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Published: August 26th 2005
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Guggenheim with feet Maybe not the most visited city in Spain, but definitely not to be missed. Bilbao is the new kid on the block, and has some very nice surprises in store.
We picked up a quick Easyjet flight and in no time we were over the Pyrenees, through the modernist airport and into the Centre of the city. This is 'Green Spain', but the city has all the feel of the South, including the lunchtime Siestas, and the people are totally welcoming and friendly.
The airport bus dropped us straight into the Gran Via, and from there it's a short walk to the Casco Viejo, which is very like Barcelona's Barri Gothic. The ever useful 'rough guide' turned up a few cheap hotels for us, all close to each other. Ours was a bit dustier than most and right next to the church of San Nicholas. The bed was very concave, and we tended to fall on top of each other and wriggle about in the night (that's all I'm saying on that subject!)
With church bells chiming on the quarter hour the room was a bit jangly, but thankfully they ended at midnight. We all know that impecunious
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Doggie at night travellers can't be choosers, and the place was dirt cheap and safe enough, so we settled in. We had a nice balcony overlooking the square where we could watch the young locals getting up to some unmentionable activities after dark.
Unlike on the the med, the temperature drops a little at night, but the days are definitely Spanish, and hot. Bilbao is in a river valley, surrounded by hills, and this makes it feel intimate, kind of homely. From the Casco Viejo there are bars, restaurants and clubs in every direction, and the place feels nice and edgy, with not too many tourists at all. Style is kind of 'retro boho' with lots of 50s collector's shops and vinyl record shops and stuff. The whole place is more down and dirty than the South or even Barcelona.
A must see is the streets behind the San Francisco area, which is widely ethnic and buzzy. Like in other cities, this neighbourhood is a combination of terminally run down and trendy modern, and we found a minimalist restaurant which would have graced London's Soho, except that we were the only diners in there! Music was progressive jazz - techno and
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Very strange window display acid, and the food and wine were good. I sadly mused that this brave enterprise might be ahead of its time. That's always the problem with cutting edge.
Getting around Bilbao is dead easy, with a little tram system which runs along the river and up to the Guggenheim - the reason for most people's visits to Bilbao these days. I loved the tram, and found myself sitting behind a guy with green hair and an orange beard, a startling but strangely effective combination.
But what to say about the Guggenheim? My feeling is that Gehry's masterpiece is a bit of a gothic conceit, all high spaces, fancy materials and atmosphere, but not much good for hanging art. The city gallery, Museo de Bellas Artes, is a vastly superior space for the art lover, built in clean international style and flooded with ambient light. The art is mainly Spanish, both early and modern and there is some good stuff by Zurbaran, well worth the visit for that alone.
Reminiscent of the hills above Barcelona is Bilbao's Funiculer de Artxanda, which quickly whisked us up to a hilltop overlooking the city and the mountains beyond. I started thinking
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Laser nights about hire cars and mountain driving, but time and money were short. However, we made an excellent trip out of the city by metro. The little train suddenly bursts into the sunlight and then
winds it's way through fields and farms to the coast beyond Getxo. The sight of the wind whipping wave tops in the Bay of Biscay is a reminder that we are still facing the Atlantic in this part of Spain. The sea is green/blue, not the deep blue of the med.
Our very best meal was a cheap one, a huge steak in cheap caff in Casco Viejo, covered in a mysterious sauce and accompanied by a bottle of headblasting wine. Bliss.
Final thoughts? We have covered a lot of ground in Spain, and the best bits have been in the 'minor key' so to speak - The casino in Murcia, where aged misogynists sleep the day away safe from their wives and familes, or the hill town of Alcoy, which has only one bar (no tourists there then) and finally Bilbao - still the place that it was, but changing very rapidly.
There's no time like the present.
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