How American are we? On this, the last evening of our big Spanish trip, the first time either of us have been to this nation, we ate out at Taco Bell¹.

Feeding ourselves has actually turned out to be something of a challenge this trip; certainly more than we'd expected. Here in Valencia it's fine, of course, but we spent the first five days in Cullera, a little beach town a bit farther south. Officially, the tourism season isn't quite open yet, but it begins in about a week and the weather forecast was good so we figured we'd be fine.

It turns out that in little tourist towns like Cullera, if you're going to visit out of season, you should stay in the old town. Yes, all the hotels with the nice websites and the good deals and the beachfront views are in the touristy section, and yes, the touristy section does have a wide variety of restaurants and little shops sufficient to keep you eating in style during your stay. Here's the thing: of those shops and restaurants, maybe 1 in 20 is open out of season. There were literally three restaurants available for us there, and one was Burger King.

Christina and I have always traveled well together, though, and this isn't the first time we've been stranded in a touristy food desert². This whole thing is really about giving us some time to be ourselves as individuals, as a couple, as a pair. After all, pretty soon, we're going to have to learn to ask for more than two seats at the restaurants we visit.

Olive is making her presence known to us, in good ways and irritating ones. She occasionally starts pedaling her legs, or that's what it feels like, just a continuous stroking motion in one direction for a few seconds. She does this strongly enough that I can feel it on my back, when Christina and I are cuddling at night. This, of course, is one of the former ways. Of the latter, I suppose I should just say that Christina doesn't really need Taco Bell to get heartburn these days, and she's very often troubled by a wide assortment of aches. The third trimester has just begun, but it looks like we're going to be really ready for Olive to arrive once it's over.

The thing is, you wouldn't know this, just watching Christina in action. She still soldiers on, climbing mountains to see the castles and radar sites and ruins on the top; she still walks for hours per day, and thinks that seeing one museum and a national park in a day of tourism is good for a relax day, but a bit unambitious. The way she approaches this pregnancy makes me really proud, just because despite all the aches, she really doesn't complain; she moves on with a smile on her face. I have no idea how I'd handle it, if our roles in this marriage were reversed, but I can only hope that I'd do so with as much grace.

This vacation marks the conclusion of a number of delays, things we've known for some time needed to be sorted out, but which we didn't want to deal with yet. We have to finally pick which of the two hospitals we're going to use for the birth; we're going to write the birth plan; we're going to make a prenatal pediatrician appointment; we're going to start setting up furniture. One thing that isn't on this list is to pick a car; by pushing hard, we got that sorted out and taken care of the day before we left. It's not ready for us quite yet, but we should be able to pick it up in about a month. This is both good news and bad: it's taken care of, we got a really good deal, and I think it's going to be a great car³. On the other hand, my parents have very generously subsidized it, and I'd wanted to show it to them when they come to visit, but it's not going to be ready in time.

Still, that's a pretty minor hiccup in the larger scheme of things. Overall, I'd say that we're in a good place preparing for Olive's arrival. The worst part now is just the wait.