Welcoming the Gherkin -- 22.Mar.2010

We're settling in, resting up, and adjusting to life with our new addition. We still call him gherkin, munchkin, pumpkin, and peanut, but he now has an official name that's not so ooey-gooey: Owen Fyfe Lindeloff - 7 lbs 13 oz, 21" long with momma's lips and daddy's hands by the looks of it.




Lindeloff is a family name from Matt's side (paternal grandmother's maiden name), which we've chosen to revive for our little family. Because we like it, and because it embraces a Scandinavian heritage that we share. We both plan on changing our legal last names as well, but keeping our current last names for professional purposes. You all can call us by either.

We're really happy, and looking forward to introducing you to the wee one...

Between then and now.

Two years since we've posted to the blog!?! Yikes. A LOT has happened since then.

Moved to Minnesota.


Matt started grad school. Got engaged. Amber got a job. Got married.


Got pregnant. Had a baby. Amber started grad school.


Whew! That's the skinny on the last two years.

We're posting some catch-up posts, and we'll keep this as up-to-date as our chronically late reputation would suggest.

So long, farewell...

Our last night was lovely. And turned into morning. We dropped by El Corte Ingles to pick up Serrano ham for dinner, booked a 9:00 pm reservation at a famous local flamenco spot, nibbled chocolate con churros at an unexpected music festival just around the corner from the flamenco tableau, and meandered the beautiful streets of Madrid by moonlight.

Hasta luego...

The flamenco performance was unbelievable. It was only our second flamenco outing, but there were four female dancers as well as a male performer. This fellow was unreal - though more conservative than the ladies, so sharp and precise. In his 10-15 minute performance he literally saturated his white buttoned shirt with sweat. The more flamenco we see, the more we understand Spain. Sometimes, reading up on something will only get you so far, and experience becomes the true teacher.

We've learned so much. Apart and together. About ourselves, each other, and the world. So, a toast, to future travels, many adventures, and to coming back home!

The Final Destination

On some level, we were hesitant to arrive in Madrid.  It was our final destination - our big trip, almost over.  At the same time, we couldn't bear to haul all our stuff around much longer, and once we were in Madrid, it was just one more schlep to the airport.  Just to give you an idea of what we're talking about, Matt carried an enormous backpack on his back, and a stuffed daypack on his front.  In addition, he almost always carried a bag in his hand as well as our poster tube.  Amber pulled the roller bag, had two shoulder bags, and a day pack on her front.  We are not destined to be sherpas.  

Visiting a sweetery = much happiness

Madrid, despite its reputation as big, busy and metropolitan, was delightful.  We found it easy to navigate, less touristy than we expected, and culturally fascinating.  It didn’t hurt that our hostal was amazing – inexpensive, clean but full of character, and run by an incredibly friendly Argentinian.  Our room was super-quiet, despite being right in the heart of the city.  And we had wireless internet AND a television to watch some of the Olympics.  Definitely a place we’d go back to (but why do we keep ending up on the blocks with the prostitutes?).  

Another local Spanish post office

The local train station, Atocha, houses a huge 4,000 square meter covered tropical garden (complete with turtles). This atrium occupies the covered platform area of the old terminal, converted when Atocha was expanded in 1992, and also contains shops, cafes and a nightclub.

Perhaps you'll share our surprise, this is the train station!

We hit Museo del Prado, Plaza Mayor, many lesser known but equally beautiful plazas, a bullfight, Puerta del Sol, a flamenco concert and of course El Rastro.  There is simply too much to do in Madrid, no matter how much time you have there.    

Music at El Rastro, this guy could play anything!

El Rastro, Europe's largest flea market, is the cultural flesh and blood of Madrid.  It is enormous, packed, and brimming with Madrilenos hungry for a bargain.  We got a hot dog, meandered our way through, and found an unexpected gem of a deli.  We were on our way home, when we stumbled upon 40-50 Spaniards standing on the sidewalk all gobbling up open faced sandwiches.  

Spanish, through and through

Then we saw the line, and knew we had to purchase our own devourables.  Inside, there were no tables, benches or even a bar.  Just a room jam packed with folks waiting for deliciousness.  We got one with elvers and another with tortilla (delicious Spanish egg omelette), both drizzled with olive oil on freshly baked bread ....and joined the standing fans outside on the sidwalk.  

A classic plaza, this happens to be Plaza Mayor

And finally, we’ve experienced sales before, but nothing quite like the “rebajas” that strike most Spanish cities in late summer.  After stocking up on crafts in Morocco, and depleting our finances over four months of traveling, it was hard to pass up the deals displayed in nearly every shop window.  But we managed.

Oh, if you ever want to hear a truly shocking and unpostable story, ask us later about the man in tight linen pants.  We've warned you.  

Holy Toledo

Toledo is one of the tourist capitals of Spain, and with good reason.  It’s jam-packed with churches, museums, and other cultural attractions.  But it’s also a small city, so it seems to bust at the seams even more than some of the other high volume tourist areas we had been.  The most noticeable difference was the insanity of the tour bus.  They packed the narrow streets, miraculously making the tight corners, loading and unloading herds of camera laden tourists.  Toledo is supposed to return to normalcy at night, once the buses have left but we took a day-trip from Madrid so cannot verify whether this is indeed true.

Only special people allowed!

The city is perched up atop a bluff, surrounded on three sides by the Rio Tajo, and dominated by the imposing Alcazar.  Riding a local bus up to the city, passing through the old city walls made us feel like we were traveling back in time.  The streets in general wind up, down, and around, so navigating is not easy, and can be quite tiring.  In addition, it’s all so tightly packed together that it was hard to appreciate the grandness of the Alcazar.  The funny thing, we discovered, is that the Alcazar holds the public library.  So much to the dismay of the security man who said “This is the library….” (i.e. what are you doing here?), we headed up to the café on the top floor, munched on chocolate con churros and appreciated the incredible view.

Birders pay close attention

With only a day to explore the city, we were torn between wanting to see a lot of it, and thoroughly enjoying the places we did have time to visit.  It was one of the most intense sight-seeing days of our trip, with stops at the Plaza de Zocodover, Iglesia de Santo Tome, San Juan de los Reyes and Sinagoga de Santa Maria La Blanca.  Although we don’t tend to run from one tourist spot to the next, we loved nearly every spot we ended up in Toledo.  It was a bit baffling.  We ended up doing our own things for part of the day, as Matt wanted to go-go-go, and Amber was pooped.  Ironically, we bumped into each other at the old Jewish synagogue.  But Matt rushed off to see the spectacular cathedral and Amber found a quiet plaza to enjoy a siesta.

To scare the boogeyman away

Toledo also hosted a plethora of silver filigree (swords in particular), damascene, pottery and marzipan (you name it, they make it out of or with this unique almond paste).  We tasted a bit of the local fare, but mostly soaked up as much of Toledo as we could in its rich history and incredible sights.  

Handsome gentlemen.  I need a sword!

Cordoba!

Cordoba, a city famous for the Mezquita, a rich history, and patios. And, internet that is ridiculously difficult to find. Unfortunately, that lack of internet access coincided with a job hunt and a house hunt. We spent too many hours tracking down leads, working around ridiculous siestas and general hours of operation.

Not sure if we've mentioned this before, but Spanish establishments have this terrible habit of posting their hours in places that you can only see when they're open. Most businesses have metal garage door-like gates (to prevent vandalism?), which they shut when they are closed. About 95% of them post their hours inside those doors. Bad news for any kind of planning.

Flamenco dress shop in the winding streets of Cordoba.


Cordoba was much cooler, temperature-wise, than Sevilla, and though still quite hot, was a welcome break from the oven-like conditions we'd been experiencing. Delicious gazpacho took the edge off the remaining heat.

A typical Spanish deli counter - or about a quarter of it.


Cordoba combines a very curious past, not only in history books but in every nook and cranny of the city. It's been a major city for the Roman, Visigoths, Muslims, and now the Catholic Spaniards. It reached its height as the capital of Al-Andalus, the indpendent Muslim kingdom that ruled much of the Iberian Peninsula from 756 until 1492. In the 10th century, Cordoba was the biggest and one of the wealthiest cities in Western Europe. The most obvious remnant of this past is in the rambling layout and the architecture of the city - details much more apparent to us after our time in Morocco.

The old minaret, now a church clock tower.


The Mezquita lived up to its billing as one of the most impressive sites in all of Spain. It's a massive mosque, built during the 8th, 9th, and 10th centuries. Its main hall has some 850 columns, topped by red-and-white striped arches, stretching off into the distance. Many of the columns came from other buildings, including a few from ancient Carthage. There are marvelous decorative touches everywhere. The most remarkable are the stunning mosaics around the original shrine - they're said to contain 1600 kg of gold tiles.

The maze of arches in the fabulous Mezquita.


Strolling through the archways, we couldn't help but be struck by the odd contrasts. Built as a mosque, the Mezquita has since been converted into a Catholic cathedral. Much of the information scattered about the place is filled with spin about how bad the Muslims were, and how they stole the church from the previous Christian inhabitants (history indicates that's probably not true). In addition to the massive church built right in the middle of the prayer hall, the chapels, Christian tombs, and statues seem incongruous. We'd prefer if they'd just kept it the way it was.

The mihrab, or shrine, surrounded with golden mosaics.


Many of the city's buildings have beautiful, open plant-filled patios in the middle - a unique and comforting architectural style. We were out of season for the festival, when many of the most renowned patios are open to the public, but the peeks we got through open doors made us wish we could explore them.

Like a kid in a candy store!

El Rocio

So, you've probably never heard of El Rocio. That's because no one goes there. The irony is that they should.

The hot spot in town (Ermita del Rocio)

El Rocio has a booming population of 1200, and borders Donaña National Park - one of the most famous parks in Europe. The park was directly behind our hotel. So Matt had a 2 minute walk to some of the best birding in Spain. Massive flocks of flamingos, spoonbills and various shorebirds nibbled in the mud. It was gorgeous, even for the non-birder of the twosome.

Sigh...

Our arrival proved to be grueling. The bus dropped us off at an unmarked bus stop in front of a local restaurant. No tourist office. No map. Sand streets. And one very heavy roller bag. Sidenote to future travelers, roller bags are a beautiful thing unless they are aren't. And when they aren't, they suck.

Watering the sand

Needless to say, we bulldozed our way through the sandy streets to our hotel. They say that in El Rocio hoof prints outnumber tire marks. So true.

The local parking lot

Although El Rocio is small, it is inundated with approximately one million visitors who come to see a small Virgin Mary (Virgen del Rocio) statue during Pentecost in the local church. No motorized vehicles allowed! The pilgrimage to El Rocio (Romeria del Rocio) includes many from larger Andalucian cities as well as many from the brotherhoods of El Rocio.

Tribute to the virgin, much soot included

These are essentially fraternities for grown-ups - brotherhood houses included. They arrive, they drink, they celebrate, and they all try to 'steal the virgin' from each other. And when the festival is over, they return the virgin to the church, and head home leaving El Rocio in peace for another year.

We loved it here. We'll be back for sure.