. It became apparent it wasn’t an overly sensible idea when an Indian man stopped us half way down to ask where we were going. When we told him he looked at our shoes and two kids in our arms before asking to take a photo. He then stated ‘I need evidence of this – you guys are crazy’ before recommending his ascent in suitable hiking gear. We made it though, and it was worth it just to see Olivia revel in the beautiful view.
The next day we did the walk from the other side and found it immeasurably tougher. Only realised afterwards that the difference was we had lunch first. So as well as carting two kids we also had about 1kg of ham, a wheel of cheese, 10 croquettes and a bottle of wine on board. Made for a heavy trip.
Our trip wrapped up with a concerned Spanish waitress – Krys and I had booked a flamenco show with dinner and drinks. The girls were meant to be asleep but of course Millie was too excited to let mummy and daddy have some quiet time. So she was awake for the entire performance. At one point the Spanish waitress came over with a concerned look on her face and was saying ‘peligro, peligro’. Krys and I kept sipping on our wine while I fumbled clumsily with Google translate to find out what she was saying. But her cries of ‘peligro’ became increasingly urgent. I finally got the English translation which meant ‘danger’ as the Spanish waitress pointed across the table with a stabbing motion. And there was Millie, trying to stab a piece of ice with a technique that would have made the blonde lady in the opening scene of Basic Instinct proud (was it Sharon Stone? I could never figure it out – was it wierd to watch that scene and think that if you were the guy it all might have been worth it?)….. So from here whilever we have wine we keep sharp implements away from Millie.
We have also spent some time in Granada, including an abridged visit to Alhambra (Millie doesn’t appreciate Spanish culture – she said the castle and palace was boring. We pointed out that playgrounds aren’t exactly a pocket full of sparkles for us either. But then she cried so won). But more on that later…..
Adios
Trent, Krystal, Olivia and a knife wielding Millie
smallthoughts 