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Published: August 14th 2008
by anna (and david) We've just had a little jaunt north.
For the 4th public holiday since we've been in Spain (they LOVE them here!) we used the opportunity to head over to
Ireland to visit Kev, Mary, Ben and George. Kev and Mary were very organised with Mary's mum ready to baby sit, and took us out for drinks at the swanky Shelbourne Hotel before heading to a great Thai restaurant - soooo good to have some spicy asian after what seems like ages!!!
We were blessed with gorgeous weather for the rest of the weekend which we spent fairly lazily, grabbing some hot chips to feed the hangovers, and eating them while watching a game of cricket at Trinity College on the Saturday, then enjoying the sun in Kev and Mary's backyard on the Sunday
(not to mention finding a local on Saturday morning to watch the Wallabies beat the All Blacks. Excellent to finish the weekend with a tasty bbq in the backyard too - it’s been a while).
We were there Monday as well and spent the day true to form, visiting the
Irish National Stud, not far out of Dublin, and the
Guinness Brewery. The former was like a big park / picnic ground really, with a few horses and lots of old people there for a day out, scones and all. It was well done though, beautiful grounds, and a pretty good museum. It was cool to see the Melbourne Cup winner Vintage Crop up close too!
(as well as Celtic Swing - Takeover Target's dad. The main stallions were on duties in the Southern Hemisphere) The
Guinness Storehouse, as it calls its display centre, was massive, and MUCH changed since we'd both been there independently 10 years ago! and very impressive. It includes about five floors, at least 3 of which were great, explaining the brewing process and showing old Guinness ads, etc, and ends with a 'gravity bar' with an awesome 360 degree view of Dublin (when I was there last, it ended with a beer in a basement without windows, or much character. Guess that's what becoming part of the Diageo marketing machine does!) -
(good to see they still have the tasty pint of Guinness as a reward at the end of the tour) We flew back into Spain, from one country that officially speaks
The Guggesnheim Bilbao
Sensational architecture outside and in!the same language, but is definitely different (I forgot how much you have to concentrate to understand some of the Irish!), to the Basque country, officially part of Spain but determined to be totally different. Our first stop was
Bilbao, one of the major centres in the Basque country, and home to one of the Guggenheim Museums. Awesome! The region is known for its fancy pants tapas - called pintxos - so we headed straight out to get amongst these tasty morsels.
Well, almost straight out. I blame the town map, which labelled the plaza we were searching for on a street next to it, which meant we ended up up a hill above the city. It was a great view, and we got to watch "Hiru oholtzar" involving a group of mostly older men throwing a heavy metal ball at a set of pins, resembling something like skittles. Without knowing the rules, it looked like an ancient chest beating ritual. Now having read the rules, I'm not convinced otherwise. The Basques have a lot of "sports" designed to show strength, usually based on rural activities. I was sorry we didn't have the camera to capture the spectacle
(looked like a good excuse to have a few drinks with the boys to me).
When we made it back down the hill, this time paying 0.35 euros for the elevator, we eventually got our pintxos in the main square of the old town: a goats cheese concoction, another with camembert, una croqueta spinaca (spinach croquette) and, the best of all, morcilla con tortilla (blood sausage wrapped in tortilla). All washed down with a yummy rioja crianza. Not quite full, we were lured into another bar, Cafe Iruna, in the newer part of town by delicious smelling satays. Not a bad start for Bilbao.
The Guggenheim, or El Goog, as apparently the Bilbaons call it, was awesome. I am soooo impressed with how it was built to be a part of the city (it goes under the main bridge into town for example) and its glass, limestone and titanium construction. I loved it all. We spent about 3-4 hours exploring the exhibitions - including a floor dedicated to the surrealists, my absolute favourite genre. Again, I am in the right country given this is the land of Dali and Miro among many others. We had little energy for much
The beach at San Sebastian ...
... looked over by what we assumed was a statue of the saint more that day.
We took the coast road to San Sebastian, enjoying the scenery, if not the narrow roads full of crazy drivers. We tried stopping a couple of times for lunch but it was a public holiday in the region (another one) and places near the beaches were packed. There wasn't even room to think about stopping in the quaint sounding fishing village where we intended to eat. It was full of people watching, or competing in, a sea boat regatta.
We ended up having a great lunch in Ondara, if, like all menu del dias, too much food, and had a brief walk around the town. It was enough to see the surfeit of graffiti and other protest signs about town, calling for Basque independence, and or an Amnesty, I assumed for members of ETA.
Next stop,
San Sebastian. Now this was the town of pintxos! We spent a couple of days here, eating and lazing about either on the beach, or with a jug of sangria at a bar right on the edge of the beach (without the prices expected of such a place). I'm a massive fan!
(San Sebastian certainly deserves its great Work? What's that?
David enjoying the life he has become accustomed to reputation - great place to kick back and the Atlantic wasn't cold at all)
Having a few communication skills in Spanish helped us make friends as well and we bonded with a barman over jokes at the expense of a completely drunk, and somewhat embarrassing (for a fellow antipodean), kiwi guy. The barman loved to chat, telling us how he had won the lottery and had houses around the world (not sure if we believed this one), had barracked for Cadel Evans in the Tour de France because he didn't want the (non-Basque) Spaniard, Carlos Sastre, to win (definitely believed this one - we laughed and didn't ask any questions!) and, that, apparently, there is a Basque community in Sydney, well, when we got down to it, 80km out of Sydney somewhere that we couldn't quite pin down.
We left San Sebastian as they warmed up to receive a cycling tour coming into town. Sastre didn't win this race, but Valverde, another non-Basque Spaniard, did. I wondered how the Basque crowd received him?
Given we were in the vicinity, we took a quick detour into France to check out Biarritz, and see what all the fuss is
David getting amongst the action ...
... well as much as possible 2 weeks after San Fermin about. We understood when we saw the beach. Having not seen a proper surf beach for some time (the one is San Sebastian wasn't much to write about), we were very impressed, and kind of understood. Being the first weekend in August, it was, however, packed. So, having seen, we left.
We eventually found our great pension in
Pamplona and spent the night and next day enjoying more pintxos, and revelling in the sights that felt familiar from years of TV footage of the running of the bulls, and having both recently read Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" (thanks Rich!). San Fermin may be a famous saint in this town, but I think the idolatry for Hemingway, who worked the miracle of making this otherwise undifferentiated Spanish town famous, turning it into a commercial success, might just outweigh that for the Spanish martyr. Effigies and honours (in the form of photos, statues, bars, and of course walking tours) of the man are around every corner.
We walked the bull run and a little more around the town until the dry, 35 degree heat got the better of us. We escaped into a shop to buy ourselves a traditional
leather wine skin. Conscious of our luggage restrictions, we have bought few souvenirs. We can see ourselves enjoying this one though. Overall, we loved Pamplona. The whole place had a sensational feel to it.
We arrived by train back into Madrid late Sunday night, to find our city in a summer siesta. Every second bar, restaurant and boutique shop is closed for "vacaciones" or simply "agosto". The place has a quiet relaxed feel to it. It's nice to be home.
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Erin
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SB
Love San - so jealous. You look like you're having such an amazing time. xx