Spain

Nadine and kids knocked slushy snow off their ski boots in Güéjar Sierra. The crew had to travel to Valencia before the Spanish New Year.

Cautiously excavating the Peugeot from an overpriced underground parking unit into the early morning sun, our brief time here was over. It was time for skiing Sierra Nevada, the mountains looming over Granada.

Does Rudolph have a sixth sense? Does GPS guide Santa’s sleigh? How do all those Christmas presents make their way around so quickly and accurately? Does he know we’re here in Spain? These were some of the kid’s questions for a Christmas in Spain.

You can imagine my surprise when I saw the dessert menu after gorging on delicious paella. Listed in red on the menu was a dessert interestingly named “fartó”! Out of sheer curiosity, I had to order the fartó.

Two years ago, teachers and I bounced around northeastern Spain with twenty something teenagers. It was so much fun the first time, we decided to do it again with another group. The cold, wet, nippy weather followed us from Omaha to London, and then jumped on the plane to Barcelona.