Our plan was simple: Go to Spain, see the sights, enjoy the food, and make new memories traveling as a family of three.
Our challenge: Stay on budget, bring only what we could fit in backpacks, and oh…bring our eleven-month-old son. No problem!
We had our tickets, a skeletal itinerary, and full backpacks. We would fly round-trip to Madrid and spend most of our time seeing the region of Andalusia. We were concerned about the long-haul flights with Johann, but got off to a great start when the airline staff let us carry our packs on board without needing to check anything in. Johann was our golden ticket!
Johann didn’t have his own seat, so he sat in our laps on all flights. Fortunately, he cooperated. I nursed him during take-off and landing, so his ears didn’t hurt. On one segment, the flight attendants set up the baby bassinet, but he refused to sleep in it. He screamed for the first few minutes, then discovered what great fun it was to climb out of it. So we gave up on that pretty quickly. But he slept like a champ in the Ergo for most of the journey, which let us sleep and watch a couple of movies too, and he was pretty happy while awake. Even being changed in the tiniest of airplane bathrooms didn’t bother him too much. When looking out of the window or flipping through the in-flight magazines got boring, we distracted him with the kids games on the seat monitors. He didn’t know he was supposed to line up all the colors and shapes, but he was mesmerized by the bright stuff on screen. We couldn’t have picked a more perfect occasion for his first “screen time.” And, I couldn’t have been more grateful for my travel partner, Ryan, who was champion baby-wrangler. My heart goes out to single parents on these long international flights going solo with their little ones.
MADRID
It was a sunny afternoon when we landed in the capital city, Madrid, the next day. We stopped briefly at the Turismo (tourist information office) in the airport for a city map, then took the subway to our hostel. We quickly settled into our small but clean room and even though we were tired and wrestling the 9-hour time difference, we wasted no time in executing our plan.
Phase I: Keep everyone awake until bedtime, local time. We had read some tips on nipping jetlag in the bud for young kids, and this was at the top of the list. Johann surprised us yet again, by staying awake until 9pm. Children are surprisingly resilient, aren’t they? It makes me wonder how many of the things we don’t do are really because we project our own adult fears on the situations, versus our kids being unable to handle them. Ryan and I were mentally prepared for Johann to have some jet lag, but we were very happy that he was flexible, and adjusted right away.
Phase II: Start seeing Spain! As soon as we got settled into our hostel, we ventured out to explore the neighborhood and find dinner. We found a bar nearby and enjoyed our first taste of authentic Spanish Tapas and cervezas outside in the warm evening air. That night we tried out the Scrubba with all our travel clothes, and tucked Johann into the crib that the hostel had provided for him. [Side note: My friend Jamie had given me a tip to try. Since the crib was right next to the bed, we draped a blanket over the mesh side that faced us, which allowed the baby to sleep without seeing us and getting distracted, so we could have a light on and stay up later if we wanted to. This has worked well for us ever since.] Ryan and I spent a few minutes making the next day’s plans, map in hand, then promptly crashed.
The next morning, with no jet lag in sight and fully rested, we were ready to explore Madrid. We planned to be out through the afternoon, so we stocked the diaper bag with diapers and wipes, Johann’s spare outfit, sippy cup, a food pouch just in case we needed it, some cheerios, and our water bottle. We started our morning with deliciously strong café con leches (for the adults only!) and all split a breakfast sandwich.
Johann was wide awake and charmed the locals as they stared at his unusual mode of transport: The Ergo carrier! Baby-wearing seems rare in Spain, but there are strollers everywhere. We saw only one other baby-wearing family on our whole trip, and they may have been tourists. For us, there was no better option as we walked through crowded cobblestone streets and plazas, up and down stairs, seeing the sights of old Madrid.
We soaked up the history and culture of Puerta del Sol, the Plaza de Espana, Palacio Real de Madrid, Plaza de Oriente, and the Catedral de la Almudena.
When “siesta” time rolled around, we found ourselves at Plaza Mayor, and the city had gotten quiet. We did our part by sinking into a patio table with a pitcher of cold refreshing sangria and enjoyed the downtime ourselves. Only, Johann wasn’t tired. He’d taken a morning nap in the Ergo, so we let it go and simply enjoyed the sunny pleasant weather and all the happenings of Plaza Mayor while Johann cruised around our legs and played peekaboo under the table. That evening Johann was happy to stay up with us yet again, but crashed hard at 10pm when we got back for the night. It was a wonderful day.
Day two was all about parks and museums. But first, breakfast. For weeks, I had been waiting to have Chocolate con Churros, a typical Spanish breakfast. Neither Ryan nor I had tried churros before (not even the tex-mex variety), so when we tasted our first bite we could hear the angels sing. Johann tried his best to steal a bite, but his breakfast was a healthy food pouch.
We walked down some charming streets in old Madrid, seeing a few more plazas and churches before heading over to the Parque del Retiro. This 500+ year old park stretched for 350 acres in the heart of Madrid. We enjoyed the picnic lunch we had packed, and explored the park from head to toe. It was a great place to let Johann stop to smell the roses, so to speak.
We planned to see the Museo del Prado during the “free entry” time at 6 pm, to save ourselves the €28 that we would have paid otherwise. [Side note: Madrid has many such freebies that are worth looking into, if you’re interested in museums and saving money on sightseeing.] We waited for an hour in a line that snaked through the grounds to eventually get in and see priceless works of art by the likes of El Greco, Velazquez, Peter Paul Rubens, and Raphael, among others. Masterpieces I had only read about were now hanging inches from my face. No big deal! I couldn’t believe we were doing this for free. I was having a blast, even when Johann spent the last twenty minutes of our visit squirming and fussing. He was done riding around for the day and ready to burn off some energy himself. The museum was noisy, as apparently all of Madrid was there during the “free time,” so we didn’t feel too bad about it. Tourists are far louder, and oblivious anyway! We left feeling newly cultured, and found dinner at a taberna. It was the best meal we had in Madrid. Small plates of perfectly charred Padrón Peppers with just a hint of olive oil and sea salt, and the best Manchego I’ve ever tasted in my life.
Back at the hostel, it was now Johann-time. We wound down with games of peekaboo, reading (from our own books which were not meant for babies since we hadn’t brought any of his books, but he didn’t know any better – oops! – and at least we were still reading to him), and quiet bedtime songs.
The next day we had a noon train to catch to Seville. So we spent the morning walking around Madrid one last time and split a small plate of delicious Tortilla Española (a Spanish omelette made with eggs and potatoes, another traditional breakfast I had been waiting to try). We picked up some sandwiches and fruit for lunch on the train ride, then packed up and checked out of the hostel, and went to the train station. True to form, Johann had no problem with the two hour forty minute train journey to Seville. So far, he had loved the subways and got especially excited during our Metro rides all over Madrid. He either napped or happily looked out the window.
SEVILLE
Once the capital of Spain, Seville is an old, beautiful, sun-drenched city with a lot of treasures. We would also explore other parts of Andalusia from here. We wanted to make the most of our five nights here, and had built in some downtime as well.
We arrived at the train station and made straight for the attached Turismo, only to find out that they were inexplicably closed. We had no city map or any knowledge of bus routes. So far, the trip had gone smoothly, so I went into a mild shock. Then, I got nervous. [Side note: You’re probably wondering “why don’t they just use the maps on their smartphones?” Answer: Because we don’t have smartphones, that’s why! Yep, we’re frugal and slightly in the dark ages, by choice, for the sake of keeping our lives simple. Besides, we actually enjoy being “unplugged” during vacations.] We could have called the hotel from a payphone and I’m sure they would have been able to direct us. But where’s the fun in that?
We knew we had to take a bus, as more expensive cab fare was not in the budget. We just had to figure it out and find our way to the hotel, so we formed a plan. We went out to the nearest bus stop and stared at the map on the wall. The hotel was near the Cathedral, so that’s where we needed to go. In fact, its location and walkability to everything we wanted to see in Seville was why we picked this hotel. And then, Ryan saved the hour. My dear husband has the best sense of direction of anyone I’ve ever met. I don’t know how, but in the next two minutes he had determined which bus we needed to take to get close to the Cathedral. I couldn’t complain or disagree, since the most I did was stare blankly at the map and think how the little circles representing bus routes looked like Froot Loops. Our bus arrived. We got on and collapsed into the only two available seats, feeling exhausted from the weight of everything…our packs, the baby, the uncertainty in an unfamiliar city. I was carrying Johann on my chest through all this and he was fast asleep in the 80 F late afternoon heat, completely oblivious to the fact that his parents were only mildly not-lost. The bus was crowded and as the stops whizzed by we basically stared out the window, looking for any signs that we were heading in the right direction, when we noticed that the people sitting in front of us were speaking English. With American accents no less. Undoubtedly by Divine Appointment, one of them was giving detailed information about the city to an older couple. She was speaking with authority and confidence. We were about to ask a local on the bus for help, but this was so much better! I seized the God-given opportunity, politely nosed my way in, and asked the nice lady if she would point us in the right direction. She confirmed that we were going the right way, and also that they were all getting off at the next stop and that we should too. Okay! (This gave Ryan a much-needed ego boost, his sense of direction was still spot on.) The nice lady turned out to be an American expat, teaching and managing a study abroad program at the local University, and she had been living in Seville for 30 years. We followed her and her brood of students and parents off the bus. The kind professor pointed down the street, and said we needed to walk that way.
It was just a short walk, she said.
We walked for half a mile, which seemed to me more like five as I was now bone-tired from carrying almost forty pounds between Johann and my pack. But we were clearly close to the Cathedral now, evident by the procession of tourists in front of us. Suddenly, surely by Divine Arrangement again, a Turismo appeared on our right. The helpful people inside handed us a beautiful city map, with an X where our hotel should be. Ahhh!
It was only another half-mile, they said.
At this point, I should lay forth a couple of facts. 1) The old city of Seville, especially the barrio Santa Cruz (the neighborhood we were in), is a maze of tiny streets, many of which were not marked and not on the map. It was easy to see why the buses could only get so close to this area. 2) The difference between a “street” and an “alley” was only distinguishable by intent. E.g. if we saw a cab nose its way down an alley, with nary an inch between the cab and the buildings on either side, that didn’t necessarily make it a street. So after half an hour of wandering in a quarter-mile radius from where we thought our hotel should be, we still hadn’t found it. We retraced our steps. Then, by some miracle, we finally saw our street and then our hotel! Forty-five minutes later we had checked in, gotten changed, and back out again feeling refreshed, relieved, enjoying the sense of accomplishment, and thoroughly famished. We were in the liveliest part of Seville, and had no trouble finding a bar. We sat down at an outdoor table with two giant cervezas, and let the evening breeze wash the stress of the day away from us.
We shared a plate of Chorizo Ibérico, which was smoky, slightly spicy and incredible, and took in the view of the Cathedral and Girlada towering right in front of us and the beautiful sunset behind it.
We had overcome our first major challenge of the trip. We had kept the peace between us. We had walked over ten miles in the past twelve hours. And we were now completely relaxed, reaping the rewards of a long arduous day. Traveling like this is not all rainbows and unicorns, and there is a lot more pressure with a baby in tow. But, it was worth every moment. We were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We were having an epic trip.
