Hemingway Days and The Most Brutal 5K EVER...

Jason and I had the chance to visit Key West this past weekend. Believe it or not, after slightly over 4 years living in South Florida, we have yet to visit Key West...this was our first excursion.

We went to take part in "Hemingway Days", a 5-day celebration/festival that includes contests and festivals, a HUGE 3-day marlin fishing tournament, and a 5K race around the island.

We stayed in the Douglas House, an absolutely CHARMING boutique inn right on the corner of Duval and Amelia streets. We arrived LATE Friday night, and woke up at the crack of dawn to begin exploring Key West. Our first stop was the obligatory photo op of Southernmost Point. Here we were able to not only get our picture, but see several Key West staples...rampant chickens, guys in drag, and elderly Cubans screaming: "Asesino!!" across the water towards Fidel.

It was only 9am, and already sweltering. As I locked my bike, sweat literally dropped from my face in pools...my make-up had already worn off, and my shirt was plastered to my back. I was already nervous about the upcoming 5K race I would be running in 10-and-a-half hours...

Next stop was the Ernest Hemingway House. This was AMAZING...I learned so many colorful and unique stories about this prolific American author, who actually completed most of his works here in Key West. I would love to share all these amazing stories with you...but the post would be immense.

One of the things Hemingway was famous for was his cats. He had received a polydactyl cat as a gift from a captain of a wrecker. Hemingway believed these cats, who are exceptional mousers, thanks to their additional toes, were good luck. He collected and bred them. They are featured in MANY pieces of artwork around the house...including an original sculpture given to Hemingway by his good friend, Pablo Picasso, who knew of his love for these cats.

(That sculpture has it's own very real, and immensely tragic, story.)

Today, more than 44 cats live at Hemingway House, and they are known the world over as "Hemingways".

Most of the 44 are polydactyls...just like our beloved cat Jay...who somewhere down his feline family tree is related to the famous first cats of Hemingway.

After the museum, we rode our bikes down Duval Street to Hemingways favorite watering hole, Sloppy Joes...where we had conch fritters, Sloppy Joes, and several gallons of water while waiting for the "Papa Hemingway Look-a-Like" contest and the "Running of the Bulls" race/event that took place just outside the bar.

I even managed to get a picture astride one of the hobby-horse "bulls" with two "Papa Hemingway" contestants.

By now it was mid-afternoon, and the heat was really taking it's toll. Both Jason and I were literally soaked to the skin and feeling the drain of heat and humidity...so we rode back to the Douglas House and changed into our swimsuits and cooled off in the pool. We also stepped around the corner to share a piece of Key Lime pie...figuring it would be indecent to visit Key West without sampling that particular treat.

We tried to keep cool and rest the remainder of the afternoon, venturing out only to get our race packets and a light bite of soup and salad. At 7pm, we headed back down to Southernmost Point for the 5K.

It was still sweltering.

There wasn't a large group of racers, and looking around, it was obvious that most of them were seasoned runners. I guess you'd have to be pretty dedicated to drive all the way down to Key West to run a 5K in 93 degree weather with a 66% humidity.

I knew within the first half-mile I was in trouble. Earlier in the week, Jason and I had run a "mock" 5K...running casually and not racing, per se...but timing ourselves all the same. On that day, I ran a 10:14 mile...my best time yet...and I wasn't even working that hard. t was an almost 2 minute improvement over my last race pace taken on July 4th when I ran the Westin 5K. I was confidant about my abilities.

Alas...although we ran through beautiful, shaded, and historically interesting neighborhoods, I had little strength to look around and enjoy my surroundings. I felt sapped and energy drained. As it ended, I ran a an 11:14 minute mile, making my time 34:50.5...an improvement from my last time by about 45 seconds. Although an improvement is, I feel, miraculous...it might be more telling to share my place stats. I'm used to being in the "middle" of the competitors and age group racers...neither being the worst, or the best, runner.

But in this race, which had the smallest amount of participants of any race I have yet run, I came in at 302 out of 401, and 24th out of 30 racers in my age group. Ouch...

Nevertheless...I DID improve my time, and in conditions that I felt were extremely unfriendly...so I'm going to call it a win.

After the race...we didn't hang around...and headed straight for the blessed air conditioning and an ICE COLD shower. After the shower, we had tickets to go on a haunted ghost tour of Key West, supposedly the fourth most haunted city in the United States. The tour included a visit to the museum that holds Key Wests' most creepy resident...Robert the Doll.

A doll supposedly imbued with dark voodoo magic that has wrecked havoc in the lives of all who possess him. I was the only one brave enough to "ask" the dolls permission to take photos. While I spoke with him, the girl next to me, who was holding an EMF reader, let out a gasp...her reader was fluctuating all over the place.

When I had finished photographing Robert, it calmed down again. This made the other people on the tour EXTREMELY spooked, although Jason and I took it as "all good fun". I am, as far as I know, the only person to get photos of Robert that night from our group...so I guess it's pretty interesting.

We walked home from the tour, drinking in the insane night life that infects Duval street as the hours tick closer to midnight. Too tired to hang out and party, we went straight back to the Douglas House and gratefully climbed into bed. We had to get up VERY early the next morning so we could drive home and Jason could go back to work.

We had a lovely time on our mini-vacation...and hope to return to Key West again someday, hopefully with the kids.

The Fourth of July

We had a VERY busy Fourth of July this year...so busy, that it was rather difficult for me to take pictures...I was too busy going from here to there, frantically cleaning, cooking, or administering first aid, and really just enjoying spending the day with my family and friends.

Jason and I started the day by running a 5K race in Weston. It was a lot of fun...I improved my time by two whole minutes, and Jason SMOKED it...coming in just UNDER 30 minutes, with a 9-and-a-half-minute pace time. I'm pretty jealous.

Then it was home for quick showers and over to the chapel for the annual Pembroke Pines Ward Waffle Stomp...the Fourth of July breakfast, Pine Wood Derby Race, and Volleyball Game.

Since none of our Derby cars placed, and we were expecting company for barbecue, we skipped the game part and headed home to spruce up for the evenings festivities. We had several families come over to join us for barbecue, and spent the evening chilling and talking, with several small fireworks shows to keep the kids interested until the BIG show after dark.

After fireworks, we all sang Happy Birthday to Jason (he swears it was his best Birthday Song ever with the off-key screeching of no less than 15 children...not all of whom are pictured above...and 7 adults) and enjoyed Coconut Cake.

It was a great way to celebrate our countries birthday...we LOVE July Fourth!!!

The Trip of a Lifetime...The Couple from La Mancha

This guy is my hero.

From his grizzled appearance, to his misplaced sense of chivalry, to his stubborn Rozinante, and his choice of simple yet poetic companions...

...to me, he symbolizes all the hope of a better world than the one we live in.

For this reason, when given the chance to spend the day in Toledo, in the heart of La Mancha...I, of course, jumped at the opportunity.

Well...that's not the ONLY reason...

Toledo is a stunning medieval city perched on top of a hill and surrounded on three sides by a river. The entire city is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

It was here on this hill before Spain was Spain...and was actually the capitol of Spain for centuries before a King moved the capitol to Madrid. It is still the religious heart of the country.

Unlike the grid-planned cities inspired by the Romans, Toledo was primarily planned by the Moors, who believed that a city with extremely narrow, twisting streets would be more defensible...

...after all, who wants to bring an army into a city with streets no more than 3 men wide, that twist and turn like a great cobblestone serpent, with no apparent rhyme or reason?

Add a HUGE stone wall several feet thick with turrets and towers, and the natural moat created by the river, and your have a highly protected city that has never been taken by force...only by siege.

Toledo's twisting, hilly topography makes you feel as if you are always walking uphill, and the high walls of ancient buildings make it impossible to see distant landmarks that might help you orientate yourself. For this reason, the guide was adamant about is sticking together...because getting lost in Toledo is VERY easy to do.

However, that's EXACTLY what Jason and I wanted to do...get lost.

We wanted to spend the day zigzagging and meandering, stumbling upon hidden treasures and secrets, and unveiling the arts and craftmanship that Toledo is famous for...pottery, damascene jewelry, mazapan, and most famously...Spanish steel.

But as we wandered the alleys and streets with our guide, we saw what she meant...we would be walking down one treacherously steep cobblestone path, and suddenly, she'd open a great wooden door in a wall, we'd walk through and be on a different street altogether , going in an entirely different direction.

Instead of making us feel paranoid about getting turned around, it made Jason and I all the more keen to peel away from the group.

One of the first places we visited was the Cathedral of Toledo. After all the cathedrals and churches and museums we had toured and admired in both Barcelona and Madrid...there was none to compare with this Cathedral. It took 250 years to build, from about 1226 to 1493, making it one of the oldest buildings we saw.

It was the most ornate as well...the high Gothic architecture, the lofty interior...every surface seemed to be made of rich walnut, gleaming alabaster, and gilded in gold.

And then...there was the Sacristy.

The Sacristy is a private room where the bishops and cardinals would get dressed, and has only recently been opened to the public. Crammed inside this tiny space were more famous paintings by famous artists than I saw in any museum...including the Prado. Every inch of every wall, floor to ceiling, was covered.

This small room housed El Grecos "El Expolio", and masterpieces by Goya, Titian, Mengs, van Dyke, Velazquez, Ribera, Caravaggio, and Bellini. I stood for many precious moments...struck dumb by a small painting by Raphael...hung at chest level and squeezed between larger, more ornate pieces, seemingly added there as an afterthought...as if they had no place else to display it. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen...

If there was one room I could have died happy in...I can safely say that it is there. When I'm old and gray, wheel me back to Toledo and stretch me out in the Sacristy...rotate me every few hours so I can see and ponder it all...and let me slip into oblivion among masters...

After I was forcefully removed from this room, we continued on our journey to see many more churches, buildings, and beautiful sites in Toledo...but as we traveled, we started to get antsy. We were running out of time and had some very specific things to see...and so, when our little group stopped for a break (some of our entourage were not accustomed to the cardiovascular intensity the terrain in Toledo was providing), we peeled off to look for the main two things we knew we HAD to buy in Toledo...swords and mazapan.

Being famous for the production of Spanish steel, sword and weaponry shops abounded in Toledo...but we had heard that the BEST mazapan came from Santo Tome. We had seen Santo Tome when we entered the city...but now didn't know where we were in relation to that point. So we opted to start with the steel...

...besides, the mazapan was MY thing...Jason came to Toledo with the express purpose of buying a sword...and since this was his trip...it was really important to me that he get what he wanted most...

So, we teamed up with another couple, and backtracked through the twisting alleys, up a great hill, through a door in the wall, around a building or two, back down a few steps, until we re-located a shop that had caught our eye. Inside, Jason haggled and negotiated, and purchased a large two handed sword patterned after the Knights Templar and made right there in Toledo. It had to be shipped home (no WAY we were getting that sucker on a plane...can you imagine explaining it at customs?).

Once done, we had to race back to find the group. We passed several convents, all with hand-written signs that said "Vente Dulces". I thought if I couldn't buy Santo Tomes mazapan, I should buy it from the nuns of Toledo...but we could not stop, we were out of time...and soldiered on to catch up with the group.

After several more stops, we came to our lunch destination on the outer wall of Toledo, outside the cities gate. We knew that after lunch, we would be heading home, and I was disappointed about not getting the mazapan.

Jason, ever my hero, seemed to know about where we were, and was confidant he could get us back to the square where we saw the shop. So, we asked our friends to hold a spot at the table for our lunches, and went to our guide to explain what we wanted to do.

She was not encouraging.

"You cannot do this, " she said with a rich accent. "It is straight uphill...you need to catch a taxi. You will never make it in time."

She tried pleading, chastising, and even had the manager of the house offer to order it for us and have it delivered. But Jason was adamant...No, we wanted to go ourselves.

With a dramatic sigh of resignation, she warned us if we missed the bus, it would be a VERY expensive cab ride back to Madrid...and with that, we took off.

 We raced around the corner, and sure enough, found the city gate. We had driven through it upon arrival in the bus...and it was at least a mile and a half to the top, and almost STRAIGHT uphill.

Jason looked at me and said: "Ya know...I know why she didn't want us to go. A lot of people in our party were struggling with the tour around the city. I'm sure she sees that a lot...out-of-shape Americans who don't want to exercise."

"But we're not like that, are we?" I said.

Jason smiled. "Nope..." he said. Then he hunched down in a half crouch and said: "Are you ready?"

I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and mirrored his crouch.

"Let's Go!!" he said...

...and we ran.

The cobblestones gave us a little lip to push off from as we climbed up the hills, like miniature steps on a giant Stairmaster. The residents of Toledo who were carefully picking their way up or down the hill looked at us with amazement and a fair amount of amusement...crazy Americans!!

But we high-stepped it up that hill in less than 10 minutes, hot and sweaty at the top, and jubilant in our conquest of Toledos formidable terrain. I found Santo Tome, purchased an insane amount of mazapan, and we reverse raced back down the hill, arriving back at the restaurant, sweaty and flushed, just as our companions were being served their salads.

After lunch (which was one of the best meals we had...large and simple and delicious), we saw our guide again. She saw my bulging bag from Santo Tome and said: "Oh!! You made it!!"

Hopefully she'll never underestimate Americans again.

And was the mazapan worth it?

...ohhhh yeeaaahhhh...

Toledo was our FAVORITE part of the trip...the most beautiful, romantic, inspiring place we had been. In my mind, it was everything that symbolized Spain...

And I even got to rendezvous with my hero...

...how could it possibly be any better than that?

POST NOTE: About 2 weeks after arriving home, Jason received a very large rectangular package in the mail.

 Mission Accomplished...

The Trip of a Lifetime...Flamenco, Bullfights, and Tres Pelirojas Locas (Oh, My!!)

 There's still just so much to share about Spain...but I really do need to wrap this up, because me life is speeding by and I have more to post about family and if I don't do it soon...I'm going to be playing catch-up foooreevver (name that movie).

 I wanted to tell you about an amazing flamenco show we saw at El Corral de la Moreria, currently the best Tablao Flamenco in the world. Flamenco is a beautiful, haunting, passionate, and often misunderstood (by gringos) style of dance. It's gypsy in origins, and therefore has a strong Middle Eastern feel to the singing (think of the sound of Muslims being called to prayer). It's about the hard life of gypsies...nomadic, often despised, hard, with the pain of love and the ache of loss. The dancers rarely smile...in fact, they often look to be in pain...and I guess in a way...they are.

The crowd was rowdy and drunk...and it took awhile for them to get into the feel of it...to really appreciate it as a beautiful art form. Jason and I knew what it was about, and both of us were getting rather fed up...but then the old man playing guitar stopped in the middle of his solo and waited until he had the crowds attention...demanding, with out any words, their respect.

It worked.

And from that point on, we had a very engaged and appreciative audience...which made our experience a million times more enjoyable.

I was also thrilled to wear this pretty "Spanish" dress I borrowed from a friend to wear at the event...I felt like I fit right in!!

The next night...we went to a bullfight in Madrid. We actually visited Madrid in the middle of the Festival of San Isidor, who is the patron saint of Madrid. San Isidor was a poor farmer, but he and his wife always managed to feed the less fortunate, even if it meant that they went hungry. He was also kind to animals. It is said that his master often saw him plowing in the fields, with an angel plowing on either side of him, showing that his work was equal to that of three men. His generosity, empathy, and strong work ethic gained him the respect of all his neighbors and community.

Today, he is celebrated by a 3-week festival that hosts bull fights every night of the week (which I think is rather ironic, considering his is the saint of farmers and farm animals, and gained that sainthood partly by his reputation for being kind to animals). There are six bulls killed a night over 21 days...do the math.

The bull fights sell out years in advance...so we were very lucky to get tickets at all...let alone at such good seats. Our evening was sold out...all 23,000 seats were full...and the King of Spain was actually in attendance...

THE FOLLOWING PICTURES ARE GRAPHIC IN NATURE

I'm not going to go into the details explaining all the parts of a bull fight...who does what and when, what everything stands for and means. I am glad that we went, because I wanted to experience Spanish culture...all parts of it. 

However, I can tell you that it is something I have no desire to ever do again. And from my seat, looking around at the audience, I can tell you that it was a very mature crowd...it seemed we were some of the youngest people there. This told me that bull fighting is a dying tradition in Spain...the young, future generation of Spaniards want no part of this custom.

And although we stomached all 6 bull fights, and I know that these bulls are treated better than any cow that ever made my hamburger, and I know that every part of this bull will be used for food and leather and whatever (in fact, the meat of these bulls is awarded to the top restaurants in Spain)...

I still found it to be barbaric, cruel, and a completely unnecessary form of "entertainment". However, I can tell you that the third bull fighter was a master at his sport. He was as beautiful and majestic as one could be, doing what he was doing, and earned several "Oles!!" with each pass of the bull...so close that by time he was done, he was covered in the bulls blood. 

In fact, it was so well done that he was actually awarded BOTH the bulls ears...a rare gift. He was paraded around the ring while flowers and hats and shawls were thrown at his feet from admirers, treated to a salute of the entire audience waving white handkerchiefs in the air, and carried out of the stadium on the shoulders of the people. Receiving both the ears of the bull you have killed is such a seldom treasure (the last time it happened was decades ago)...that it was actually broadcast on ESPN that night.

I only have one more post about our trip...and it's from my FAVORITE activity that we did. I will write that tomorrow (I hope)...but before I go, I wanted to say that one of the reasons I had such a good time on this trip (besides the beautiful locale, amazing food and excursions, and being with my best friend in the whole wide world)...is that I really enjoyed spending some time with friends.

We were able to spend some time with several couples we met last year in Hawaii, and made lots of new friends as well. I could name LOTS of names...but let's just say that I'm REALLY hoping we all make it again next year because I don't think that I can get enough of these people.

I was REALLY glad that there seemed to be a good amount of REDHEADS on this trip. 

There were a couple of us that had a really good time together, and that I really enjoyed spending time with...Erin and Colleen. I called us the "Tres Pelirojas Locas"...although they were FAR crazier than me. But they had me in stitches every time we were together, and their good humor and witty jokes were infectious. So I wanted to thank them for making my trip all the more fun.

Thanks, girls...because of you, my memories are all the more golden.

Or should I say: Auburn, Strawberry, and Bronze?

The Trip of a Lifetime...The Hunt for Churros con Chocolate

There is a delicious rumor of a delightful dessert that has been perfected in Spain. A magical, savory, sweet, rich, decadent, marvelous, elation-inducing Spanish treat...known locally as "churros con chocolate".

It is NOT like the fat sugary churros we Americanos buy at amusement parks. The chocolate is NOT your average package of Swiss Miss.

No...this is an entirely different animal altogether.

Jason and I had hunted for churros con chocolate in Barcelona...discovering the famous place where they are supposedly THE BEST...approximately 15 minutes after the churro-maker had gone home for the day.

Undaunted, we picked up our quest in Madrid.

Along the way, we discovered many other famous Spanish treats...the famous Orxata drink (made from chufa nuts), Torron (kind of like an almond bark)...and in Toledo...mazapan (but that, my friends, is a different story). And of course, I sampled chocolate every where I could. (Most chocolate in Spain is NOT sweet...much more like dark chocolate...so I could eat it all day).

Our hunt also took us on a tour of downtown Madrid, where we discovered many beautiful sights and treasures...

...the very center of Spain...from which all stories start...

We toured the Royal Palace...

...and spied upon the adjacent Cathedral.

We looked for the treasured symbols of Madrid, such as this Bear and Madrono tree (the bears are all extinct, but their are still Madrono trees)...

...and the monument to King Carlos III, the "Mayor of Madrid", a king that believed in improving his cities for the people, and subsequent hero of this city.

We found many, many interesting places to eat as well...

...for example, another market. Unlike the bustling Boqueria in Barcelona, this market was orderly, refined, and upscale. It still had the amazing selection of produce and meats and various other goodies, but lacked the scale and local color of the Boqueria in Barcelona...

That doesn't mean that I wasn't just as enthralled with the wares...

...we also found a Puerte de Sol institution, La Mallorquina, a bakery famous for it's napolitanas and rosquillas (of which I tried both...rosquillas are like Spanish donuts...splurge for the ones that are listas..."all dressed up").

There's something utterly charming about getting your bakery purchases all wrapped up and tied with a string, isn't there?

By time Jason had explored this slightly disturbing meat locker, I had begun to lose hope. But then, we stumbled upon friends, who inspired us onward, and with the help of a a couple locals, we wandered down a twisting alley...

...into another, smaller alley...and came upon the local-kept secret of the BEST chocolateria in Madrid...

...San Gines...selling freshly made savory churros with thick, decadent hot chocolate (or cafe, if you prefer) since 1894...

We snagged a table outside (after I had been yelled out for my enthusiasm by the girl behind the counter...in ENGLISH, mind you...)...and placed our order...

My sweetie, who has indulged my quest all day, is grateful for a chance to rest his aching feet...

...and ur friends, who urged us not to give up, joined us to relish in the spoils of conquest.

And here it is!! The source of my angst and desperation...the famed "churros con chocolate"...piping hot and rich and, can I just say...AMAZING!!!

So now I must go...because it's time to dig in...

Thank you, Espana...I love you more and more each day...