An Ivy League of My Own: By the Waters of San Sebastian

2012 was arguably the best year of my life.

The Giants won the Super Bowl. I went to the Grammys (along with several other award shows). I booked one of my dream jobs. I traveled all over the world. I fell in love.

It was a remarkable year, filled with unexpected blessings.

In May of that year, I boarded a plane to Europe, not even beginning to imagine what extraordinary adventures lay before me. Luckily, I documented most of them in a tiny journal that I bought at quaint little bookshop in Paris.

The other day, while cleaning out some old suitcases, I found that old travel journal. And when I started to look through it, I sat there with a smile on my face, remembering every euphoric feeling that passed through me that summer.

There are a thousand and one incredible moments from that trip (and of course, a few not so good ones too). But there was one story in particular from that trip, which will always hold a special place in my heart. And it was, of course, due to an unexpected turn of events that led to some of the most memorable 48 hours of my life.

And of course, it all started with a little divine intervention.

I had been staying in Naples with a friend and was trying to figure out where to go next. I had a few days to kill before I had to be back in Madrid, so I thought I would head up to Berlin to visit a friend of mine from NYC. But for some reason, I was unsuccessful in booking the flight to Germany. After the third attempt, I decided to just wait until the next day to try again. Well wouldn't you know, the next morning, I received an email from my friend telling me that she wouldn't be able to meet up after all. So since Germany was out, I tried to decide where I wanted to go next. While I was in Barcelona, I had met a nice old man on a train who suggested that I eventually check out San Sebastian on the northern coast of Spain.

That sounded as good of a place to go to as any.

Up to this point on the trip, I had been extremely busy. I was working constantly, and the all night partying was starting to take its toll on my body. I needed a break. So I figured that a few days relaxing in the sun would be just what I needed.

Besides, I loved Spain; I spoke the language, enjoyed the food, and appreciated the culture. So the next thing I knew, I hopped a plane back to Madrid from Naples, and was walking over to the bus station to see when the next bus to San Sebastian was leaving.

As luck would have it, there was a bus leaving Madrid in about a half an hour. I hadn't anticipated that. I had expected to travel throughout the night, which would eliminate the need for accommodations. I know people in almost every corner of the world.. but I didn't know a soul in San Sebastian. I was flying blind. Very blind.

But never one to turn down some good fortune, I jumped on the bus and off I went. Besides, I had six hours on the bus to figure out where I would be staying that night in San Sebastian.

The first hostel that showed up on google was a place called Olga's Place.

That sounded nothing Spanish. But the address was Calle de Zabaleta 21. That to me was a sign, so I booked my room about one hour before we got to San Sebastian. Then I sat back in my seat, watched "Street Dance2" dubbed in Spanish, and started to dream about the Sangria I would be drinking as soon as I reached my destination.....

Two days later, I sat on the rocks of the beautiful cliffs of San Sebastian, overlooking the sea and feeling extraordinarily moved. And I recalled the events of the previous 48 hours.. Here are my words from that day:

June 19, 2012

What an incredible world we live in. I don't know why things happen the way they do… but I will never again question them. I am always so humbled by how certain people come into our lives at such calculated times for the most enigmatic reasons... It's truly remarkable.

Right now, I can't stop smiling. I am writing this from the jetty about to witness a spectacular thunderstorm, and where so much has happened in the past two days. I am watching the ocean and feeling overwhelmingly grateful.

When I arrived to San Sebastian, I never thought I would feel so alive here. Spain is electric; It's a place where they celebrate passion... They also revere music, food, wine, and dance (especially how the human body moves).

It's my kind of place.

And I couldn't wait to come back here.

But when I first got to the hostel, I was exhausted. The front desk had messed up my room assignment so they stuck me in the only other room that was available. I didn't even care at that point. I knew I needed some sleep, so since it was only about 10 pm, I figured that I would take a little disco nap then wake up around 1am to go hit the salsa club down the street. I mean, Spain doesn't get started until 2 am anyway, right?

So I set my alarm for 1 am, and hit the sheets. When I awoke, I opened my eyes to see a man in the bed across from me, looking at me with big blue green eyes. I jumped up, confused. When I looked at my phone, it read 8 am.

What?? I had completely overslept.

He spoke to me in broken Spanish.

I groggily answered in Italian, having just come from Naples 12 hours earlier.

The whole thing was so confusing. Apparently, when he had come in the night earlier, I woke up (though I don't remember it) and snapped at him in Spanish. I laughed and asked if he spoke English. He did.

We started with the usual, "What's your name," "Where are you from", etc. His name was Bernard and he was from South Africa. He was very handsome; tall, with blonde hair and blue green eyes. He had a darling little South African accent. So when I asked him what he was doing that day, he told me that he was planning on going surfing (which SS is apparently known for).

I told him that I had never been surfing before, and he offered to let me join him. I said yes, and off we went.

This was the first day in my life that I had ever surfed. And it was the most physically demanding thing I have ever done. It was so damn difficult!

But it was so fun. He tried to teach me, but I wasn't very good at getting out past the breakers. My arms are apparently very weak, and although I did get up a few times and held onto my balance (thanks to 20 years of dance training), I couldn't get out far enough to hit the really big waves. But it was so much fun trying. And it was REALLY fun riding the board into the beach... (boogie board style of course).

After we got back to the beach, we sat around and talked for awhile. When we got hot, we swam, when we got hungry, we ate. We ended up finding a cute little tapas bar to grab lunch. He had never eaten tapas or drank sangria before (two of my favorites) so we got a pitcher and had a great chat. He told me about Capetown and engineering, and I told him about LA and dance. We got a little drunk and decided to go back to the beach for the afternoon, sleep off the buzz, and check out a different side of the peninsula. We swam in the ocean, basked in the sun, and got to know each other.

We ended up having such a great afternoon. I had no idea that we would end up spending the whole day together. As the afternoon turned to the early evening, he told me that the only thing that would make the day better was if we got a bottle of wine and watched the sunset.

I couldn't agree more.

But as we discovered there are no "liquor stores" in San Sebastain. So we walked into a bar and using my Spanish, I was able to talk the bartender into selling us a bottle of wine (which he did, and even threw in some cups and opened the damn thing for us). We took our bottle and walked along the coast all the way to the end of the peninsula, along with a ton of other people. We were all ready for the sunset.

But, as we learned, in Spain, the sun sets much much later, and we had a lot of time left before its grand exit. So we decided to use the time wisely, walk around some more, and find the perfect quiet spot to watch the sunset.

While wandering around, we discovered a hidden little path that ended up leading us up to a mountain. We ended up finding the most amazing spot... There was even a little patio, like a dance floor, overlooking the sea. Because we had reached the top, we were able to see 360 degrees around, from the coasts of the beach to the horizon of the ocean. We sat on the the ledge, and just talked and talked. About both everything and nothing.

We had talked about maybe going salsa dancing that night - the San Sebastian clubs were legit and I was anxious to get my body on the dance floor. He told me that he had never salsa danced before, but he really wanted to learn. So I, understanding that there was no time like the present, said to him, "let's have a lesson now."

And right there at the top of a mountain, overlooking the sea and golden sunset, we had our first salsa lesson together. It was so fun, dancing under the setting sun with the silver ocean in the background. I showed him a bunch of steps, and we just danced along to my iPod music until we realized that we had almost missed the sunset.

As it went down, we went back to our ledge, finished the bottle of wine, and sat there watching the golden rays reflect across the sky and the sea.

It was ridiculously romantic. He looked at me, I looked at him....

Nothing happened.

… the sunset, the wine, the cliffs, the dancing….

What the hell?

I couldn't understand it. That was the perfect moment for him to make a move.

I had thought about being bold, but it just didn't feel right. So I didn't. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, watching the sky change shades, then decided to leave to go back, get changed, grab some dinner and then head out to the salsa club.

That night, I wore my favorite black salsa dress with my favorite dancing shoes that had been worn down to the nubs from all the dancing I had been doing on the trip. And off we went.

It was around midnight. When we left, the wind had really picked up. It was so windy, in fact, that I could barely stand up straight against it. A storm was coming.

Since all the restaurants were closed by the time we got out, we ended up finding an Irish pub that served "American food" and of course Jameson.

Jameson: My secret weapon.

We did a few shots. He drank a Heineken. I drank cheap proseco.

We played the question game. And I found out a lot about my friend Bernard.

We talked for what felt like hours.

We ended up closing down the bar but decided that we didn't want the night to end. So instead of heading to the salsa club, we opted to take a stroll on the beach. The wind was still blowing hard and the clouds had rolled in; it looked like the sky would give us a spectacular light show. But right before we reached the beach, my poor, old, faithful shoe finally bit the big one; my heel cracked right in half. So I walked along the sand, sans shoes.

We just walked in silence, listening to the sound of the wind and waves crashing. The rain started to fall softly.

Suddenly, he tripped over what looked like a flip flop. We looked down - there sitting on the sand were two flip flops, Havaianas, looking brand spanking new.

And so like Prince Charming, he bent over, grabbed one of the flip flops and slid the glass slipper - er I mean rubber sandal on my foot… I felt like Cinderella.

No joke - It fit perfectly.

The rain began to fall harder. I started to joke to him about being my Prince Charming.

It was that moment that he stood up, took my head in his hands, and kissed me.

And there we were. On the beach of Saint Sebastian…. rain pouring down, waves crashing, wind blowing, and me with my one flip-flop on my foot, being kissed by Prince Charming.

The whole thing was so romantic.

A real Disney moment.

We never did go salsa dancing - We stayed out on that beach for a long time. He held me in his arms while we watched the storm and talked about life.

It was one of those nights I never wanted to end.

Bernard came into my life at a time when I really needed it. Before I left LA, I had experienced some rocky times; a of a heartbreak and had been starting to lose my faith in kind men and romance.. I was was truly becoming cynical and jaded. But Bernard reminded me that romance does exist... you just have to be patient - it can't be rushed... and it's always worth the wait.

The next morning, he was gone and off to his new destination. But he left me a very sweet note that I will carry with me in my wallet from now on...

And every time I look at it, it will remind me that when we first make a decision, we are really diving into a strong current that will carry us to places we had never dreamed of when we first made the decision... even if that decision was the result of a last minute change of plans.

But the story didn't end there…. Not 12 hours later, I had another extraordinary encounter.

Since it is my last night in Spain, I decided to get one last gelato. I grabbed some and ended up walking toward the sea, just reflecting on the last 24 hours, and enjoying the beauty here before I have to leave.

I suddenly noticed an old man standing about ten feet away from me. When I looked at him, he spoke in Spanish and it seemed that he wanted to talk.

He walked over and asked me my name.

I told him.

He then asked me what I thought was important about life.

What a strange question...

I thought about it for a moment, then answered: "Amor, familia, y amigos" (Love, family, and friends.)

He nodded and then added his own thoughts. He told me that it was important to take pride in your work. He was a carpenter who grew up on the island across from the jetty, and he loved what he did.

But he also told me that while work is important, it's also to remember to have faith.

Looking back, the whole thing felt very surreal. He seemed to come out of nowhere, and sometimes he spoke as if I really wasn't there. I never felt in danger or anything, but it just felt... surreal.

But my parents always taught me to be respectful to old people, so not wanting to be rude,we continued to talk for a few more minutes. My gelato had completely melted. When I decided that the time had come for me to go, I started to say goodbye to him.

As I started to walk away, he quickly grabbed my hand and looked me dead in the eyes. He told me to remember that life was short and that it was so important to keep in mind what is really important… yes, family, friends, and love were all important things, but faith, above all else, was essential to our existence.

He also told me to never forget to look for the beautify in the world. That it was abundant and always around us… even if we didn't think we could see any. He made me promise to always search for the beauty in things, and to always have faith.

I promised I would. But before I walked away, I asked him his name.

His name was Santiago.

We said goodbye and I left.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, when I was walking over the same bridge that brought me to San Sebastian in the first place, that I realized something.... I instantly made the connection.

Santiago was my favorite character in my favorite book… a story about a journey… and adventure... and faith. A book that is sitting on my bed at the hostel as I write this…. The Alchemist.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked up at the sky, closed my eyes, and instantly felt flooded with faith.

I once again became a believer.

I think there is a fine line between fate and self determination... Who knows, maybe we all have a certain destination that we're meant to reach, but we are able to choose the path to get there... All I know is that most of the choices I've made have led me to places I never thought I would end up in when I first made those choices. And on many occasions, I've tried very unsuccessfully to force square pegs into round holes.

I guess it comes down to this: You can't force things. You just have to let them happen. You have to make your choices, and hope for the best. And it always works out… it truly does. You just have to be patient, and open to the possibility that anything can happen.. things might not work out the way you expected them to, but that's not always a bad thing.

I was never supposed to go to San Sebastien, I was supposed to go to Berlin. I was never supposed to be in the room I ended up being in, but then I met Bernard. I was never supposed to be wandering around on my own the night I went to the Jetty; I had plans with some friends but decided to get gelato at the last minute...

It's funny how one detour can change the entire course.

I don't know if I will ever see Bernard again… and I am sure I will never see Santiago again, but they were there… they existed, and they each left a handprint on my heart.

I guess there really is truth to how the stars align, how timing is everything, and how things really do always work out. And maybe thats the real secret…

Maktub. Está escrito. It is written.