EXCERPT FROM SARA’S JOURNALMay 18, 1999
Calle Conde de Barajas, Seville
Serendipitous Survivors Say "So Long" to Seville
Dick and Gail are golden and glowing in the dim light of the pizzeria.
A man in a collared shirt, local, swallowing a mouthful of ice-cold Cruzcampo –
Andalusia’s beer – walks over to our table and reaches behind me. By pulling a
switch a great rumble begins, with a blast of stale air over our beer and thin crust
tropicanos. "You people look like you could use some air conditioning."
Tomorrow morning Rich’s parents will leave Seville, with a
stop-over in London, and then head back to the grind of Toronto and their real lives
– lives without broken showers and racing motorcycles, earplugs, mysterious beds and
sky-high wobbling cable cars. They’re ecstatic with their holiday, marveling at the
map we’ve highlighted, with all the routes taken and the places they’ve stayed.
"It’s going to be hard to go back to Palm Springs next year, after everything
we’ve experienced in Andalusia!" Gail beams.
It seems Parental Tourism has succeeded – namely at the art of
Mosey – the art of serendipity, because of some happy accidents, happy travelers,
some whitewashed surprises, an extraordinary May heatwave, a farmer with a penchant for
Monte Cristos. Dick and Gail have, in their way, conquered the unsettling and embraced the
unexpected and survived to go home and process their experiences, and understand our
adventure, with happy memories and a wanderlust for more.
