Arriving home to find Spanish treasure ~

I am still waking up disoriented but dreaming in English once again.  My trip to Spain was all and more that I expected it to be.  I smelled the Mediterranean, felt its water rise to my knees, picked up rocks from the seashore to stuff into a bag and tried to avoid all of those topless women....  Ah, the lure and fascination of the Costa del Sol still warms my mind.  The photos (about 1000) bring it all back to me in an instant.  The unbridled aroma of steaming paella, various tapas, green Spanish olives, chunks of bread dunked in olive oil, a glass of rioja wine.... flamenco music or a Spanish guitar reminding me there was no rush.  Memories will always be close to the surface.  There are too many to count but each day I will tick them off and smile some more.

And the genealogy quest?  My mind was always in high gear except when I lay on the hamaca or my new Spanish towel on the beaches of Nerja, Torremolinos and Marbella (photo above).  With sand at my feet and between my toes, the ocean sloshing before me, my mind was set on pause and I kept it there until we were on the road once again.

In northern Spain in the province of Zamora, I found gravestones for the Hernandez Martin family.  And the four villages of the Silvan, Trascasas, Marzo, Alonso and Alejo families (an amazing feeling to see the houses, the streets, the Spanish signs and know their feet touched that same soil).  Toro, the village atop the mountain holds my heart the strongest... along with Avila, Almogia, and Alora.  Sevilla, Madrid and Malaga were such big cities, I felt lost and wanted to get back to the tiny, narrow streets I'd left behind in the small villages.

While in Toro, you may remember there was a man at the Juzgado (aka courthouse) who promised to look further in the ancient document books for any mention of Eustoquia Rita Trascasas Marzo, my abuelita's mother.  He promised to send me any document he found. I left with faith and Spanish hope ~  When I returned home Monday night, my heart tripped a flamenco;  his envelope waited.  I was shaking when I tried to open it and delighted with the beautiful documents within:  A marriage document for bisabuela Rita's parents: Manuel Trascasas Alonso and Manuela Marzo Garcia.  AND there was more!  OMG, inside the envelope I found the birth record for bisabuela Rita's sister;  a sister I did not know existed:  Jacinta Modesta Trascasas Marzo.  How much excitement can I live through?!

I found a contact near Avila who may be able to contact two Toro residents; one Marzo and one Trascasas -- could they be related?  And she may also contact the Silvan "cousin" from Ponferrado. 

I was full of quietude after meeting our Ruiz cousins in the south of Spain and being embraced by friends who met me for the first time.  Lovely cousins that I hope to stay connected to.  And these welcoming friends, Pepe and Pepa, who gave us an apartment to live in while we were in the south of Spain, a country retreat...

I felt no rush in Spain.  I intend to retain the feelings now that I'm home once again.  My cup runneth over.  As my brother, Steven, taught me to say when life is good?  Vale, vale. (pronounced ball-ay, ball-ay)  All is perfect!