Spain
SPAIN, European Union
JULIO
Spain conjures up so much for me being the origins of most of my family members (98%). I traveled there with our family several times as a young man. I have fond memories of being released to the outdoors with wild local friends in Piedras Negras in O Grove, Galicia and returning at dark from a magical day of building forts, exploring and playing at the beach. Perhaps the last time I felt truly free, like a child and in a strange new land.
My father passed almost eight years ago after a long battle with leukemia. He was so many things to me. The god of my world as a young man, teacher, judge, travel companion, provider, adversary, destroyer, blueprint for a man and finally in the twilight of his life, a good friend. He took me on my first trips outside the country to the reaches of Asia, and as Christina and I traveled, I came to realize that traveling itself was connected to him for me and would bring me closer to him.
My father, Julio Iglesias Andújar
As we prepared to enter Spain, the place of his birth, I could feel the energy of all this mounting. I speak Spanish fluently, it was my first language but I was severely doubting my abilities as I was about to become responsible for all of our communication as Christina had in Greece. Judging from her anxiety and the speed at which most Spaniards communicate this was not going to be easy. Thank god, I passed with no problem and got to strengthen my skills.
What sticks with me after the fact, is the tremendous is the diversity from region to region. All provinces have a unique local culture, cuisine, dialect, landscape and people to boot. I thought I would only fall in love with parts I already knew, had genealogy from, or what resembled the technicolor Spain from books and movies that I had come to love. The truth is that I loved it all and it was so much more diverse and varied than I had ever imagined .
The powerful Basque region was one our favorites. The proud people, food and culture, which truly is its own ancient and separate region, was unforgettable and simply marvelous. We were simply in heaven at the pintxo bars of Donostia, the beach at La Concha and the eateries in Bilbao, it was simply other worldly how lovely it was. We drove from Bilbao to Santiago de Compostela traversing the coastal Costa Verde, dotted with Cantabrian sea ports and Asturian fishing villages and stopped to revel in the Picos de Europa along the way. The scenes were spectacular as we approached Galicia and every bite of fabada, every glass of wine, each stoic old man's face took me closer inside and eventually into the arms of my departed father and it was heavenly.
christina
I had a dream before we left on our trip about a very good looking Spanish man who was standing in a beautiful colorful field of flowers; he told me that "our roots run like wildflowers." It was arresting and woke me up - I wrote it down having never been to Spain but knowing that we were eventually going. What could this possibly mean? This is the image I had in my head as we entered into Spain - diversity, beauty, enchanting environments and passion - for the dream definitely delivered that and so would the trip here hopefully. I'm so looking forward to learning more about Julio's lineage and his family and culture, especially as it relates to untangling our past so that we can create a new way of being for both of us, together.