I’m not sure what would have tested our loving bond of matrimony more: having me drive with the husband navigating, or having the husband drive with me navigating. I was the one who renewed my international driver’s license so I was the one behind the wheel much to Fellow’s chagrin. He always drives. I love to drive, absolutely love it, and I’m good at it, but I hate a back seat driver so…that’s the way it ends up between us. The driver’s seat and the left side of the bed, my life long sacrifice for the peace and tranquility of my immediate family.
I have to say, it could have been worse. I think we were both trying to be on our best behaviour. And I think it’s only fair to mention that being a first responder, Fellow has seen far too many MVAs to take driving lightly. And when one is feeling responsible for the satefy of all one’s beloveds crammed into a tin can barreling down a two way cobblestoned street that should only be fit for a unicycle…it can be hard on the nerves. So, there certainly was some swearing and some throwing of the phone and the agonized out cry to the seemingly indifferent God in the heavens, “Why, why, why is it turning us around?! We just passed this street!” I met these outcries with my “dulcet tones” a forced gentle patronizing voice, you know the one. Then I would get out of the car, allow my body to shake a bit, wipe away a tear and then proceed to be sarcastic for the next half an hour. Awesome tactic. Works so well.
Our road trip’s focus was Salvador Dali and the crazy pink palace in Figueres that houses three floors of his paintings sculptures jewels and art installations. He lived until he was 85 years old and actively created art for at least sixty of those years so….yeah…there was a lot to see!
Before we hit Figueres we stopped in the beautiful ancient part of Girona and had a whimsical lunch at a little hippy shack overlooking the canal called El Pati. It was brightly coloured and full of playful crafty things like a woolen hat lamp shade, felt figurines as table decor, funky paintings and odd sculptures. It was creaky and round roofed and hung over the canal like a flying fairytale boat. The food was fresh and inventive and delicious: chestnut soup, hand rolled empanadas, fresh salads…and a very good cappuccino. I suspect it was Pati herself who served us in her embroidered jeans and tank top.
Then we drove to Figueres and spent the afternoon at the wonder that is the Dali museum. It’s a huge pink palace covered in bread rolls and topped with gigantic white eggs. Scott joked about using them as a rock climbing wall to get to the top floor. The breadth of his work is incredible (no pun intended). Nora quite liked the fact that Dali was reviled by art schools and organizations in Spain and Italy and yet kept on doing his thing until he had some prominent showings in the USA and France. How did he persevere? Did he know he was a genius and trusted the world would catch up eventually or was he simply compelled to do what he must and the rejection didn’t stop him? Either way, his audacity is inspiring.
What a vast body of work. His portrait of Picasso was there and his Mae West apartment installation. I always found his famous paintings viscerally disturbing and emotionally alienating though intellectually stimulating because of their ingenuity and incredible technique. Dali’s use of light…I can just tell right away it’s him. Anyway, seeing a larger collection of his work gave me a much greater sense of his utter playfulness, bawdiness and – well – he just did whatever the F he wanted, that Dali. As Fellow put it, “I think some of this is absolute genius and some of it is just dolls dressed up in weird shit.” The kids were quite intrigued, especially with the optical illusion work.
Then we drove towards Cadaqués to catch the sunset and have dinner. We hadn’t seen the coast of Spain yet. Google maps failed us again so we got turned around and by the time we actually arrived it was well after the pink left the skies. The drive was a series of hairpin turns up and down two mountains, not for the faint of heart. By the time we hit the famous shore the whole family was like, “GET ME OUT OF HERE BEFORE I VOMIT!!!!” But oh no, I had to find the restaurant that had the best rating by foodies….We drove around the windy backstreets for a while and I finally just gave up, not wanting to create a familial rift that would take years to repair.
We spilled out of our little innocent white rental and parked along the wharf. As soon as the sea air hit our lungs we all breathed deeply and felt renewed by the freshness and beauty around us. I wish I could see the white and blue of Cadaqués in the daytime but there is a magic to seeing it at night too: all the hotels and restaurants and homes perched along the cliffs with their twinkling friendly windows lit up. It was soothing to hear the sound of home, the sea. We ended up at La Gritta pizzeria (to my delight I had remembered it getting a good review – I hate eating bad food) We should have ordered the pizza, it looked fantastic, but we felt like some thing hearty I guess and all ordered pasta and salads. They were all delicious. I had a generous pasta vongole (I can’t get over these fresh Spanish clams, so good) Nora went for pesto and the boys had a purple potato gnocchi with Gorgonzola and walnut: yum! We drove home easily.
That night I had a dream that I was feeling my upper lip and suddenly noticed I had a long curled black moustache. I tried to pull it off my face and realized it was attached. It was such a disturbing dream I woke up with a start and felt my smooth upper lip with great relief. I looked over at my sleeping husband and his dear wide white shoulders. The church clock struck three. Gee the kids have been great little travelers, truly. So appreciative and open to all the experiences and easy going with the ups and downs. They put on their headphones and listen to their music when we’re squabbling and they look away and roll their eyes when we kiss and make up. I tip toe downstairs and grab a glass of water, cautious in case there are bugs. I’ll have to be more patient tomorrow. I feel my smooth upper lip once more and smile at the carnival house of a day we had.
