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Published: July 12th 2006
Music, Irun
No guns in evidence here, either Irun - where weirdly dressed men shoot pigeons in the street...
Our arrival in Spain was about as disconcerting and unsalubrious as possible. Imagine if you will the well oiled machine that is the French rail network(hindsight is a marvellous thing), where facilities stretch as far as signs outlining the composition of carriages for each train. Imagine our increasing confidence in our ability to deal inelegantly but effectively with the French. Imagine the beauty and graciousness of the French towns in which we were staying.
Hold that in your mind, and then imagine how we might have felt after our arrival in Irun - our first stopping off point in Spain. The station was largely deserted and with a distinctly post soviet feel. The gentleman at the international rail information centre reacted as if I´d asked if his mother was a murderer (or supported France) when I asked if he spoke English.
Having given up on finding anything like a map of Irun at the train station, we decided we had nothing to lose by just setting out. Daren´s unerring sense of direction got us to the town, at which point we started to notice large
The Locals, Irun
No guns in evidence here... numbers of people dressed in red and white. Then we started to notice that there was a distinct uniform, red berets, white trousers, jackets and GUNS. REAL GUNS - proved by one reveller who took it upon himself to shoot at a bunch of pigeons lurking on the street. It was only lunch time, but many of the revellers were distinctly worse for wear (lots of costume dishevellment was the major clue here) so we were left feeling somewhat on edge (We´d wandered into Irun in the middle of their festival of St Martzial. We think this is when the Basque people of Irun celebrate a famous victory over the French, and a saint´s day. We never really got to the bottom of it. But they did look rather spiffing in their outfits).
And we still had to run this gauntlet to find ourselves a room for the night. In Spanish.
All in all, not our most comfortable of arrivals.
San Sebastian - where we had a perfect moment...
I´m probably not being fair to Irun. I´m sure it is a very nice place, but we were really only here because it was a
cheap base from which to visit San Sebastian.
San Sebastian. Much hyped by at least a couple of friends, and one of the few places my father remembers visiting back in ´68 when he and some other kiwi mates travelled through Europe in an ex-London black cab.
And we loved it. After the disappointment of Biarritz and St Jean de Luz, San Sebastian was everything we had hoped for in a city beach. A perfect semi-circle of sand, azure water, busy but not crowded, and perfectly framed by tree covered mounts, one of which is home to a Big Jesus, a la Rio.
We walked the length of the beach working on our tans (and freckles), but probably looking like old fashioned British holidaymakers of the 60s with our trousers rolled up to our knees, our teeshirts rolled up to the shoulder, hats and backpacks on (we´d forgotten our swimsuits in our hurry to escape Irun). We cooled down by climbing the tree lined slopes of Mt Urgull (the one with Big Jesus atop). After exploring the old battlements and trying to understand the confusing alliances of British, French, Spanish and others over the centuries, we stumbled
upon a bar.
In lengthening shadows signalling the closing hours of a glorious day, with a fabulous view along the length of the beach and the harbour, far from the hustle and bustle, we sat for who knows how long, drinking cold beers and watching the sun head towards the sea. We agreed that this was a perfect moment.
We had the perfect ending to the day by heading into the old town and pigging out on loads of Pinxos (Basque version of tapas) and red wine. Sigh...
Bilbao - Or should I just say the Guggenheim
Into Bilbao for a bit more culture AKA the Bilbao Guggenheim Museum. The building itself is a major draw and we were both pretty impressed by that alone, but inside it´s even better with what seems like a complete absence of straight flat walls. The place is full of curves and little niches and corners. It´s a very nice place to be because every view point is interesting. On the day we visited, its major draw was its air conditioning. We spent a happy four hours checking out the incredible Richard Serra sculptures and the exhibition of Russian
art.
By the time we´d finished we were nearing kick off time for the England v Portugal game. We headed to Bilbao´s old town, indiscriminately chose the first pub showing the football, and then drank and ate our way through two hours of nail biting stress. Needless to say, neither of us were feeling very charitable towards the Portugese by the end of the game. Unfortunate really since it is our next our destination...
Salamanca - another surprise hit
Before we get onto lovely Salamanca, we have to mention the train journey from Irun to Salamanca. From plains of golden wheat punctuated from time to time by distant town spires and church domes, to huge craggy hillsides and amazing rock formations on the top of each peak, then onto wooded hillsides where the train seemed to cling hundreds of metres above rivers and valleys. We went through many tunnels and each one seemed to open out onto another new and totally amazing view. For outstanding views, this is a route we´d recommend to anyone.
We arrived in Salamanca late on a Sunday. The whole town seemed to be out, either strolling around or sitting
San Sebastian
Our photos just don´t do this place justice in the restaurants and cafes littering the city streets. We joined in by nabbing ourselves a table and enjoying a drink in Plaza Mayor, the spectacular main square.
After dinner we cruised the sights. Salamanca is one of the earliest University towns and has an abundance of beautiful, golden sandstone buildings and two cathedrals. Many of the buildings are elaborately decorated, with all manner of carving and detail. The detail is so great that it would be impossible to truly appreciate it unless you spent many hours just looking at one 2m x 2m spot.
One item we did bother looking for is the famous frog to be found in the detail of the University facade. Finding it brings good luck in studies, love and life, so it seemed worthwhile investing a couple of minutes trying to locate it. Eventually we did, cheekily squatting on the head of one of the many skulls.
We departed Salamanca, a surprise hit as we were only there as a stopping off point on our journey to La Coruna in Galicia, the north west point of Spain. En route we heard the distressing news of the Metro accident in Valencia. At
that time the TV news was suggesting a a bomb may have been the cause. This left us both in quite a bad way, especially having to get straight on to a train.
La Coruna... or is it Scotland?
A 6 hour journey on a packed train departing in the afternoon, arriving at dusk. And another beautiful journey, the plains of central Spain transforming to rolling hills then lush green forests.
The next day was spent exploring this urbanised town, as Abbie described it 'the place that town planning forgot'. I´m sure it´s a pleasant place, but having been spoiled by most of the towns we've gushed about so far, it was very hard to see any good points. When there is an architectural revival and appreciation of concrete construction of the 1960's, La Coruna will be favorite for top spot.
Ab - I´ve got to be honest - La Coruña is butt ugly.
It didn't help that the weather was overcast and grey. Still, this didn't stop your intrepid explorers from getting out and amongst it, and we did discover a few gems. A rather nice beach (shame about the tower blocks). A
faux Stonehenge built on the bank at the harbour mouth (ditto more tower blocks).
And the Tower of Hercules. A huge lighthouse at the mouth of the bay that La Caruña squats over. It is over 200 years old, and is allegedly built on the sight of an original Roman lighthouse, and one mentioned in Greek legend (unfortunately, the tower blocks were a bit of a hazard to photography). It´s also meant to be the oldest working lighthouse in the world, but this claim may be somewhat dubious.
All that walking (except for a brief flirtation with one of La Coruña´s wonderful old trams) made us hungry, and we could not resist the very reason we'd put La Coruña on our list of places to visit - the SEAFOOD. A plate of pulpo (octopus) with paprika and olive oil, chased down with glasses of the local white Albariño wine. Razor clams, grilled with lemon. Huge gambas (prawns) in garlic and oil. And the one thing we'd looked forward to the most: Percebes (Thank you, Rick Stein). These are goose barnacles that are only to be found on this part of the coast. Expensive. But very tasty. Very happy
Big Church Salamanca
Can you see Daren? He's standing in front of the doors... and very full, these two kids rolled down the hill to a very good nights sleep.
Our onward journey took us to Portugal, but with a few hours stopping over at Santiago de Compostela. This is famous for being a site of pilgrimage as it is alleged that St James (one of the important dudes in setting up christianity) is buried here. As a result, thousands visit every year with the specific goal to visit his crypt. This is within a huge church. St James Church. A very nice, old town centre with lots of plaza's was a nice place to wander and have lunch, before we got back on our train, and headed for the next chapter of our adventure... Portugal.
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Domhnall
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La Coruna v Scotland
Oi! What's this? The title intrigued me, comparison with God's country? La Coruna must be blessed with fair weather, friendly people and gorgoeus scenery (especially in light of your previous gushing comments about your time in Scotland). But it's "butt ugly"??? Don't see the connection - unless this was a subtle reference to Glasgow and another wind up for Colin :-) Glad to hear you're still enjoying the trip. I'm enjoying reading about it and am growing more jealous by the hour!