Thinking about where and how to spend August, the traditional vacation month in France, begins even before the current vacation ends. A year or more in advance, families who can afford to travel start spending hours planning their trip. Budgeting for the vacation is an ongoing consideration throughout the year. And an apero party signaling the start of the vacation is an obligatory part of the ritual.
Settling on the Costa Brava Coast
Since I moved to France, I have vacationed with family in August in Scotland, Portugal, the Pyrenees, France, and Spain. This year, we decided to return to Spain—but not on the Atlantic side, where we went before. This time, we would visit Lloret de Mar on the Costa Brava, overlooking the Mediterranean.
Given the short distance from our home, the drive to Lloret usually takes a few hours. But heavy traffic made our car trip closer to eight hours, even though we left at what we thought would be a low-traffic time.
Our air-conditioned, three-bedroom, two-bath condo was located on the sixth floor, overlooking the beach. We passed a beautiful outdoor swimming pool on the way to the elevator.
Except for a few minor problems with the unit, the five of us settled in quickly: my son and his wife, their son, his girlfriend, and me.
The heat wave that had struck Europe, including Spain, was relentless. Seniors were advised to stay inside from 9:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. I was forced to heed the warning because the few times I tried outdoor activities (like spending the afternoon at the beach or visiting a nearby town), I quickly wilted and had to return to our cool apartment.
Looking ahead, I could see that everyone else would enjoy a daylong adventure in the giant-sized waterpark. However, I wouldn’t be able to take that much sun exposure. And everyone else would go to the beach for sunbathing and swimming. But not me. A half-hour in the sun, and I’d be fried.
Given this reality, I was smart enough to know that if I focused only on what I couldn’t do because of the sun, I’d wreck my vacation. Clearly, I needed to figure out what I could do.
I had a radical idea. What if I became fully and completely rested and restored? For a workaholic like me, this is the highest and most challenging goal I could set—to become rested by doing nothing. I was going to make psychologist Anne Wilson Schaef’s description my own: “Vacations mean a change of pace, a gentleness with ourselves, a time of rest and renewal.”
To start, I began by doing what the Spaniards have done for centuries. I revised my daily schedule to avoid the midday heat. Early mornings were for chores, walks on the seashore, and anything requiring exertion. Daytimes were for resting, reading a good book, playing cards, or sleeping. Dusk signaled the start of the day. The evening meal might be eaten around 10 p.m.
A late afternoon outing to the formal gardens of Santa Clotilde turned out to be a spectacular choice for rest and recovery. The lush green manicured landscaping was framed by blue water lapping on the nearby Costa Brava beaches.
Pathways lined with cypress trees, lime trees, and ivy-draped stonework with a view of an occasional fountain or small pond made the setting even more beautiful.
Another spectacular evening was spent in Tossa de Mar, a nearby walled medieval city. We shopped, ate ice cream, walked narrow streets, and treated our eyes and noses to the varied colors and aromas.
The walk along the beach was stunning. A few blocks in from the waterfront were dozens of shops, restaurants, bars—even a butchery with big hocks of ham hanging from the ceiling.
During the late afternoon hours, I managed to squeeze in several shopping sprees. Prices are significantly lower in Spain than in France, making it easy to find delightful bargains to add to my closet at home.
In the middle of one shopping trip, I stopped to take a picture of a mosaic-tiled church. The shops were on either side and across the street.
I found it curious that worldly goods (such as shops bulging with tourist items) mixed easily with other-worldly concerns, like one’s spiritual care. Maybe travelers stop and say a prayer that they will find a bargain, have a great vacation, and return home safely. Then they return to shopping.
It wasn’t until I was riding in the car on the way home to France that I realized I had achieved my goal. I was rested. And I liked the feeling so much, I resolved to stay rested. I would put my need to stay rested above my need “to do” or “to accomplish.” I would even rest before I was tired to make sure I didn’t get tired.
It’s easy, you say, to make promises to yourself. But would I keep my resolve? Or would it fade like the memories of our time in Spain?
So far, I have stuck to my resolve not only to stay rested but to eat more healthfully.
I love this quote from Dr. Abdul Kalam, a man who rose from humble beginnings to be the president of India. He said, “You cannot change your future, but you can change your habits, and surely your habits will change your future.”
On my Spanish vacation, I embraced a new way of living that, a month later, feels comfortable, as if I’m living in my new skin. If Dr. Kalam is right, the different decisions I’m making will change my future. What about your vacation? Did it change you?
Carole Carson invites you to share your reaction to this article. Also, if you would like a free copy of Carole’s fictional autobiographical novel “Blackbird,” stop by The Union office at 464 Sutton Way in Grass Valley.