At home, we always leave a key in the inside lock of our front door. That key has been there since we moved in 4 1/2 years ago. It’s an old door, and that’s the only way to lock it when we’re home. It’s also the only way to lock the door from the inside of our apartment in San Sebastian. But here’s what we learned on this rainy evening at 9:15pm, after we’d left to go to dinner, and I’d run back upstairs to retrieve my phone: If you leave the key in the inside lock of THIS front door, you will need a locksmith to reenter the apartment.
Being stuck outside in the rain when it’s just you and your husband could be kind of romantic. It could lead to a night of adventure, something you’d tell dramatic stories about years later. Being stuck outside in the rain with two young children is an absolute catastrophe.
And thus we re-learned a lesson we sometimes forget: Travel is hard. Travel with two kids under 5? It’s even harder.
I’ll admit it: The trip over here made us cocky. The kids slept through our flights like angels. They delighted at each new plane. All three of them. They dozed in airport waiting lounges, charmed fellow passengers, shared their airplane snacks. They were thrilled with the color (silver!) of our very Euro rental car. They oohed and ahhed with us at our oceanfront apartment.
“Why would anyone think this was hard?” we asked ourselves. “It’s downright blissful.”
You know what’s not blissful? Dealing with two jet-lagged, off-their-routine children when you’re in the same situation yourself. Derek just wants to nap. And all I want to do is complain about the fact I’m currently mostly deaf in one ear because I flew with a bad head cold and it still hasn’t popped.
But I can’t languish in self-pity because, out of the ear that actually works, I hear Harper refusing her gourmet Spanish pintxo (that’s Basque for “tapas”) in favor of a PB&J, despite that the fact that the PB portion of that sandwich is largely unavailable on this side of the Atlantic. And when I realize we’ve forgotten Walker’s swim diapers and go to the Pharmacia to try to buy some, the pharmacist replies with something along the lines of, “That’s a stupid American custom we don’t abide by over here, you high-maintenance idiot.” (My Spanish is terrible, but that’s definitely what her expression read.) “Look at that ancient church!” we say. “We want to watch Curious George,” they reply.
Every family has their rhythm, and we’re going to find ours. But for now, I’ll just be happy that we were able to find an after-hours locksmith.
OH MY WORD!! THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL! I CAN TELL THAT I’M GOING TO LOVE READING THESE!
Thanks, Mitt! We know you can understand our crazy kiddos’ antics.
Brilliant! I guess its the experiences, good and bad, that make a trip. Here’s to hoping that all your future experiences are good!
Agreed, Rico! Even as it was happening, we knew being locked out on a rainy night in Spain was going to make an excellent story! We’re not going to make it to London this time, but we’d love for you to come visit us in Nashville once we’re back, truly.
One afternoon in Split, Croatia, after 3 straight days of rain and with our wonderful 3 and 5 year old travelers in tow, we set off for the highest point in the town, which was a park that we also read had a zoo at the very top. We got to the top of the park after much whining, carrying, and promise of snacks. There was an amazing playground built largely out of old trees, the kids set off to play and we sat down to enjoy the quiet and the views of the Adriatic. What there was not was a working zoo, as promised…and while there were bathrooms, they were Turkish toilets with no toilet paper. And Miles needed to go #2…or so he told me until we got to the bathroom and I realized he already had. With his slightly stained shorts turned inside out and his underwear tossed out, we headed back to discover that Lucille had peed her pants while not being willing to exit the merry-go-round (probably because we don’t have them in the US and it was so cool to see one). As we began the 20 min walk home, it started to pour and it rained for the next 15 mins. I don’t actually remember what happened next, and we decided to call it Poop Park, but funny…while it was probably our worst day in the moment, I am smiling as I write this…
I am LOVING your blog. It is so exactly our experience traveling with the kids. So different, so limiting in some ways, but so much more expansive in others. Hope you all are having an amazing time! Excited to follow!
Erin (and the O’Hara-Block family)