The Year of Taking: Stephen O'Flynn Edition

The Year of Taking (tm) went global last week! That is right I was taking things all over Spain and it felt great.

In the first hotel at which we stayed in Barcelona I took two bath sponges (didn't know if they were supposed to be used to clean our bodies or if the hotel wanted us to clean out the tub) and some soaps. Sadly the housekeeping person seemed to notice that I was filching soaps and quit bringing them to us so I was forced to take them off the housekeeping cart when she wasn't looking.   You snooze you lose.

During most of my stay in Barcelona I was walking around and seeing the sights so there wasn't much to take.  Then I got hit by a stomach bug so I wasn't even able to take food and eat it!  Score 1: Spain.

Last weekend Jonathan and I traveled 3 hours south of Barcelona by train to visit our friend Stephen O'Flynn whom I have known for 17 years and who traveled all the way from Spain to Mexico to attend our wedding nearly 7 years ago. I adore Flynnie and, in fact, adopted him as my brother several years ago. It wasn't legally binding so I am not obligated to send Christmas or birthday gifts...its more of an honorary thing which requires that he buy me beer at every opportunity.  Visiting Flynnie in Valencia was a boon for the Year of Taking!! So much taking going on!

First when we arrived at Flynnie's apartment we gave him some presents from the US.  Honestly I am glad he took the gifts off our hands because they were freaking heavy and I may have suffered some kind of permanent back damage from hauling those things around the world.  (He asked for cajun spices so I brought lots).  In return I took several beers, some wine, and water from his refrigerator. He said I could take all I wanted. So I did. Score!

Here is Flynnie opening our gift and finding a really spicy cajun seasoning.  We included a few more but this one was a big hit.  To support the Year of Taking, Flynnie specifically asked me to make sure to "take" the spices from someone else. But that never really panned out so I knew I had to give him a gift that I had "taken" as well.

So what else could I give him but the sponges from our bathroom at our hotel in Barcelona?  Flynnie seemed disproportionally excited about the sponges but what do you expect? He is Irish...they get excited about everything.

Visiting Flynnie was a lot of fun but really exhausting.  For one thing his perspective on distance is somewhat skewed.  When Flynnie says that a restaurant is "a couple of blocks away" what he is really saying is that "it is on the other side of the country; bring a sleeping bag and pack a snack because it will take an hour to walk there". Oh and he LOVES to walk.  He walks everywhere no matter how far his destination is and without regard to the fact that some distances are better served by grabbing a taxi.  And he feels that his guests should participate in his leisurely strolls forced marches.  I am starting to think that life in Spain has driven him a little mad.

One night to go eat dinner we took the most arduous of the forced marches which I have renamed "The March of Tears (tm)".  The March of Tears was an emotional and difficult night for all of us because after walking all the way to Portugal for dinner at a restaurant that Flynnie described as "the best ever" we found that the restaurant we had been promised had stopped serving dinner at midnight which is when we arrived.  After being rejected at multiple other eateries I finally resorted to my tried and true method for getting a table at a restaurant: I curled into a fetal position on the floor and whailed as loudly as possible until they agreed to sedate me with vodka and bring us all some food.  I don't know what the waiter said to Flynnie in Spanish but I am pretty sure he is banned from ever coming to that restaurant again.  Serves him right.

Here are Flynnie and Jonathan rapidly downing some booze after the March of Tears (tm) and my temper tantrum on the floor.  I think they needed drinks at that point:

In our other adventures in Valencia we reluctantly joined Stephen O'Flynn for an event he described as 

"At 1pm we will head to the Plaza del Ayuntamiento early to get a good place to stand for the day's Mascletà. Fireworks use explosions to make shinies to look at. Mascletàs use gunpowder to make as much noise as possible without causing hearing damage. Conservatively, around 200 lbs of gunpowder will be exploded strategically in the centre of the city for the entertainment of citizens." - from Super Awesome Travels in Valencia travel agenda by S. O'Flynn

Needless to say his description of this local experiment in torture festival had me nervous about my future ability to hear normal sounds and voices.  I was especially worried about my career which revolves around my ability to listen to people tell me about their work histories.  

It turns out that Flynnie should never work in the travel business. Or event marketing business either.  What he described in our travel agenda is really part of an annual festival called Las Fallas.  Wikipedia describes it as follows:

The Falles (Valencian: [ˈfaʎes], sing. Falla; Spanish: Fallas) is a traditional celebration held in commemoration of Saint Joseph in Valencia, Spain. The term Falles refers to both the celebration and the monuments created during the celebration. A number of towns in the Valencian Community have similar celebrations inspired by the original in Valencia. The five days and nights of Falles are a continuous party. There are a multitude of processions: historical processions, religious processions, and comedic processions. Crowds in the restaurants spill out into the streets. Explosions can be heard all day long and sporadically through the night. The Mascletà, an explosive barrage of coordinated firecracker and fireworks displays, takes place in each neighbourhood at 2:00 pm every day of the festival; the main event is the municipal Mascletà in the Plaça de l'Ajuntament where the pyrotechnicians compete for the honor of providing the final Mascletà of the fiestas (on March 19). At 2:00 pm the clock chimes and the Fallera Mayor (dressed in her fallera finery) will call from the balcony of the City Hall, Senyor pirotècnic, pot començar la mascletà! ("Mr. Pyrotechnic, you may commence the Mascletà!"), and the Mascletà begins.

Mascletà is almost unique to the Valencian Community, hugely popular with the Valencian people and found in very few other places in the world. Smaller neighbourhoods often hold their own mascletà for saint's days, weddings and other celebrations.

The Mascletà was a really fun and lively event and yes there were explosions but they weren't that loud...I mean there were children there so how bad could it be? This is the "after" photo after they did all the pyrotechnics...lots of smoke.

During our visit to Valencia we had several lively brainstorming sessions (complete with powerpoint presentations and graphs) about what I could take from Spain for The Year of Taking?  One great idea was to take the Holy Grail which supposedly resides in a church near Flynnie's apartment.  You can go into the church and actually see the Grail but we were there after one of our late night forced marches so the church was closed and I didn't bring my lock picks or rappelling gear with me so I was unprepared to break in and take a major religious artifact.  Also in the back of my mind I realized that I was unclear on the penalties for a B&E in Spain...probably pretty strict now that I think about it.

That left me in a bit of a quandary.  I mean to have the opportunity to take the actual Holy Grail and not be able to attempt it (because I am sure it wasn't well guarded or anything) was disappointing to say the least.  But then I realized that Flynnie had something almost as valuable in his possession: A Fat Boy Beanbag Chair.  If you have ever been sucked (literally) into one of these evilly comfortable things you know that it is one of the most comfortable and peaceful places to rest.

Picture doesn't really do it justice...

Here is an action shot of me enjoying the bean bag:

At last I found the thing I wanted most to take with me...the bean bag.  But I knew that Flynnie wasn't going to give it up easily as it is his most prized piece of furniture.  So I thought I could be sneaky by putting it in my bag...

Wait I know I can get it to fit...

OK it clearly won't fit in my backpack.  Need plan B.  Will drag it out the front door and go buy a suitcase to take it back to the US. Excellent plan.

What could possibly go wrong with this plan? Why is the beanbag suddenly so heavy? I thought Flynnie was in his bedroom and couldn't see what I was doing....

Oh my goodness...has he no shame??? Why are you making this so hard for me Stephen?? C'mon.

This was the most pathetic sight I had ever seen.  I mean it was one thing when Dick Douglas wrested control of the stag's head that I tried to steal from his house but as you can see here Flynnie is crying and begging me not to take the beanbag. He calls it his "safe place" and he said that if I took it that he would have to go back on his medication again. Eventually the whole situation got so emotional and uncomfortable that I dropped the beanbag and left Stephen curled up on top of it with a bottle of gin while I went out to get some air and clear my head.  Hands down that was the most awkward Year of Taking (tm) moment so far this year. I had no idea that Flynnie was so disturbed and that he had such an attachment to the bean bag chair.  Honestly, I didn't need to know that his emotional problems had devolved this far but I am hoping that he can get the help he needs through Spain's socialized medical program.

Flynnie - thanks for playing along with the Year of Taking! You were the host with the most and we will come back and visit you/take from you any time we can! That is, if I am not banned from your apartment and Spain in general by now.