To Hector

I had all kinds of ideas for the topic of my first post. Everything from the origins of King’s Day as it is celebrated on the Iberian Peninsula to the phenomenon of Spain’s Christmas Lottery. In the end though, I really just want to share what’s on my mind.

For those that don’t know, Hector was my father-in-law. Hector loved Spain. (Not every Spaniard loves Spain. It’s complicated.) Of course, it’s good that he loved Spain because he was terrified of flying and I think he only left the Iberian Peninsula once in his entire life. I have vivid memories of my first visit to Madrid in 1986, sitting with him at the dining room table as he took me on a tour of his extensive Iberian postcard collection. I didn’t really speak any Spanish at the time, so he thought the best way of communicating was by speaking slowly and really, really loud. I’m told it was quite comical.

Over the decades Hector took me to visit a lot of the places on those postcards. I won’t recount all of our adventures here, but as I continue to write this blog over the coming months and years, you will read more than a few accounts of our journeys. I’m not sure which one of us was Don Quixote and which was Sancho Panza, but I know that his old Volkswagen station wagon was our Rocinante.

Hector didn’t waste any time. He would pick me up at the airport with his suitcase already in the back seat. The first stop was always for chocolate con churros. (Think of that as Spain’s version of Krispy Kreme…..only better.) Then we were off to whatever corner of the Peninsula he had on his mind. Truth be told, he really didn’t like sitting still. On holidays with the family, he was always physically present, but I think in his mind he was on his way to somewhere.

My last trip with him was to Santander. His health was starting to fail and to be honest, I was a bit hesitant to enable his travel habit. In the end though, I’m so glad we went. Our friend and guide Luis made it a trip to remember. Even after Hector went into hospice earlier this year, all he could talk about was taking another trip. He found a small village on the map near Burgos that he had never visited, and I’m happy to say that my brother-in-law snuck him out on a Saturday a few weeks before he passed away and they made the journey up to put a final pin in the map, and perhaps to buy a postcard.

Many of you reading this knew Hector personally, and I know that you have fond memories. It’s so hard arriving to Spain and not seeing him waiting for me as I exit customs. I am building this business for many reasons, but in many ways it is my thank you letter to Hector.