After a memorable night of sober car sleeping, we drove to the nearest petrol station, where we ordered some coffee and donuts for kids. Nobody understood English. Uh-oh, I think we are in trouble.
I felt like a moron, standing in front that Spanish temperament that shined from dark woman’s eyes. She didn’t care a bit if I don’t understand her. She continued to talk with continuous Spanish wave of words. When she finished, she looked at me, and I was there like a deaf-mute, not able to respond. At that moment, I had the pleasure to experience toddlers world once more: I was communicating with pointing a finger and strange throaty sound.
Later on, I realized that not knowing Spanish it’s not an obstacle only when ordering coffee, but even more in trying to find a flat. And with a flat, I don’t talk about fancy villas for rich tourist. I want a simple flat. You know, with broken flushing system and leaking roof — that kind of a thing. Not because I have some weird wishes, but because of a tight budget.
So, after the morning coffee, which was deliciously hot, we started our road trip around the island. I still pictured myself like: ‘I came, I saw, I conquered.’ I’ll see the right place, and we’ll find an apartment there. No problem, right. Well… There are touristic apartments everywhere. And where there are not, we only heard: “No hablo ingles!” or “I don’t know.”
We manage to get from El Medano through Santa Cruz, to Puerto de la Cruz and all the way the winding road to Los Gigantes. There we finally throw ourselves into the sea. Kids were already fed up with my ‘just a bit longer’ while looking for a great place (to live, to swim, etc.) After talking to barman’s and boat offerers, after a phone call with some English speaking landlord, all without a positive outcome, I realized I wouldn’t find a great place. I won’t find it because I didn’t know what I am looking for. I needed to say: “This place right here is great because I decided it is!”
I needed to change my perspective. I needed to stop and appreciate the given. I had to stop searching and start doing. So we jumped into a natural pool in Puerto de Santiago, and it felt — yes, you guessed it: GREAT! When we dried up and put food in our bellies, we changed our tactics. I agreed to use Airbnb. There we found an astonishing apartment: cozy, clean, big, beautiful. I was exceedingly happy standing inside of it. I even forgot the price I otherwise wouldn’t accept. We’ll manage. We always do.
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We are working on our website, which still isn’t on. Leo (he’s coding it) can get a bit of a perfectionist. He wants it to be functional, quick and excellent, and he can get lost in the details. Like he is not nervous enough, I dare to comment what he wrote about us for an intro. It was a word ‘crazy’ mentioned in a context: how crazy we are for selling everything we had and wandered into the world. I kindly exposed, that I don’t understand why travelers like to think about themselves as crazy. They like to brag how insane they are. I get it: we all want to be special, adventurous and cool. But I still think traveling is one of the sanest things one can do.
In January we went to visit our family in Slovenia. We didn’t see any positive consequences of our visit. We were exhausted, and it was hard to get back into our daily routine. The most significant problem occurred when it was time to get back to school. Lejla skipped two weeks of school, and she had a lot of catching up to do - tons of homework. But the most heartbreaking issue we had with Erik. He just didn’t want to go back to school.
I have been working for myself, or if I am honest, I never had a job for which you have to be all dressed up and shiny. So I never had a real reason to wear clothes or shirts. But I do. Do you want to know why? Because of brains and the way they work.
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