Spain Trip
We woke up at 3:10 AM for a 5:50 AM flight. It is always a horror getting up that early but the benefit is that the flights are usually wide open and there is little traffic on the way there. There were 100 empty seats on the 5:50 AM flight where we might have been pushing our luck on the 8:10 AM with only one or two seats available.
We made it to LAX without issue at 7:10 AM and since our nonstop to Madrid wasn’t scheduled until 5:50 PM we rented a car and made our way to Santa Monica Pier after a brief stop at the IHOP for breakfast. Scouting the area in VR was helpful as I knew to park at a smaller parking lot for an easy in and out instead of the main, large parking lot where there could be some traffic.
Santa Monica beach is magnitudes better than our humble Pacifica Beach. For starters there are the wonderful swings that are so large it can be a challenge, requiring some very strong push and pulls to even get going. It was reminiscent of first learning to swing where you put in a lot of effort but don’t move much. After the swings it was to the pier which we last visited 9 years ago. I told my son that on our last trip he was just a little guy and we went on the scrambler. He wanted to go faster and faster until the laughter stopped and he looked a bit frozen as the increasing spinning hit his limit. He let me know I’d told him that story already. I let him know that repeating stories is probably going to happen more and more as I get older.
Being so early, there wasn’t much activity but we did come across a very typical Southern California thing which was a yoga class at the end of the pier. We’d just missed the stretching and arrived at the meditation bit where the attendees were told to have their buttocks feel the earth and to concentrate on the breath. That advice is straight out of the Zen meditation guide and I was half tempted to join in attaching my own buttocks to Mother Earth. Kai had a good laugh.
We then went to rent some bikes and I’m very glad that I decided not to rent from the shop at the beginning of the pier as they overcharge and have crappy bikes. Instead I’d bookmarked a humble little bike rental shop aptly named “Humble Bike Rentals.” At first it looked a little sketchy as it was a box covered truck instead of a stationary store. It was run by a wonderful and friendly gentleman named Carl from Michigan with whom I chatted for a good 15 minutes.
As VR had accurately shown, the bike path is separate from the walking path and it goes a long way, so long that I’m not sure where it even ends. We rode all the way down to the skate park and had fun not only watching the talented skaters but also listening to them speak.
“Bro, that’s sick”
“How’s the stem cell treatment bro?”
“Fuck, man it’s sick and I’m healing.”
Kai mentioned that it sounded like something out of a ‘90s movies and I was inclined to agree.
We then left the bike trail and walked back on the pedestrian path next to the shops. It was the usual tourist junk you’d find on Pier 39 but with some colorful and inappropriate t-shirt shops. The shops ended and we hopped on our bikes again. My favorite spectacle was “Boot Camp on the Beach” or something similarly named where about 50 people were doing all kinds of exercises on a small patch of grass. That looked enticing and being Santa Monica, expensive.
We returned the bikes and made our way to the pier again as it was much more lively and crowded just an hour later from our first visit. One of the most interesting things we saw the the LAPD helicopter doing a fly-by as it swooped up and down the beach. I wonder if they do that for the tourists sakes, to keep any mischief makers in line, or both.
After we’d had our fill, we jumped back into the rental car and returned to the airport. It was then a long 5 hour wait until our flight. We’d tried to burn as much time as we could but found that four hours in Santa Monica/Venice beach to be sufficient.
Being in the airline industry we can fly for free on standby but it can and does cause anxiety. I can see how many seats are available on my own airline but not other airlines although the system gives an indicator, not always reliable, on the probability of open seats. Instead, we rely on an app where we can earn and burn credits answering questions about open seats on our own airline and relying on other airline employees to do the same on their planes. Iberia hadn’t responded to me and I’d been anxious for a week. If we weren’t able to get on the nonstop to Madrid, then we’d have to fly to London, Paris or Barcelona first, provided we could even get on those flights and then worry about the connection as well.
As Iberia hadn’t responded to me, thankfully my colleague did me a favor and asked the same question thinking that mine might have gotten buried. It worked. He sent me a text that his request had been answered and there were 79 open seats in Economy, an amazing amount ensuring I could let my anxiety fade away. I’m writing this post as we cross the Atlantic Ocean with only 3 and a half hours left on the flight.
This trip is somewhat surreal for me. Toledo has held a very special place in my heart since I studied there 27 years ago, returning only twice and both times within the last five years. The first a trip of nostalgia where I resurrected all those incredible feelings and memories from my colleague days with help from vino tinto. The second trip was with my wife and mother, less reminiscing and more tour guiding.
This time however, feels much different. We’ll see what emotions and memories are conjured when I’m off this plane and back in that wonderful medieval city but I’m getting the sense that with my son, the nostalgic chapter of my feelings about Toledo have come to a close and those old ghosts have faded into very distant memory. This trip begins a new chapter of Toledo, where I’m a 47 year old father, no longer thinking about my own past, but rather hoping to inspire my son with language, culture and history for his future.
This is our first father/son trip. Traveling has always been a family affair and with all of us together, it feels so natural. With just my son, I feel differently. I see just him, and feel an enormous amount of responsibility; it is a feeling I do not have when traveling with the entire family unit even though there are more people. I look and him and wonder where my little guy went and who this big guy is? The little guy always wanted to chat and play with me. This guy prefers to spend time in his room playing video games with his friends. He used to ask “Dad, can we talk about stuff?” It is more difficult to kickstart the “talking about stuff” these days. I’ve always loved him very much, usually demonstrated by at least four hugs a day. But as we’re now thousands of miles from home, an even stronger feeling of love has materialized, even if “talking about stuff” doesn’t come as naturally as it used to.
We’re now about three hours from Madrid and I assume the flight crew will be starting the breakfast service soon. The world is changing rapidly and I assume there have been even more integration changes. Will they still pass out those little immigration cards, or will it be all touch screen as soon as we arrive. I’ve read that soon, Europe will implement a system where you have to apply for permission to visit and pay a fee before you even leave. Slightly over one hundred years ago you could just abscond to another country and become a citizen. Now, there are photos, fingerprints, questions and severe penalties should you overstay a small sojourn. More surveillance, more tracking, more rules, all accumulating to somewhat of a burden to travel. I’m quite certain this will only increase but hopefully it doesn’t get to the point where travel is absolutely discouraged which seems to be happening, at least to the USA currently.
Anyway, my relief at getting on this flight persists and only a slight anxiety remains. The next hurdle is becoming comfortable with driving in Spain as I’m renting a car and thus driving in Spain for the first time. I’ve driven in Japan so have experience in a foreign country but according to my nature, I need to do something at least once before I feel relatively comfortable.
We’ll soon be in Toledo and I really hope my son enjoys it. He’s a young teenager and I’m not really sure what activities would really make him smile, except for video gaming with his friends. I don’t expect Spain to elicit absolute joy but am hoping to instead, instill a sense of wonder as we’re surrounded by a different culture and language. I hope he’ll gain a sense of awe as we visit a medieval city, and about 30 minutes away, a medieval castle that no tourists visit. I hope he’ll enjoy the Flamenco show and feel the vibrant pulse of Madrid.
I let him know that Madrid, so far, has been overlooked by the social media influencers. They’ve discovered Japan, Paris, and Barcelona but not Madrid. This works to our benefit as there are 79 empty seats on this plane where the flight to Barcelona only had four. I’m very happy that he’ll now have an experience in Europe too since one friend went to Austria and another is going to London. I let him know that I’ve been to most countries in Europe and can say with certainty that Spain is the best of them all. Further north you’ll encounter less smiles, less of a determination to enjoy life.
