Whirlwind of northern Spain, and a stop in France for lunch

I arrived back from Barcelona Monday morning, and then was whisked away by my parents, grandmother, and the Haskells (family friends) Tuesday night. I haven´t had much down time in the past week--exactly the way that I like it. Tuesday night was reserved for the Guggenheim, as it was decided only one night was necessary for Bilbao, which was a good call. After everyone was zombied by the silver missle mines in the Guggenheim we had a quick dinner before resting for a full day of travelling. At dinner, the only local thing I could think to recommend was Kalimutxo, which is a combination of red wine and coke. My mom was the only one brave enough to order it.

One the map, the green highways are the scenic ones. Makes sense. We opted to take as many of them as possible in order to accutally see Spain. Phenomenal idea, as there is no other way that I would get to see the little towns of the country in which I am living. All the buses take the main highways, and destinations are to cities, so this worked out quite well for me.

Our green highways led us first to a quick stop in Guernica, then to Biarritz, a coastal quaint town in France that is in one of the French Basque provinces. Our first stop in the village was lunch in an outdoor cafe on the ocean. Picturesque. We then took the train tour of the city. We opted to depart at the neighboring beach of our car, and walked past a surfing competition and casino on our way to the chocolate store. I ended up consuming my entire chocoalate bar before we arrived at the car. Shocking, I know.

After we decided we had enough of France, and our GPS system failed on us due to taking it across boarders, we headed towards San Sebastian, our place of rest for the evening. We did a quick drive through tour of the city on our way to the hotel, bypassing the historical and market districts. Our hotel was less than a five minute walk from the infamous shell-shaped beach, known through-out Spain. On our search for dinner that night we ended up finding many sports clubs and tennis courts, but no where to eat until 9 o´clock. This however, is quite usual in Spain for nothing to open until this late.

Thursday posed a bit of a problem however, as it was all Saint´s Day, a big holiday for Spain. Translate it to our Thanksgiving, they all see their family, have a big meal, and a four day weekend. Just add a religious component into the mix, and it´s Thanksgiving in Spain. Even breakfast was a search, as everything is closed. However, as usual, we were on the road early.

From here on off, I have to be careful of the order in which I tell the cities by, as I have five witnesses (or CINCO as they are all very proud to know) to keep me in line. The morning I was a bit fuzzy on to begin with however, because like clockwork, carsickness set in within the first hour of travelling. During this time however, I believe that we drove through Vitoria (VIT-OR-E-A if you ask my dad) which is the capital of the Basque country. Now we travelled through the entire Basque country at this point, which I read this morning, is similar in size to New Hampshire. After blowing through Vitoria, we entered quite a bit of plains and agriculture. We were haeding towards Logroño, when we took what we hoped to be our lunch break. Instead we encountered hundreds of people in a wall-city with an incredible view of both the plains and the mountains. Apparently there was a convention in the city for the long weekend, which would explain why we struggled to find a parking spot for our car, which I endearingly refer to as the bus. We ended up having lunch in Logroño at the Drunken Duck, the only place open, and surprisingly didn´t speak a word of English, which is rare for an Irish pub.

We then beelined it for our destination, the name is currently escaping me, though I believe it was near Elciego, as that was a road sign I was continually looking for. The whole drive to our hotel was through the wine region in Spain, called La Rioja. We therefore passed many grape trees (for Dad) as well as hoards of vines. We ended up pulling off on the side of the road to inspect a field of them. The grapes we saw were very dark and had pits. We wondered how easy it would be to make wine with pitted grapes, as this was the purpose of the grapes, but we gathered that these people knew what they were doing with their hundreds of hectors of grapes.

Friday was a day of travelling. Our first attraction was Burgos, which housed Catedral de Burgos and Monasterio de Santa María la Real de Las Huelgas. The highlight of this town for me was finding a homemade Christmas store, something I have been searching for since my arrival in Spain. We spent the greater part of the morning in the town, and left only to get back on the road, not because we were finished.

Madrid was the first city that everyone throughly enjoyed. The reason for the green roads, was because everyone preferred them to the cities. Regardless, Madrid had it´s own feel. It felt incredibly busy and flooded with people, something that no one had quite expected. Saturday was the touring of Madrid, which started with the Reigna Sofia, which homes Picasso´s Guernica, as well as an impressive wonderbread castle in the middle of the woods for a bird feast. After that modern art musuem we jumped on the tour bus which gave us a historical tour of the city, which we interrupted when we decided that Plaza Mayor would be a great place to have lunch. Plaza Mayor is an outdoor courtyard with cafes and restaurants covering the exterior walls. We were entertained by witches, Bopping Betty type characters, as well as a band. The Prado followed lunch, the classical, and most famous museum in Madrid. This museum guards many of Goya´s, El Greco´s, and Ruben´s most well-known pieces. Only have of the group was artistically exhausted at this point, so half us departed to explore the city while the other have made full use of our tri-museum pass and saw (post)impressionist art at the Thyssen-Bornemisza.

The highlight of the entire trip was Saturday night. We sadly had to rush through tapas, but the restaurant we choose we a great pick. Before the digestive process even begun we were already sitting in our seats at the Flamenco Ballet. It is exactly what it sounds like, a mix of Flamenoc and Ballet dances. It was my first experience of either, and apparently very authentic on both accounts. I thourghly enjoyed the show, and am now even more anxious to head down to Sevilla to see Flamenco at its home.

Sunday was the day of departure, five on a plane back home, one on a bus to her Spanish home. Luckily I don´t have class until late today, because after nearly ten days of travelling, I was quite tired and slept most of this morning. Next on my list of travels requiring a plane: Sevilla.