A Little Touch Of Paradise

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And To Think I Wasn’t Going To Come Here!!

Leaving Bordeaux and France behind, I didn’t want to spend 13 hours straight on a train to Madrid, even though it seems strange to say that after doing the Trans-Siberian. The decision came when I recognised the name of a little town on the North coast of Spain, San Sebastian. Not knowing a lot about the place, I had only booked in for two nights before having to move on to the capital, but on arrival I wish I had booked for longer. With pristine beaches (both inside the bay for swimming and facing the ocean for surfing), an old town centre, a hill overlooking the whole lot with a statue of Christ at the summit (and everyone knows what I’m like when I see a hill and feel the need to climb it), fantastic Spanish food from paella to pintxos (the Basque version of tapas), and to top it all off… a jazz festival starting on the day I arrived, with free concerts on the beach at night.

Checking into the hostel (which incidentally was one street from the surfing beach), I met a few others and headed straight for the beach. The Spanish way of life is a very relaxed one and one I could definitely get used to. Siestas actually happen!! At about midday everyday, everyone shuts up their shops and heads to the beach, not to reopen until about 5pm. It’s a hell of a way to pass an afternoon but the secret is to be prepared for it and make sure you have everything you need before midday.

So… I’m down at the beach, trying to keep sand out of every crevasse (once again, my distaste for sandy beaches is well documented), and I encounter my first experience with Mediterranean sunbathing. People are a lot more liberal over here and tan lines are obviously the work of the devil, so I find an interesting patch of sky on the horizon to stare at because the last thing I want on my first day in Spain is to be accused of being a pervert. With this kind of liberation comes both the good and the bad though. All types, all sexes and all ages participate freely, making the it almost like a museum of the human body through life.

With the sun dropping (now at nearly a normal time of 9.30pm), I team up with two Americans and two Brazilians who have been there for a couple of days and sussed out a good place to eat. Oh My God!!! My first experience with paella is from a little café not far from the hostel. Seafood, rice, spices, vegetables, Amazing!!! Washed down with a couple of cerveses and I find another reason to love Spain… the price. Food, 6 drinks each and a shot of something highly alcoholic from the café owner, who was a good bloke and intent on showing us how famous his café was (illustrated by pictures of him with footballers and even William Dafoe), and the whole bill for the five of us….90 Euros. 18 Euros each!! Definitely going to like Spain!!

From there we were back to the beach for the concert which starts at midnight and goes until about 3am. That’s one thing I’ve noticed… nightlife doesn’t even begin until very late, usually after 1am, but carries on until about 8am the next morning!! Anyway… sitting on the beach, having a few drinks and listening to some Spanish band rock on in the early morning was a brilliant way to kick Spain off.

The next morning I was up early because it’s damn hot here by midday and I wanted to tackle that hill. Previously a fortified military post with battlements and canon mountings dotting the seaward side and even a few that pointed into the bay, now the summit is crowned by a statue of Jesus looking down on the town and it’s people. Winding my way down the other side of it, I stop passed the Old Town with it’s churches and fountains appearing as if by magic as I weave my way through the narrow cobbles streets. This is where I get another good surprise. Stopping in at a bar for a quick refreshment, I discover pintxos!! Little plates of food ranging from olives and salted sardines to things similar to toasted sandwiches and bruschetta. Even better is that when you buy a drink, you get a plate for free!!! So after four drinks and a full belly I shell out 5 Euro (that’s right!!! 5 Euros!!!) and head down to the swimming beaches to see if there was anything happening there for the night. Seemingly, the place to be is back at the surfing beach, so I successfully manage to do as the Spanish do and while away an afternoon with drink in hand and sun in eyes.

Not bothering with the concert this night as my train leaves early the next morning, I hang around the hostel making new friends with people from every corner of the globe and trying to get my mind out of speaking French and into speaking Spanish.

"Bear in mind that the special advantage of vagabonding is the experience of not really knowing what happens next, which you can obtain at bargain rates in all cases....The challenges you face offer no alternative but to cope with them. And in doing that, your life is being fully lived." - Ed Buryn

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