A weekend of Gluttony

I believe that post-it notes are a much underrated simple pleasure of life. If I go anywhere remotely cool, and most places are, I buy a good guide book (Thanks Rough Guide to Spain!) and a pack of post-its. Then, I post-it note every inch of that book. A few weeks ago, I was looking at my Spain guide book and I realized that the only post-it note left was Basque country. So, of course, my friends Eddie, Jess and I went.

I wanted to go there for one because I thought I should see the north of Spain and two because it sounded really, really awesome. Basque occupies the northern corner of Spain, right along the French border and it has it's own language and an entirely different culture than the rest of Spain. The origin of the Basque people is unknown - their language is unrelated to any other and they managed to avoid being conquered by the Romans, the Muslims and the Christians. You could say they are hearty. In recent years, they have become more famous for the ETA terrorist group, which is very unfortunately fighting for independence by blowing people up. It is a shame really that Basque has become synonymous with this violence.

Twelve hours and two bus rides later, we arrived in Basque country, which is so forested and green that it looked technicolor to us, coming from the arid landscapes of the south. Bilbao, our first stop, is a gritty place but really charming at the same time. Once there, we went straight to the city's main attraction: the Guggenheim museum, which is just as spectacular in person as it is in photographs. It is said to look like a blossoming flower or a fish jumping out of water - I for one thought it looked like a silver, curvy building. Perhaps I lack that poetic instinct?



The inside was quite the experience as well. A lot of really eccentric modern art. One room was filled with towering seashell-like sculptures that you could walk through. Another section showed independent films, one of which was exhibited in a plywood tunnel and showed an obese woman kneading pizza dough.

We spent our night in Bilbao wandering through the winding streets of the old town, pintxo-hopping. A word about pintxos. They are the Basque version of tapas and also God's gift to the people of Earth. Basque is Spain's self-proclaimed food capital and they are not kidding. Over the course of the two days we were in Basque, I had tempura fried vegetables with curry sauce, various goat cheese concoctions, omelettes, mushroom risotto...dear lord my mouth is watering.

Whew.

Back to Bilbao. While leaving one bar, we came across a crowd singing in the street. We asked an old couple what it was about, and they answered with tears in their eyes, that it was National Basque day. I have to admit I got a little verklempt.

Our next stop was San Sebastian. This city was without doubt my favorite city that I visited in Spain. It is a beautiful and scenic beach town built along a harbor with narrow, old streets and buildings impressive enough to match the landscape. We spent the day here exploring an old castle built on top of a mountain on the harbor. Castle exploring might just be one of my favorite pastimes.



That night we again went out to explore the glorious world of Basque cuisine. San Sebastian has the most bars per square meter in the world and we got a bit more than tipsy just so we could keep eating.


After a few confusing train changes and a brief lunch in the ambiguous border city of Hendaye (I still don't know what country it is in), we arrived in Bordeaux, France. Now, if anyone is planning on ever visiting this city, I should warn you now that the area around the train station is more than a little seedy. Sex shops. Creepy people. Did I mention sex shops? But once we dropped off our bags at our creepy, straight out of The Shining hotel, Bordeaux completely won us over. We treated ourselves to a nice dinner where we all cleaned our plates in happy silence and wandered around the city. Bordeaux is perfect for wandering and just so french. In the morning, we had Cafe Au Lait and Pan Du Chocolat underneath the ancient city gates.



Our last city was Toulouse. It may have been because it was our last day of vacation or because we were there on a Sunday night, but while we there, I felt tired and numb to the city. We did however get to experience a Christmas festival, which filled an impressive plaza with glowing stalls selling all kinds of wonderful things. After the festival, we again wandered through the city and looking back, I can see how charming it is.



It was a weekend of wandering through amazing places and eating amazing food with really great people. You really can't ask for much more in a vacation and I think it was a great trip to end my study abroad on.

I go home tomorrow.

Expect an emotional last blog post from me very soon.