¡OLÉ!

¡OLÉ!

“Rekindling the Joy of Overland Life in España”

Ever since we began our full time overland life, a challenge I’d been grappling with was feeling close in my marriage, yet so far away from rest of the world – particularly friends, family, and a place called “home.” Although for some, home is where you park it. For me something happens when we embark on these most fantastical journeys that has me feel so close, yet so far away. Perhaps it’s the distance between time and space, the absence of familiarity with certainty, or the lack of language to connect with the people around me that creates this void.

Since we arrived in Europe, we’d been stoking the handful of special experiences we’d had (the why), and trying to keep our hands warm. But like our flimsy trekking umbrellas, the embers weren’t strong enough for the relentless days of rain and wind, and jarring stop start challenges of overlanding in Europe. Once we entered Spain, we experienced this forecast letting up, but only as we neared the end of our time in Jerez de la Frontera (which also delivered more of the same) did we stop questioning our compass.

I came to Boulder, Colorado and got sucked into the vortex of my spiritual life (à la Trungpa Rinpoche). We came to Jerez de la Frontera and got sucked into the vortex of our flamenco life, where every sound we heard became a beat, step, or song in a bulería. The compás became our compass, tapas became our breakfast lunch (and/or) dinner, and sherry became an afternoon tea. We stopped resisting the challenges, and instead, started saying, “¡Olé!”