San Sebastián (Donostia) and Fuenterrabía (Hondarribia) in the Winter?

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From my first impression of San Sebastián (Donostia in Basque)—my walk from the Amara train station to my hostel—I was in awe. The streets nearby felt like a “Hapsburg” style, a similar design to my memories of Vienna, the Czech Republic, and Trieste. This isn’t normally a style that I love outright, and it was surprising to see it in Spain, because I don’t remember seeing it anywhere else here. Streets are lined with regal 4-ish story stone buildings that share walls. Many have tiny window ‘balconies’. However, in contrast to other places I’ve been with this style, the streets were wide enough that I didn’t feel claustrophic among them. The city being so close to the sea and the river also made it feel more open, less like the buildings imposed on the street. As I’m writing this, I see that a queen regent of Spain (Maria Christina) was a Hapsburg, and she moved the throne to the city in 1885, which probably accounts for a lot of the city’s architecture.



Part of my walk was also along the Urumea River. The relatively small river has paths along both sides, and the level of the city is close to the level of the water. Strolling along it felt like strolling a stream in a park, except that it was bordered with grand buildings.



My first afternoon in San Sebastián, I went almost directly to the San Telmo Museum because I knew it was free on Tuesdays. It’s a museum about Basque history and culture. I’m glad I went when it was free because although it was interesting, I don’t know if for me it would have been worth paying admission. It was a bit like the Heinz History Museum, which is captivating for Pittsburghers, but maybe slightly boring for non-Pittsburghers. The museum’s newer, outer building design is distinct. The outside is cement but with seemingly random small holes poked in it, which allows a place for plants to grow.



It was a struggle for me not to compare San Sebastián with La Coruña. Both are on Spain’s north coast and their centers are on peninsulas which jut into the sea. Both have beaches right in the city and a similar flat center, but with hills at the ends of the peninsulas. I found San Sebastián, though, to have a better tourist infrastructure, and more than that, more of a reason for tourists to come.



In the evening, I took a stroll near the town hall (ayuntamiento). Because it was winter holiday time, there were fairy lights around the city. The lights reflected off the river beautifully, but I was also impressed by the beauty of the illuminated ayuntamiento with a small amusement park nearby. The merry-go-round reminded me of Kennywood, of a bygone era. Walking around that evening was magical.



The next day, I took a bus to Fuenterrabía (Hondarribia in Basque). It was a very pretty place, kind of too perfect. Truly. It was like a mix of an Italian mountain village and Basque. I can’t overstate its beauty and of course my pictures are crappy. I expected it to have more of a fishing vibe, but it’s not really a port kind of place. The upper town is just perfect to stroll around (but it’s hilly). The lower town has a great pedestrianized zone full of restaurants with lots of chairs and tables outside. I left wondering if the townspeople ever travel, because they would just be disappointed almost anywhere else they go.



From there, I took a quick 1.80 euro ferry across the river/border to Hendaye in France. The walk along the beach there was calm, and I was surprised to see a lot of surfers. It must be a calmer beach for surfing because I saw lots of kids surfing as well.



I continued walking up to Abaddia Chateau, which I had read had great views and was free to walk around the grounds. Again, I don’t know why I didn’t actually search ahead of time, but I found out once I got up there that it was 2 euros to walk around outside and 8 euros to go inside. There was a public bathroom that I made use of while deciding whether to go in. In the end, I decided that I’d had lots of sea views lately and they couldn’t be that different up there, so I headed back down the hill. I guess if you’re also interested in touring the place it would be cool, but I personally am tired of ostentatious displays of wealth.



This time, I walked towards the Hendaye town center which is farther and a slightly different direction than the beach. The suburbs I walked through were deathly silent, strange for a beautiful afternoon. The town itself was also not very interesting—nothing special there at all. In a different season (when businesses are open), the walk along the beach there might be worth it to stop for an ice cream or snack, but don’t visit just for the town—it’s not worth it.



I took an Euskotren train back to San Sebastián for 2.45 euros. I had done a lot of walking, but back in the city, I walked to Cristina-Enea Park and the area of Gros. I passed a cultural center called Tabakalera, which could have interesting exhibits.



In the evening, I went out for pinxtos (tapas) with most of the other hostel guests. The place was nothing special. The cider dispenser was cool, though. I don’t live in a region known for cider, so I don’t know if it’s common or not. It looked like a metal statue of an arm lifted up holding a bottle and when the bartender turned on the switch, it shot cider in a stream in an arc into the cup. Later, we went to Bar Iguana, which I would recommend for relatively cheap beer and dive-bar atmosphere.



My last day in San Sebastián, I strolled along Paseo de la Concha. It's a path that follows the beach along a beautiful bay between the center and Monte Igueldo. There’s a tiny island out in the bay which enhances the scenery. It’s a perfect, beautiful beach. I started a walk up Monte Igueldo with the intention of hiking it instead of taking the incline. However, one-third of the way up, I decided the view couldn’t improve by going higher.



I wandered the nearby neighborhood Ondarreta, which felt like a very livable residential area. Like other parts of San Sebastián, there were wide bike lines and lots of bikers (at least for Spain—not compared to a place like Denmark). If I lived in San Sebastián, I think I would like that area.



Next, I happened upon Miramar Palace, surrounded by a public park, which was an excellent find. Apparently it was built for the aforementioned Hapsburg Maria Christina. The actual palace was closed, but the grounds were well-manicured with perfect views of the beach below.



For lunch, I walked back to beach in Gros, where surfers frequently go. I ate the last of the packed food I’d brought with me from Coruña while sitting on the concrete wall along the beach. I’m not going to lie— seeing so many surfers my last few months in Galicia and then in the Basque Country have made me consider taking surfing lessons.



After that break, I decided to climb Monte Urguell at the end of the peninsula. It was free and moderately interesting. What struck me was that the forests in the parks (Monte Urguell and Christina-Enea) were so natural, and similar to Pennsylvania. I really have struggled in Coruña without forested park areas near me.



Feeling energized, I returned to the hostel to pick up my bag (I’d checked out in the morning and left my bag so I could walk around bag-free). I really enjoyed sunny San Sebastián so much, and I wasn’t looking forward to my evening plan.



San Sebastián was certainly charming and beautiful—a wonderful tourist destination with lots to visit. But I’ve realized there’s a kind of binary between character and beauty. Things so beautiful don’t tend to have a lot of character, and for me, character is also essential. So, while I loved visiting the city, I wouldn’t want to live there. The people there, in contrast to Bilbao, had more of a fashion-conscious/cosmopolitan vibe. They, less than intellectualism, seemed more disposed to only the aesthetic.



I left San Sebastián with the plan to go to Irún and take an overnight bus from there around 12:45am to Rennes in Brittany, France. When I planned it, I imagined I would like to have the chance to explore another city as opposed to taking the bus from San Sebastián. Unfortunately, because there is no luggage storage there, though, any tourism has to be done with your bags. And there’s actually really not that much to see anyway.



I ended up spending a couple of hours in the public library. I asked the librarian if it was okay if I take my backpack in since I was traveling, or if I should leave it at her desk or something. In many libraries (and also grocery stores) in Galicia, there are lockers you can put bags in with a 50 cent or 1 euro deposit. She got all concerned and said I couldn’t leave it with her and that there was no storage there. I bet tons of tourists come in to ask, so she was defensive. However, I just didn’t want to disobey a rule of taking big bags into the library. In the end, she said I could go with my bag but that I would be watched. I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, but I wasn’t watched.



Anyway, the city could probably get more tourism if they put lockers somewhere for luggage. It is a beautiful brand new-looking library building, so they could have considered putting them in. This is an issue not only limited to the Basque Country, though. Lots of cool places don’t have luggage storage, so people end up sitting in stations/airports instead of exploring and spending money in the cities and towns. The most common thing you hear is that they don’t want to put lockers because of security issues.



I then attempted to find a café for dinner. Unfortunately, I’d waited until peak tapa hour to search, and of the few cafes there, all were full. With a big backpack and hoping to waste time in whichever I chose, I passed them and walked to the train/bus station to see what cafes they had. Well, I rocked up to the train station and saw there was only one café and one plug in the entire station for cell phone charging. Wait, let me go next door to the bus station. Nope, no bus station in sight. It’s just a bus stop outside of the train station. This is something that even the internet fails on—adequately describing where buses will come to. So I was stuck at the lousy station for around 4 hours. I could have ventured back out, but my shoulder has a nerve problem that kills me when I wear a backpack for too long.



Every time I take an ALSA bus, I say ‘never again’, and then I do it again, so it really is my fault. This time ranks as one of the three (or four?) most stressful ALSA trips. The problems are usually related to their rule of having tickets printed if you’re traveling across borders (instead of almost every other method of transportation, where you can show tickets on your phone). The train station was unheated and had a total of two benches inside. I discovered another plug near the floor, so in the end, I plopped down my backpack as a floor seat while charging.



Inside entered a cast of strange, clueless passengers, mostly speaking French. As more and more employees closed their windows and the café, the passengers searched for help from the few other passengers. A number of different people showed up with luggage after 9:30pm and were planning to go to France (admittedly just 5 minutes away). But they didn’t know about the trains or buses. Just . . . I was just amazed at how unprepared they were. How do you travel and get by with so little planning?



The last train came and went. A minute later, two local girls ran in asking about the train to so-and-so. As the only one in the station, I had to be the bearer of bad news and report that they’d just missed it. I think they’d been waiting on the wrong platform.



Around midnight, a worker came in to say he had to close the station. So I then set myself up near the bus stop sign. A number of rotating characters continued to come around. For example, one chain-smoking guy wanted to take a bus to Paris and couldn’t get into the station to buy a ticket from the ALSA machine. Luckily there were some ‘normal’ people waiting a bit farther if anything truly dangerous had happened. 12:45am came and went.



After waiting 20 minutes, the guys farther up came to check with me. I was waiting for a 12:45 bus to Rennes, and they were waiting for a 12:45 bus to Paris, but I knew they weren’t the same bus. And they were both late. Time passed, and I thought, 'Oops, I should have a backup plan'. I started searching online to see if I could call ALSA to check on the bus. There didn’t even seem to be a way.



Around 1:15 a new traveler showed up and asked me if I was going to Nantes. I said I was going farther, to Rennes (but I knew it was the same bus). But it was weird because if he was taking that bus which was supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, why would he show up then? It turned out that he was the driver for my bus. As an ALSA representative, suddenly the 5 people nearby accosted him with questions. I can’t express how relieved I was that he was on my bus and that my bus was coming.



Finally it pulled up, and I hopped on. Phew!



Just 5 days in the Basque Country wasn’t enough to see much, but here are some things I noticed while there:

-lots of skateboarders and skate parks

-separatist propaganda (although Barcelona/Catalonia and Galicia also have their own)

-more Spanish than I expected. There were some Basque language speakers, which I heard more in San Sebastián (but it may be because it took some time to start to recognize it as Basque). In the library in San Sebastián, a worker started talking to me in Basque until I had to tell her (in Spanish) that I didn’t understand. This was surprising because of the number of tourists they must get. The Basque place names are really challenging. I bet the language is challenging to learn, too.

-good public transportation

-friendly people (that I encountered)

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Photos

San Sebastián, Center
"Hapsburg" style

Casco Viejo, San Sebastián
Notice hanging Olentzero, the Basque character who brings presents on December 24