New addition to the family

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Things that we've been contemplating for several months now are finally coming together. I don't know if that is because we are getting more proficient at living in Spain and being pseudo-Spaniards, or, if it just took a long time and the fruits of our labors are finally coming.20140216-204531.jpg

One of those things, is to find a Chinese housekeeper here in Madrid. After a lot of searching, and some very awkward 'interviews', our new Ayi started today. Her name is Fang and she is originally from Shandong, China. She spent 5 hours with us today and I really hope it works out. I'm not getting my hopes up too high right now because we went through three ayis in Beijing before we found Xiao Guo.

Olive and I met Fang at the metro station and we walked together to our house so she would know the way. She's very interested to find a bus that will get her near our house but I am completely incompetent about the Madrid bus system. You would think I would've explored the bussing options back when I was walking 6 miles per day (that was pre-car and pre-bicycle) but I never did.

I'm really excited that having Fang in out lives will allow us to have a little more free time to enjoy our lives here in Spain, by liberating us from the drudgery of using the world's smallest washing machine, and ironing our own clothes. It sounds horrible, I know. These are not real problems, but we are definitely hoping to get more free time.

Today went pretty well and we were able to communicate well enough. Our Chinese is definitely rusty! My old Chinese teacher would've been appalled if she heard me interspersing English words, Spanish words, and the occasional pantomime into Chinese sentences. Fang understood mostly. Her mandarin accent is more similar to the Beijing accent that we're familiar with than some of the other people that we interviewed.

Let's hope it works out!

Morocco - Travel Day

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Up at 4:00am. We have a habit of picking early morning flights. Although we got an extra hour of sleep as a result of the "fall back" daylight savings. Thankfully. Our "night before" scrambling was much less this time. Jess and I have been known to stay up well into the morning getting things prepared before a trip. We were better this time but still up quite late to get everything ready for our vacation to Morocco. Pre-trip preparations were less than usual because it's a short flight (only 2.5 hours) and we will only be there for 6 days. Pretty simple from a logistical point of view. Passport, underwear, iPad, toothbrush? Check! This is the first trip in Spain where we've driven to the airport and left our rental car. I did a dry-run to the airport Saturday so we wouldn't be completely clueless and stressed out in the morning darkness. It went pretty well, only one hiccup which was the main gate to the long term parking was blocked off. After circling a few times (and yelling out the car window to a police officer in horrible Spanglish) we finally got it figured out and parked the car.

We are well known for having more luggage than we can physically move (thanks to those of you that repeatedly help us by picking us up and dropping us off; it really makes a huge difference). Not this time. Welcome to RyanAir! RyanAir is a European budget airline (think Southwest, but more strict). Their fares are pretty cheap throughout Europe, but everything costs extra, and I do mean everything. If you do not read the fine print and follow the rules then they charge you for everything. Luckily for me my travel agent excels at reading the fine print and following the rules. Therefore, because of RyanAir's extreme baggage rules, we packed light.

As we were waiting to check in I saw a Moroccan family trying to shove their too-large carry on suitcase into the metal box that checks the size of the baggage. Of course it wouldn't fit and they were holding up the line. Apparently their travel agent didn't stay up late the night before with a ruler and scale agonizing over the weight and dimensions of the various suit case options. I don't stress about this since Jess stresses enough for both of us. My only contribution to the entire process is to weight myself, then weigh myself with the bag. Depending on how late it is at the time, the resulting math can be quite complicated. Sometimes I even get to convert between pounds and kilos. But don't worry, there's an app for that!

Back to the Moroccan family: These are the same people who attempted to board with the passengers that paid extra to purchase an assigned seat. If you don't have an assigned seat then you must wait in line to get the best available (I think Southwest does something similar). They we're reprimanded by the gate checking lady. I felt bad. Sort of.

A few other interesting tidbits about flying RyanAir: - we flew a Boeing 737/800 - The seats don't recline. I'm serious. What a wasted up-sell opportunity. They could have little locks on the recliner mechanism on each seat and sell the recliner option while they try to sell you coffee and crappy pre-made sandwiches. I think i should be in sales. - RyanAir is the world's most on-time airline. Apparently one of the benefits of having people scramble to get an unassigned seat is that there is no screwing around during the boarding process. It's like a Black Friday sale at Walmart and the doors just opened. If you're a child or elderly, stay away from the sales items or you might just get trampled. The same mindset is apparent in the people that board the RyanAir flights. The doors to the plane closed early and we pushed way from the gate early. - No free water, no peanuts, no movies, no in-flight anything. You sit there and they move you from point A to point B. I did notice that the toilet was still free. Suckers.

Through a stroke of luck (or genius planning), when Jess reserved the seats on our flight, the kids were not allowed to sit in an exit row so Jess and I were in 1B and 1C, and the kids were in the row behind us. I don't think Jess and I have sat alone on a flight like that since our honeymoon. And it felt basically the same, accept Truman was kicking the back of the seat during takeoff. Either way the kids did great during the flight; all three were glued to their iPads.

We landed in Marrakech early and leisurely handled the immigration process. The Marrakech airport is your typical small, warm climate airport. You get off the airplane and walk more-or-less uncontrolled along the runway to the only airport building. It's not quite as picturesque as Maui, nor as quaint as Bohal, Philippines, but it's still a nice little setup.

It turns out that we shouldn't have approached the immigration process so leisurely because immediately after our plane landed, so did ten others. A hallmark of a poorly run country is a poorly run immigration check-in process. There's a reason Morocco isn't setting global policy in the G20 Summit sessions. I haven't endured such a cluster of an immigration check-in since Bangkok during peak landing time. In fact, we were in line for immigration longer than we were on the airplane. I'm not going to complain because the kids are old enough to be entertained by their iPads, and we hadn't just suffered through a terrible overnight flying ordeal but still, come on, get it together! It's not like the same volume of passengers don't land at the same time every freaking day. Don't act surprised when it happens. I've met Boy Scouts more prepared.

We eventually get though the theme park-frenzied line and make our way up to the counter. The guy checking us in couldn't have been more than 25. He was basically a Wells Fargo data entry guy, in a military-style uniform, that happened to have ex-passenger foreigners standing awkwardly in front of him. He took our passports and "disembarking forms" and entered the information into the computer. He didn't look at us, check the pictures, or ask us any questions at all. We could've been Ike and Tina Turner, Barney, the Lone Ranger, and Hannah Montana entering Morocco. Either way we finally got though the process, got our bags, and changed out some money before the first kid had to go to the bathroom.

We met our shuttle driver out by the arrivals gate. He was a nice guy who drove a large Hyundai shuttle van. Once you leave the Marrakech airport grounds, you drive on normal roads until you reach the "Medina" which is the main city (with actual city walls). From there until the we reached the hotel, it was Pac-Man style driving around donkey carts, motor scooters and pedestrians. There were many taxis around, all of the same early 1990s, Mercedes-Benz sedan, diesel variety.

The city itself is dominated by a single color: salmon. The dirt is salmon, the walls of the buildings are made from brick that is the same salmon color. Everywhere you look you see the same salmon color and a few dots of green trees. The dryness is also distinctly noticeable. The Sahara desert is farther to the south, over a string of mountains called the Atlas Mountains, but even with this divider, the dryness is stark. We were told it only rains a handful of times per year. The soil is red, and rocky. Things grow in it but I don't quite understand how. The city itself, has access to water via wells, and a few canals/aqueducts from the mountains.

The commute from the airport to the hotel took around 20 minutes, but it was impossible to tell how much distance we covered during that time because, once we entered the city walls I don't think we drove straight for more than 100 yards. Finally our driver parks the van in a bricked courtyard and I look back at Jess with a "Where the hell is the hotel?" look on my face. We quickly found out because the hotel, or Riad, was down a few narrow alleyways. Behind a small black door (about 4 feet tall), labelled #66, was the entrance to the hotel. We ducked inside and walk into the Riad courtyard.

The Riad itself is three stories tall, with four large rental rooms, and rooftop terrace, a small kitchen, and a room for the owner. Jess and I (and Truman) have a room, and then the kids have their own separate room down the hallway. The "hallway" looks out into the central courtyard below. The courtyard is well-designed, since it stays cool from the sun, and quiet from the outside noise of downtown Marrakech.

We were given Moroccan tea by the hotel manager, and then a French-style breakfast (basically bread, jam, and coffee). I asked for a fried egg because I'm needy.

Fall, Paella, and Morocco, Oh-My!

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Fall is definitely here and I'm loving it! The temps have been in the low 20s which is fantastic. We've had nice breezes and the occasional rain shower. It's nice to be able to enjoy the weather some on the weekends. During the summer I was in the office everyday so getting "outside time" was a pretty rare thing. We have more or less landed ourselves into a weekly schedule. We are still doing home improvement projects but our weekends are no longer a 48 hour marathon of unpacking, shopping, and painting. Hopefully we use the weekend time to both relax and explore. Sometimes after a long week you just want to lounge around the house, but if we do that every year then we'll never get to experience anything new and exciting.

Every once in a while we are able to lift our thoughts from the day-to-day work of "life and routine establishment" and do a little mid-term planning. We'd like to take a more proactive approach to traveling while we are in Spain. That was something that was not as possible while we were Sweden and traveling around interior China was not so accessible for a variety of reasons. We've decided to visit Morocco at the end of October and we're investigating fun weekend trips. If anyone has any great ideas, please let us know.

Jess and I are pretty underwhelmed by the variety of after school activities provided by the school. I keep prodding Jess that she needs to work with the school to do an after-school baseball class or some other fun activity for the kids. She's not so convinced yet, but I plan to keep working on her ...

We are now in October and that means Adeline's birthday is getting close. As luck would have it, there is another girl in her class that shares the same birthdate so they've decided to have a joint birthday party. Addi spent some at the other girl's house to do some party planning. She's pretty excited and periodically announces how many days are left until her birthday to anyone who is standing nearby.

I found a new crossfit box pretty near our house. I stopped in a few Saturdays ago to get more details. Of course no one who was there spoke English, but we had enough Spanglish between us to set up a follow-up "interview" on Monday night. The interview went well and I had my first class the following day. For some reason I forgot that I've been a couch potato for 7 months so completely crushed ... the warm-up. After that I was a shaky, pitiful mess. I couldn't hardly walk for days and I had to take two weeks off before my next workout (this week). I'm sure I'm impressing everyone at the gym with my American super powers.

Luckily for us, we've found a new church! This is a big deal for us and I'm super excited. It's not very close to our house (about 30 km away) but the people are nice and English is the predominant language. We've gone twice and had a positive experience both times. More about that later.

Take care everyone. I hope you're all planing killer Halloween costumes, starting to think about Thanksgiving menus, and watching the Broncos destroy everyone else in the NFL.

Blurbs

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Wow, there is so much going on that we should be blogging about. Unfortunately, the fact that there is so much going on that we should be blogging about means we are completely busy working through it and not blogging about it. It's a vicious cycle that we discovered in Stockholm and Beijing and it's somehow reassuring that it's playing itself out as expected here in Madrid as well. It's not an exaggeration that we are in a funk as a family at the moment. We have not yet established a routine, made friends, figured out the easy way to get things, or have a house that is "put together". All of these things are tearing and tugging at us and our patience is thin and our outlook tends towards the negative. Luckily, we know that this is a phase and eventually we break through and relish in the joys of being where we are. It just takes some time.

I have many items that could be their own 5,000 word blog posts but, unfortunately, I'm honest enough with myself to admit that chances are slight that I'll ever get around to blogging them. So I'll post a few blurbs here just so I don't forget them altogether.

  • I had my first Spanish lesson this past week. Due to my work schedule I've been putting them off for months. But as they say, "the best time to plant a tree was thirty years ago, the second best time is today." I'm 100% convinced that nothing stretches your brain like learning to play an instrument or learning a new language. Screw Sodoku, learn Arabic if you want to maintain your neuroplasticity. I won't get to Arabic any time soon, since I need to learn Spanish to live, and I'm busy trying not to forget the little Mandarin I fought so hard to learn. Muy bien! The kids have already started Spanish class in school, and Jess will most likely take classes whenever she gets a free moment to think.

  • I achieved a major milestone this week; I successfully put gas in the rental car. I know, it's sounds like a triviality, but trust me, it's not. In fact, I was dreading it and finding excuses to postpone the inevitable. Eventually, I lost the chicken match with the little red gas light and had to pull over to the Repsol station near my office. I did a lot of grunting and pointing with the gas station attendant, and eventually got the pump turned on and received 40 euros worth of 95 octane into our loser mobile. Don't get me wrong, I love the hell out of that car (there are so many things that you simply cannot do without a car), but it's L.A.M.E.. More lame then the GL8? I think so. At least the GL8 came with a Mr. Ren. :)

  • Speaking of driving. The roundabouts, seriously, they went a little overboard. Driving around town is like mountain driving. I'm zooming around roundabouts and half roundabouts and when I look in the rearview mirror, the kids are sloshing around in the backseat like water in a bucket. When Katie and Bret come to visit, he's seriously going vomit when he looks at the city planning. It couldn't be more inefficient if they tried. And I used to live in China; I feel like I have a pretty good understanding of what inefficiency looks like.

  • We purchased a BBQ last weekend. This story is too good for a blurb so I'll work really hard at typing up a full run-down of my (still not functioning) BBQ.

  • Jess has been spending every waking moment doing dishes, laundry, or painting the walls. She's exhausted 24/7. On the plus side, the house decorating is improving every week.

  • The kids are adjusting to their new lives. I'm having daddy guilt; there are quite a few tearful bedtimes.

  • We should buy stock in IKEA.

Lesson. Learned.

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A few nights ago I road my bike to the store to pick up some groceries. Jess and I were able to talk on the phone (finally! It felt like it's been ages) so I got a late start on my errands. It wasn't dark yet, but is was starting to get dark-ish. I did some "exploratory biking" which basically means that I ride my bike in a certain direction to see what's there. When I'm done, I always wish I would have turned on the GPS tracker on my phone because it would be great to see the convoluted route I take as I hit dead-ends, construction fences, and freeways, thus causing me to backtrack and take a different route. After my exploratory biking (during which I excitedly found an organic grocery store!) I stopped by the Alcampo store to buy some groceries. It's hard to describe, but picture a Super Walmart (are they called Super Walmarts? Maybe I'm thinking of Super Targets? K-Marts were Big K-Marts, so what the heck are the grocery-store-Walmarts called? Anyway, I digress.). So think of a Super/Big/Grocery Walmart that anchors a medium sized mall, that's what Alcampo is like. Although the wine section is probably 60ft x 100ft large, so it's not exactly like Walmart, but you get my point.

As usual, I lock my bike to the bike rack and walk in with my backpack. The backpack is why I never have enough food in the house; you can only buy food for 1-2 days when whatever you buy has to fit in your backpack. I feel a bit stupid for even bringing it up, because much of the world lives in urban environments without car access and they do exactly what I'm doing (buying groceries one day at a time and carrying them back home on a bike or walking). But for me, the entire process is a novelty, and by novelty, I mean annoying.

Let's do a little word game here. I say Super Walmart. What do you think of? I can tell you what I don't think of. Bicycles. Nope, bicycles I definitely do NOT think of. I think of giant shopping carts, cars, massive parks lots, kids (mostly mine) that won't stay in the shopping cart, and are being very vocal about it if they are (just kidding, my kids are perfect, yours are bad.) I'm definitely not thinking bicycles or those hand pull grocery carts.

Interesting note about the backpack: when you go into Alcampo or Carrefour or another large store with a backpack, the security guy by the entrance puts a zip tie through the zippers so you can't get it open in the store. Makes sense, right? They don't want you stealing a 12-pack of TP and shoving it in your backpack. Am I right, or am I right? Actually it makes perfect sense, unless you don't speak Spanish.

When I run I errands, I just want to blend in and pretend I'm a normal guy. This was generally not possible in China, which is why every errand was exhausting (until you get to the point that you just don't care that people stare and laugh at you, but it took years for us to develop that level of confidence). But in Spain, I look like everyone else so I just try to blend in. Part of my blend in strategy is to listen to music, podcasts, or the unbelievably awesome audio version of The Economist while I shop. That way no one will be tempted to talk to me. So picture this, the first time I enter the store, I'm just a normal guy, listening to my music, until I notice the security guard is yelling something at me (not in an angry way, just in a loud way, because I didnt hear him the first few times) and jogging towards me.

Let's take a moment to define the term security guard. When I say security guard, I don't mean mall cop. These security guards are not crazy obese, with nothing but a walky-talky strapped to a belt given the impossible task of keeping those pants up. On the other hand, I'm not talking Philippines security guard who is 16 - 22 years old, wearing an ill-fitting security guard uniform and a starter mustache, with a pearl-handled six-shot revolver in an Old West style leather holster on a bandolier with a shiny brass buckle. No, visualize something in between those two extremes. The security guard at Alcampo has a shaved head, is trim (neither big nor small) and has a few tattoos. He looks like he could move if he had to (no Segway needed), but they never do.

Until now, and he's moving towards me.

At this point, I have to give up my act, confess I don't speak Spanish and that I'm not a normal guy. I have no idea what he wants, but I run through a mental checklist:

  • Have I stolen anything? No, I just walked into the store.
  • Am I inappropriately dressed? Uhh, for a Walmart-clone? I take a quick look around and everyone is dressed more-or-less like me. So no.
  • Do I have to pay a cover charge to get in? Oops, it's a grocery store, not a bar. No.
  • So by process of elimination, he must want my backpack. Bingo.

Please note that while I'm running through my checklist, he's talking to me the entire time. I throw him my motto for the summer No hablo español. He continues to talk to me like I just said Please talk to me as much as you can in Spanish, I'm understanding every word. He gestures to my backpack. I give it to him. This looks like a normal place, with normal people, and I'm pretty sure I will get my backpack returned to me, but there's always that nagging 1% in the back of your mind thinking What if you don't?.

But I play along, and follow him back to his security podium by the entrance. I'm thinking he's going to hand me a claim ticket so I can get my bag back. Instead, he whips out wad of LONG bright blue zip ties, like I'm going to be handcuffed Guantanamo-style, but then deftly weaves one through all the zippers on my bag and snips off the excess. The security guard gives me a movie star smile as he hands me back my now secured backpack. No hams will be pilfered by this backpack on his watch. Nice work. I take my backpack and continue on into the store. Until I realize that my shopping list is IN the backpack! Oh well, live and learn.

Now when I walk into the store, I hand my backpack over right away because remember, I'm just a normal guy and I know how all this works.

Fast forward to several nights ago. I get the things I need and head out out of the store to where my bike is chained up. Its 10:00pm so there are only two bikes there so there's no confusion about which one is mine, but something looks odd about my bike. It takes me a split second to realize the odd-ness is caused by the fact that my bicycle no longer has a seat. Some schmuck stole my seat and seat post! Odd Because I'm an urbanite newbie, it never dawned on me that my mountain bike has a quick-adjust seat. You pull the lever to release, it frees the seat to move up or down. If you pull the seat up high enough it comes completely off. Apparently, there are many non-newbie urbanites that shop at Alcampo, and they know a free bike seat when they see one.

I'm annoyed. Not really mad, but just frustrated that I didn't have the common sense to realize my seat has been in danger for the past week. Lesson learned, I think. I look around the store entrance, thinking whoever stole my seat might still be there having a nice laugh at my expense. Nope. Probably a good thing I guess.

In retrospect, I've come to rationalize the entire unfortunate situation. I can only assume that someone had their seat stolen, and therefore, stole mine, such that they could have a fully functioning bike again. Perhaps there is a shortage of bike seats in Madrid, so the entire situation is like musical chairs, where bike seats are constantly being passed (stolen) around between the bike riding community.

So that night I got to walk home, pushing my bike. Not a big deal. If you recall, I walk a lot. The bike still technically functioned, but I didn't want to ride standing up and risk forgetting and sitting down where the seat used to be. I calculated the extra time needed to walk home versus the feeling of sitting on a metal bar, and made the conservative choice.

Yesterday, I walked the three miles to Decathlon (a French sporting goods store) and bought a new seat, new seat post, and some cool bicycle bags (that go on either side of the rear wheel). I have a usable bike now, and I'm using Jess's bike lock to secure my seat to the bike. I haven't gone back to Alcampo yet, but I will. And I'll keep you posted.

Madrid

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I had huge hopes of re-doing the blog and having a http://madrid.cooperfamilyadventures.com domain, but truth-be-told, I don't even have the time to put sheets on the bed (true) let alone spend hours monkeying with the blog. So for now, it will stay http://beijing.cooperfamilyadventures.com.

To go with our "not quite right" domain name will be the tired layout of the blog. Again, time is the culprit here. I have visions of getting it updated, together with Jess when she returns, but we will see. Jess has her work cut out for her turning our house into a home, and ordering furniture to replace what we couldn't bring with us from China. Our landlord was supposed to donate the pieces we left behind, but somehow, that doesn't seem like the kind of thing a landlord would do. Who knows? Maybe I'm not giving him enough credit.

For now, it's more important to get the content posted than to tweak the aesthetics. The blog (when we actually manage to update it) might be interesting reading for you guys (I'm not so sure), but it's like a diary for us. It's a way to snapshot feelings, frustrations, and joys of new experiences before we lose them into the blur of day-to-day living. If you experience the bizarre enough, it eventually becomes routine and you stop noticing it. That's what happened to us in China. Most of our posts were triggered by frustrations at not being able to live like we thought we should, or when our Western cultural norms created a stark juxtaposition against the China environment. If you don't write stuff down when you experience it, then it's gone. Your memories are colored by time and your brain makes up a lot of stuff. I've come to realize that our brains are the ultimate revisionist historians. Write it down now, that's our blogging mantra, and certainly our intention. Unfortunately, lack of time has been the thief of many of my would-be-great blog posts. I still have a half-finished blog post about Dubai on my computer ...

But for now, I'll summarize for you: Madrid is nice, clean, and hot. Our house is nice, not-so-clean, and hot. I can't wait for everyone to visit us. See you soon!

Cheers.

Car-less

in

Trying to live a normal life in Madrid is eerily reminiscent of my first summer in Beijing. You want to feel normal, you want to feel like an adult, but truth-be-told you have very little idea about how things work in the environment you find yourself in. It’s possible to continue trying new things with reckless abandon, but eventually you grow tired of being out on a limb and looking foolish because you don’t understand the system, or the language, etc. In fact, for me, I can only try so many new things before I simply wear out, grow tired, and need to recharge with some normalcy. That’s where I find myself now, struggling to be self-sufficient, and wanting to stay within the paths that I’ve already learned because it’s simply easier than blazing new trails. Moving into the new house has complicated this because I want to be normal, but I have to rely solely on walking and public transit to get around. In general, Madrid’s public transportation is very good. I didn’t consider this too much when we chose a house in a suburb of Madrid, but living in this location has a profound affect on how I operate each day. I assumed that if you could get to a bus or a subway station, I was golden. For the past few days, I find myself spending a lot of time walking … and waiting.

(The upside of our house’s location is that the kids are less than 1km from school and should be able to walk everyday. That will be great for Jess and the kids.)

Today, I took note of the timing from my commute:

To work:

  • 7:14 Left the house. Walked the 1.36 km in 15 minutes.
  • 7:29 After buying my ticket and running down the escalator I just barely miss the Line 10 train to Tres Olivos. Next train is 6 minutes. Sit and wait.
  • 7:35 On the train and heading for Tres Olivos.
  • 7:47 At Tres Olivos, switch from MetroNorte train (Zone B1) to regular Metro train (Zone A). Wait for next train (3 min).
  • 7:51 Continue south towards Chamartin.
  • 7:59 At Chamartin, get off train and walk to Line 1. Next train 2 minutes.
  • 8:02 Board train towards Pinar de Chamartin.
  • 8:06 At Pinar de Chamartin, switch to Line 4. Next train 3 minutes.
  • 8:10 Board train towards San Lorenzo.
  • 8:19 At San Lorenzo, get off train and walk 1.07 km to the office.
  • 8:29 Arrive at the office.

To home:

  • 9:47pm Left office.
  • 9:57pm Arrived at San Lorenzo station. Purchase ticket.
  • 9:59pm Boarded train towards Pinar de Chamartin.
  • 10:07pm Arrive at Pinar de Chamartin and walk to Line 1. Next train in
  • 6 minutes.
  • 10:13pm Board train towards Chamartin.
  • 10:17pm Depart train and walk to Line 10.
  • 10:18pm Arrived at Line 10. Next train is in 5 minutes.
  • 10:23pm Boarded train towards Tres Olivos.
  • 10:30pm Switched trains to MetroNorte train towards Hospital Infanta Sofia.
  • 10:44pm Arrived at La Moraleja station. Walk home.
  • 11:01pm Arrived at home.

Total cost is 6 euros for my metro tickets and 2 hours and 29 minutes of my time. According to Google Maps, our house is 11.7 km from my office, so why not just drive? Well, at the moment, we are car-less.

As part of my contract, my company will arrange for a car for us, but they will not allow me to take possession of the car until I have a Spanish drivers license. Hmmm. As an American tourist, I can rent a car and legally drive in Spain. So I try again with HR.

  • How about using my Colorado drivers license? No
  • How about using my international drivers license? No
  • How about using my Chinese drivers license? :) No

Apparently they have had problems in the past with employees not getting a proper license. By Spanish law, you can only drive on your foreign license for 6 months after you obtain your residence permit. I applied for my residence permit on June 14, 2013, so my time is ticking. Also, I’ve been told that insurance won’t cover any accidents if you’re using the wrong type of license, and police can impound the car if they pick you up using the incorrect license. In all, it looks pretty unlikely that my company will give me a car without the Spanish license.

I see a lot of buses driving around, unfortunately I have not figured out the bus system yet although I have learned that La Moraleja runs a separate bus system from the rest of Madrid. Jess and the kids will have the same good/bad reliance on public transit until I can get my Spanish license. I’ve heard rumors about what I need to do to get my license, but I haven’t dug deep and found out the facts yet. However, I’ve heard it’s not trivial.

One upside of not having a car is that I am able to get through many, many podcasts. And my Fitbit step counter tells me I’m doing a good job. In fact, I’m averaging over 46 miles of walking per week.

Unfortunately, most of those miles are in my dress shoes and they look like they could use some love. I have a feeling they were not designed for such abuse.