San Sebastian

Now after our harrowing train adventure, we stepped off into quite a wonderful little city. It was about 7 in the morning and the city was just coming to life. The city was clean and beautiful and was a welcome sight. We arrived early at our B and B and one of the guests who was up early let us in. Real nice guy who was on his honeymoon. We hung out and waited for the owners to get there. They couldn`t have been nicer and more accomodating. Our room was ready and we could check in at 8 and they even made us breakfast. Realy wonderful people who would later get us a bottle of champagne because it was my birthday. We took a nap for a couple of hours and then went off to explore.


San Sebastian is a well-heeled resort town. Queen Isabella had her summer home here which helped solidify the cities reputation. No cheesy tshirt shops here, just beautiful beaches and beautiful architecture.


We can`t overstate how nice this place is. The weather was nice and we strolled along the old town and beachfront and dug into our first Pinxtos, Basque tapas.

Little sandwiches with peppers, some gorgonzola, salmon and a seafood ball which was quite a fine discovery. It tasted like a deep fried ball of shrimp etoufee. It was outstanding.

Every place seems to work differently and ordering food can be a little intimidating at first. We asked for a plate and pretty much picked whatever we wanted to eat, then just stood up and ate it. You have to remember what you ate and tell them when you are ready to pay. Some places you only get one plate, others a plate for each of us and still others where you just eat with your hands from the plates on the bar, plateless. We went to a few different places for lunch, having a bite or two and a drink in each place. This is the true art of pinxto eating and was a lot of fun. This really is a good way to eat.

We got some much needed sleep and decided to celebrate my birthday on the 11th so we could sleep in the next day and wouldn`t have to travel after going out. We started early and hit damn near every pinxtos bar in the city. Some highlights were skewers of grilled fish and meat, a pimento stuffed with a creamy cod (way better than it sounds), a goat cheese pimento and salmon pinxtos and a rabbit leg.

We ate the little fried seafood ball at every place we could find it. We drank a crisp white wine which is a staple of the region and goes well with seafood. Now, what we didn`t like was the heavy use of mayo. They seem to put it on everything. No thanks. We tried our share of anchoives and herring, but we just don`t have the taste for them. Well at least we tried.
We had a great time hitting all the bars and absorbing the night life. We had a conversation with the bartender at one restaurant about San Sebastian and Basque food.

She spoke easy to understand Spanish, and when I have a few drinks in me I can somehow speak better. It is like playing pool, a couple drinks help relax you and prevent you from thinking too much, but a few too many and you are knocking balls out the window.

The next day our heads were a little heavy and since it was my actual birthday Brooke said we could do anything I wanted, except for ride bikes. So naturally we rode bikes. After the initial headache wore off we got into the groove.

We rode up a hill to a watchtower which provided beautiful views over the city and the countryside.


Of course it was cloudy, which seems to be a reoccuring theme anytime we manage to hike, bike or climb our way to the top of something. Oh well, it was fun anyway and there was an amusment park from the 1960s on the top of the hill. There weren`t too many people around and a half empty amusement park in the windy overcast weather can be a little spooky. Unfortunately the `Casa del Terror` (hee hee, casa del terror) was closed.

But there was a mini roller coaster that we rode. It was way more fun than expected. It was old and rickety and ran around the edge of the cliff and was run by an old Spanish carney. It was 2 euro, but hell it was my birthday and a roller coaster ride was in order.
We rode down and had a little mini-pinxtos session and got some rest, sorry to leave this picture perfect little resort.

Night Train

So even with 5 days to make plans, we didn`t buy our tickets to San Sebastian until the last minute. We planned on taking the night train to save some money on hotels and some time. We only had a choice of buying 1st class seats or a 2nd class couchette sleeper. They were both about the same price and the guy at the counter suggested that riding in the first class seats was better than being packed into a tiny compartment with 6 people in beds. I agreed, so first class it was.

Now, I know everybody has an idea what first class means to them. Free champagne and choclates, perhaps a butler (I wasn`t really expecting this but I was expecting some manner of luxury) It wasn`t terrible, but a bit dirty with a crapy bathroom nearby. We expected a little more. I couldn`t help but wonder what the regular class was like. No worries, only about 9 hours to endure and at the moment we had the 6 person carraige to ourselves. We were relaxing and about an hour later another person got into our carriage. We exchanged respectful hellos and all tried to settle in. After about another hour we all had two seats to ourselves and were laying down in the dark trying to get some sleep. Hey, this isn`t too bad. Í felt the train stop again and we prayed that nobody was coming into our car. The chattering and noise got louder and stopped in front of our door then all hell broke loose.

The door opened and we all sat upright and clicked the lights on to make room for what arrived. It was an older bedouin couple from Yemen just chattering away at the top of their lungs. We were half-dazed from sleep and this was quite a rude awakening. They spent about 5 minutes arguing over the suitcase while it was on my foot. `Yeah dude, just put it up in the lugage rack, that is where it goes.` Now as they sat down still talking non-stop, I noticed they were on the phone, long distance or something with cousin Faesal. They had the phone away from their ears just yelling into it. Brooke and I were exchanging horrified glances with each other and the other guy in our carriage. The phone conversation lasted at least 15 minutes, but when they were off the chattering continued. This was quite a poor turn of events, but nothing to do but sit back and suffer.
The talking eased off just a bit as time went on and we may have even dozed off for a bit. When we got to Pampalona, the conductor came by and announced it and the giant signs outside stated that we were in Pampalona. The bedouin woman must have repeated Pampalona, Pampalona like 50 times to Brooke, yes woman, this is clearly Pampalona. All our roomies got off a bit later and we were able to sleep horizontally for about 2 hours for the final leg into San Sebastian. Next time we are flying.

Barca

Barcelona, one of the best cities I have been to in recent memory and also where I met Mike Hicks for the first time. Mike was there teaching English, and I was there on vacation. He was living with a mutual friend that I knew through Drew, so we all hooked up and hung out. We talked and Mike mentioned he was moving back to Texas and I invited him to stay with Drew and I for a bit and the rest is history. So, Brooke has had to endure us talking about how cool Barcelona is and how good the food and architecture is, blah blah blah, so it was built up in her mind. We spent 5 days there which is an eternity when you are traveling like this. We stayed
up in the Eximaple, a bit away from the touristy areas. Barca has good transportation, and walking a bit is no problem when you have some time. It was nice to be able to really take it slow when seeing things.

Barcelona is a city I could see myself living in and we really wanted to soak up the atmosphere. It has always reminded me of San Francisco but warmer. Big, progressive, clean with beautiful archeticture and a creative edgy populace. Gaudi and the modernista architects had a huge influence on this city and Brooke came to quickly appreciate their style.

Between the medievel old town and the modern Exiample the quirky flowing lines of the modernistas really sets the tone. We walked around a lot just soaking in the atmosphere. Barcelona has been experiencing a bit of a Renaissance since the Olympics in `92. It is one of the top cities for young people in the EU to move to.

It was fun hanging out at nights in our hood, eating and drinking at the cafes up and down the street. We had chicken and cheese crepes one night which was basically like a burrito, ate tapas, had cava and generally enjoyed ourselves. We hung out in a square one night just full of people our age drinking beer and playing with their dogs. We took up a spot in a cafe and ordered some tapas. Now, we have been in Italy for a month and I have been trying to speak Italian by modifying my Spanish a bit. The languages are very similar but just different enough to confuse me. I have really been working to say `di` instead of `de` and `senza` instead of `sin` and pronouncing all my c`s as `ch` and now it bit us in the ass. We order what we usually order in Italy, a bottle of `vino rosso`, red wine. Now from being in Mexico both Brooke and I know that in Spanish, red wine is vino tinto (colored) and vino rosso is some pink crap. So here we are, with all these hip Barcelona kids drinking a bottle of pink wine. It was gawd awful and embarassing.

Single gentelmen, listen up. We saw this place in our guide book and gave it a cursory glance (perhaps Brooke`s glance was more steadfast), until we saw it was free on Monday. This being Monday we headed over. Free to get in and a free bar of choclate per entry, the chocolate museum was the place to be. Where else can you see a choclate Pieta, I think this is much better than that crap by Michelangelo, this should be in the Vatican.

Now, I was tired and while Brooke was in a fantasy land of choclate history and sculpture I had a seat, where I made the astute observation that the chocolate museum is a great place to pick up chics. I think I was the only man in the place and was surrounded by women under the magical spell of the cocoa bean. There was also an exhibit on the Barcelona soccer team, I assume to give the attached men in the audience some entertainment. I had a hard time reconciling why the soccer stuff belonged in a chocolate museum, but it was free and I was tired so I sat quietly and ate my chocolate.

So the people in Barcelona are on average young and progressive. Hash is basically leagal here and people take full advantage of this. I want to draw some sort of correlation between hash consumption and hairstyles here. The mullet is insanely popular. A guy from Barcelona that we met in Mexico even had a mullet. Fine whatever, you want to rock the mullet, you are European, I will give you some leeway. Now what I have never seen is the dread mullet. These are people whith short normal hair on top and with mullet dreadlocks. Some dreads are short, others longer, but it is just wild to see. It is not isolated either, in our time here
we saw perhaps 30 or 40 people were rolling with this style.

We did a lot in our time here, saw the Picasso museum which had a lot of his early work and stuff from his blue period. We saw the Joan Miro museum which is pretty out there but pretty fascnitating. The Sagrada Familia, Gaudis unfinished masterpiece.

We went to the Gaudi designed Park Guell

which is a wonderful hodgepodge of fantastical structures. We got to make a pilgramage to Montjuic, home of the `92 Olympics where Oklahoma native Shannon Miller began her quest of becoming the most decorated female gymnast in US history.
One night we caugt some classical guitar at a gorgeous old theater. It was a nice treat to catch some music and see some top notch Spanish guitar.

We took a daytrip to Monserrat

which is a Monestarry perched on a huge cliff. We hiked to the summit which was wonderfully scenic and afforded close-up views of all the unique rock formations.

There were several that were supposed to look like things, a pregnant woman for instance, but we just made up our own things which was a lot more fun. The hike was a lot of fun and reaching the top had some pretty decent views even though it was cloudy. Apparantly on a clear day you can see the island of Mallorca.

Cadaques and Port Ligat

We actualy stayed in the neighbouring town of Cadaques which is a little bigger and easier to find cheaper accomodation and just a few minutes walk from Port Ligat. We were surprised to find a little balcony in our room which was nice. Cadaques is a picture perfect little fishing village with whitewashed houses and narrow streets, and a calm harbor full of boats.

The weather was a little cooler than we expected, but if it was warm this place would be overrun with sunseekers, so no worries. We walked around the picturesque little town, watched the sunset and got some tapas and a drink near the water. Some people actually asked us for directions in Spanish and I was able to answer them and even point them in the right direction.

Since we had a balcony, we got some snacks and hung out and soaked it in.
The next day we walked over to Port Ligat to see Dali`s house. This is something I didn`t get to do my first time around and was itching to get there. I didn`t have high expectations for this place. It costs about 15 US and you have to make a reservation to see the place. Fortunately we were pleasently surprised.

His house was as crazy as his museum and his life. It was originally his family,s vacation house and was just big enough for him and his Gala. Gala was Dali`s wife and muse. She was the wife of a Russian and when her and some friends met Dali in Spain, they ran away together and would remain together until the end of their days. The house expanded over the years and would eventually be built up and contain several rooms, a pool and a garden on a hill. Now, even though he expanded it, it was very very modest by international icon standards. Dali, although eccentric, was rather modest in regard to material posessions. Clearly as the polar bear in the living room would indicate.


Great place, I would have loved to party with this guy here.

We walked around the little village of Port Ligat which has not changed much over the years.


Now this may not seem like a big deal, but it can be quite rare in some parts of Spain where beach tourism is huge. Just 30 minutes down the road is a huge town of mini golf, hamburgers and t shirt shops. You might as well be in Gulf Shores. On our way to the bus station we saw a little side of the road stand with a woman selling food. She had some little nuggets stuffed with a type of creamed chicken which were remarkably good. Eating street nuggets from a nice old Spanish woman on a Sunday on the coast was when we finally settled into the Spanish groove.

Figueres and Dali

Okay, so the inevitable Spain and Italy comparisons are forthecoming. As much as we want to enjoy each place on it`s own merit, it is hard. The coffee we have had is nothing close to Italy. Italian coffee is something else. So rich and smooth. Nothing like that here, but on the bright side the proximity to France has provided some outstanding croissants and much better bread. Off to the mad, mad world of Salvador Dali. I have always loved Dali and his warped outlook on life which is reflected in his art. Brooke has never been a huge fan of the Dali work she has seen but the museum definitely changed her mind. Seeing a range of his work from the span of his entire life puts things into perspective. Dali got to design his own museum in his hometown and he made it as crazy as his artwork. It is a jumbled assortment of his paintings, sculptures and installations set up in
a way meant to confuse and promote random wandering. The museum is just fun in a way many art museums are not. You leave with a kind of giddy feeling like wandering through Alice`s looking glass. Dali was born in Figueres and grew up there and wouldn`t think of having his museum or his final resting place anywhere else, but
I never found the town too inviting. Apparently neither did Dali since he actually lived most of his life on the coast in the nearby town of Port Ligat. I think we will head there too.

Girona

Our first foray into Espana. I love Spain and wanted to show Brooke all the places I had been recently, plus hit several more. Being able to kludge my way through the language and with Brooke picking up a surprising amount in our time in Mexico, we felt in more familiar territory. We could ditch all translation
books and dig in a bit more. Girona is a nice enough little town with a great little medievel quarter. A church sits high up on a hill and it is so clean it looks like it was built just the other day.

Not that we were tired of Italian food, but we were excited to eat some different things. Apparently all the Italian food followed us here because there were a lot of pizza and gelato places around. Our first meal was a Jamon Iberico (acorn fed pig, props to Mr. Hicks for recommending we eat the Iberico) `hamburger` with grilled onions and Brooke had a cured Jamon Iberico, goat cheese and pimento
sandwich. Not a bad start. We had our first tapas later that night. Some little chorizos, patatas bravas and mushrooms in olive oil and garlic. Now these patatas bravas were some of the best I have ever eaten. This dish can range all over the map
from the sauce being ketchup and mayo to this. The brava sauce came on the side for dipping and was a homemade tomato sauce that tasted like a homemade marinara with a splash of homemade BBQ sauce and a splash of heat. It was outstanding.

Viva RyanAir

Okay, why don`t we have RyanAir in our country? Our base ticket cost 2.99 Euro to get from Rome to Barcelona. That is less than 5 dollars. Sure we had to pay taxes, baggage fees and check in fees, but after all that we still flew for less than 60 dollars US each. I love these people, and it certainly doesn`t hurt that they are Irish. Yeah fine, there is no free stuff on the plane, but they sell stuff that the people want like pizza, good beer and lotto tickets. They load the plane from two doors so everybody gets on a lot quicker. Now, the only thing free is the on flight magazine which is usually a joke on US airlines. It is usually a boring hodgepodge of articles which try to appeal to the widest audience without alienating people or advertisers, kinda like network TV. Now on RyanAir the magazine has interesting and at times dare I say cheeky material. Articles on truffle hunting, where to stay eat and party in Belgium and what city has the cheapest prostitutes in Europe (Budapest if you are keeping score at home). The magazine also advertised a swimsuit calendar of their flight attendents where all the profits go to charity. Now this is an airline. On top of all this we got to our destination 10 minutes early. Bravo RyanAir, bravo.