Hola,
When we left you last time I was peeling off my tight white sangria stained pants from the San Fermin festival, while Krys was contemplating what might have been if she had taken up the potential Trent substitute on his offer. But with the real (and underwhelming) Trent in the drivers seat we all piled into our Euro people mover for one more drive to our final city before the reality of home comes crashing in again. But first it was on to San Sebastian.
And what a place it was to finish; in one of our favourite cities in the world. San Sebastian is blessed with two beautiful beaches and a network of laneways littered with bars wedged in between. And the whole scene is wrapped in the Spanish culture of late nights, food and wine – it’s hard to find a more enjoyable place on earth. And we were well and truly in the “you don’t remember money” part of the trip so were staying in a beautiful apartment perched directly across from the beach. We always figured that we could sell a child or a kidney (they’re not really functioning now anyway) if we needed some funds for a final bottle of pinot to finish off our travel festivities.
Our first night out in San Sebastian had us stumbling onto a familiar European scene; two women being entertained by a group of 4 guys. The women had American accents while the guys were unmistakably Australian (thongs for dinner was a giveaway). And it was clear to see that it was game on, and with a game within a game. Mr Hat Backwards had targeted Cute Blonde No 1 and while his mates played decoy by joking with her friend (if you could call it “joking” – the banter was so poor I was waiting for a “pull my finger” joke) he was pulling out all of his Aussie charm with silky phrases like “have youse been here long?”.
I was doing some pretty high quality work myself at the time. Just because you are married it doesn’t mean that you should stop trying to charm your wife so as I cringed while I listened to Mr Hat Backwards stumble through some painful lines, I was regaling my wife with stories dripping with humour and interest. Nothing pleases me more to see the intellectual stimulation laced with desire just light up her face as I throw out some of my finest wordsmithing. Just call me Mr Cunning Linguist.
But while my silky tones were hitting the mark, Mr Hat Backwards was struggling for traction. Then came the ultimate shutdown from Cute Blonde No 1. As Mr Hat Backwards asked about how often she came to San Sebastian she casually slipped in “oh we’ve been here a bit. It was so nice of my husband to look after our 3 kids while I came away for the weekend with my friend”. In that moment you could see Mr Hat Backwards mentally tally how much he’d spent on sangria (given he was in thongs he could at least make it to 20), and what the minimum amount of time was before he could make a hasty retreat. The rejection was clean but brutal and the boys remembered some other thing they had to be at before 10 minutes was up.
While our nights were filled with restaurants and bars (just for something different) our days were filled with lazing on the beautiful beach. And being a European beach the cuts of swimming attire could again be described as “aggressive”. Thankfully after 4 months of eating and drinking my once loose board shorts had morphed into the super tight Euro trunks that the men swanned around in. Unfortunately my super tight Euro trunks showed off lumps in all the wrong places (too low on sausage, too high on muffin). But I still managed to loll about like an overfilled water balloon while the girls alternated between getting knocked over by waves and rolling in sand until they resembled a kid schnitzel.
What we did find during our time in San Sebastian was the weather was very stormy in the evening. Beautiful beach days would normally give way to some storms around 7pm which just happened to correspond with the time we were wheeling some sleeping kids in prams out of the apartment to head out for dinner and drinks. So while we should probably just take that as our cue to tuck the kids into bed and order Uber Eats, Uber would not deliver 5 litre jugs of sangria. So our only option obviously was to try and wrap the prams in garbage bags (with holes punched for air) as best we could, wait for gaps in the rain and make a run for it.
There was one restaurant that was close to us but this one brought back bad memories of our last trip to San Sebastian pre-kids. It was the scene of the infamous meat and cheese plate tug-of-war of 2010 where Krys almost got into a fight with an over zealous waiter who seemed intent on confiscating the last slice of mortadella. But the rain had parted just long enough to allow us to make it to this pit stop, so the local Spaniards were treated to two parents sprinting through torrential rain pushing two sleeping children hidden under garbage bags pooling with water.
But it was getting clear during our time in San Sebastian that the girls were ready for home. This was brought home one day when we took the girls to the aquarium. The excitement and animated discussions that the girls were having with the fish suggested that mum and dad’s standard conversations around what cheese goes best with wine at 10am were wearing a bit thin. When Millie wheeled around and said “I was just talking to the eel and we had so much fun. He is now my best friend” it was clear that some more child interaction was probably required. And sure I would often communicate at her child like level (unintentionally) but this was proving insufficient to hold her interest for much longer.
So it was with incredible sadness that we began the long journey home. The most amazing time of our lives had come to a close – and when it was all done we realised that the most precious thing about the trip wasn’t where we had been (although drinking wine in some in some amazing places in Europe didn’t hurt) but it was the ability to spend so much time together. Time not constrained by the day to day chores like cutting lunches. As we said our goodbyes to San Seb and kissed our children thankfully for the time of our lives, the looks of joy and appreciation on their faces made it all worthwhile.
I’ve learnt a lot – I’ve learnt that my wife is even more amazing than I thought with an almost limitless depth of patience (and believe me, I’ve explored Mariana Trench levels of her patience with some of my characteristics). I feel so lucky to have spent this time with her. I’ve also learnt our children are amazing, resilient and very different – both adorable and frustrating in their own ways (like their dad?? – although they are much more heavily tilted towards the adorable side).
When you spend every moment of every day with someone for 4 months, you really do have nowhere to hide. There is no ability to sweep those little irritations under the carpet so after some open discussions, Krys and I managed to narrow down the key frustrations for each of us. The below is no reflection of balance as we kept it to the top two – while I struggled to find just two for Krys, her selection was like trying to choose your two favourite words out of “War and Peace”. What we came to was:
Krys:
- Can’t hang up towels
- Can’t put lids back on bottles
Trent:
- Can’t put the empty toilet roll in the bin
- Can’t put groceries away (I dump them on the table)
There were also a few key things we learned on our trip, which may be helpful for anyone stupid enough to try travelling with young kids. These were:
- Mobility: prams changed our trip. We left with a concept of one child walking and one in a baby carrier. By the end of Day 1 it felt like we were pinned to a 2 block radius as Liv hated being in the carrier and Millie’s “legs got tired” after 10 meters. I remember looking at Krys after an aborted exploration mission and receiving an order to “go and find a pram now”. If I thought Westfield Miranda was terrifying, that was nothing compared to a Barcelona equivalent where everything is in Spanish and the layout lacks any form of intuitive logic. Lucky I didn’t come home with a Thermomix and a bed pan.
- Take snacks: even a small trip to a local playground involved packing like we were setting off an an expedition to discover new lands. Hungry kids (and husbands) are sh#tty kids (and husbands). Nothing worse than having a beautiful morning cut short because you forgot some cut apple and a fistful of Cruskits
- Aim low: We made sure we didn’t try to do too much, and only moved cities every 5 days at a minimum. Packing as grown ups can be painful. Packing with children that involves a hard target search of every crevice of accommodation to ensure that no toys are left behind that could lead to a complete child meltdown is very painful (we found Peter Rabbit in the base of the oven at one point).
- Always try, you can always retreat: We went into the trip thinking that we’ll give it a go, and if the kids blow up after a few weeks we’ll just come home. Likewise when we went out for dinners while away. If it all turns to shit you can just retreat. But there is no harm in trying.
Then the countries we visited. They all had their quirks, but a brief summary would be:
- Italy: like that crazy friend that is so much fun but can be frustrating some times. Then when you really need them, they are there for you (the help we got when Olivia dived head first onto a concrete floor was incredible)
- France: like the pretty girl who thinks she can get away with anything because of her beauty. Until one day you look and realise she isn’t worth the effort
- Spain: like that fun friend that you enjoy spending time with, but by the time they really get going you are tired and just want to go to bed
- Croatia: the beautiful girl who is only just starting to realise it, and is still looking for acceptance. So much fun and friendliness, although mealtime is still hit and miss
I will truly miss being able to spend every moment of the day with my favourite people in the world.
Trent, Krystal, Emelia and Olivia (we left the eel behind)
smallthoughts 