Shell Season

Excerpt from a recent open brainstorming session with some other nerdy writery types. An exploration of autumn-induced feelings and thoughts and general nonsense.

Read More

Listening to ABBA in Ireland

I never really know how to write about my more intense travels because I often try to do and see so much that it's overwhelming to even think about writing it all out. For some reason Emma, Meg, and I let our strange obsession with ABBA run wild during the last puente and their songs sort of punctuated our entire journey. So, dear reader, I now invite you to open your preferred music library and find ABBA's Greatest Hits album, Gold (I know you have it), and allow your four favorite Swedes to accompany you on an Irish expedition.

Friday, Track 1: Dancing Queen

Our mornings (when we had a room to ourselves, at least) were often kicked off by that great piano slide at the beginning of this track. We began our trip with an early morning out of Madrid, landing in Dublin and finding our hostel around 1pm. The weather was a bit glum (surprise) but the skies eventually cleared up and after lunch and a stroll through Temple Bar, Meg and I set out to find the Guinness Storehouse.

In a word: great. After visiting this and the Heineken Experience in Amsterdam I feel that I am allowed to judge and compare and generally consider myself an expert on beer tourism. My only qualm with the Guinness Storehouse is that they let you do a tasting too soon. Sure, I really wanted to have a Guinness within moments of landing, but you just can't give me a taste of the black stuff on the second floor and then tell me the Gravity bar is on the seventh floor! I can't really say what was on the next few floors because we snapped pictures and rushed through them to get to the bar where they teach you how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness. I made Meg be the group's guinea pig and we poured our pints and got our certificates. I tried to make a clover on top of my beer but I was more concerned about pouring a delicious pint and drinking it to make any beautiful artwork.

That night, we had a few drinks around Temple Bar, ate some dinner, and had an early night so we could get up early and start heading across the country.

Saturday, Track 2: S.O.S.

An early morning and a big Irish breakfast took us to the Dublin bus station to head out to Galway, where we'd arranged to rent a car and begin our Irish road trip. Bad luck #1 - we arrived at 1pm and the rental office closed at noon. And doesn't open on Sundays. And we were planning to bring the car back Tuesday morning. Now what? Our extremely helpful staff at the Barnacles Hostel gave us a few suggestions as we modified our itinerary and then went for a walk around town. Lunch was at the apparently famous (but not too famous because their website is in Comic Sans) McDonagh's so we could re-work our plans on a full stomach. After deciding to stay in Galway a little longer we walked through the town, found an open-air market, and had a few pints. We went out to a few bars that night after our hallway was invaded by a neighboring stag party from Dublin that sang to us before they went out.

Sunday, Track 3: Money, Money, Money

Must be funny. At breakfast Sunday morning, Emma asked me, "do you have my money?" Well, no. Of course not. Why do you ask? All of her cash was gone. Bad luck #2. I had been in charge of the bote the night before (bote is a Spanish term used for when everyone puts in the same amount of money to pay for something like dinner or a night of drinks) but I still had our change and nothing more. Then we found out Meg's cash was gone too. Fortunately my stuff was untouched, but it was really unsettling. My inner detective says it was the guy in our room who nobody knew (you're lucky I didn't see your face, guy) because he took cash from bags that weren't very easily accessible in the back of the room, while my stuff was right by the door. Anyone just sticking their head in the door would take what they saw first... not go to the back of the room hoping to find something. And yes, I KNOW we should have been more careful with where we left our things. We've all stayed in hostels before. Consider it a momentary lapse of judgment.

As I said, our hostel staff were super helpful and when we told them about it they dedicated quite some time to our 'case' and gave us a private room for the next night. Once again, we changed our itinerary. Instead of trying to get to some well-known spots in the area, we found a cheap bus out to Clifden and walked along the beach after a quick stop at a playground, because we are adults. We cooked dinner at the hostel that night and then played a game of Clue with a girl from CA in the hostel lobby. I won by default because the other three guessed incorrectly, but then so did I! One extra card (stupid Mrs White) threw us all off.

Monday, Track 4: Super Trouper

We took hostel guy Danny's suggestion to visit the Aran Islands and stay at his pal Dave's hostel, the Kilronan. A choppy ferry ride on a cold, dark, windy day brought us to the pier on Inis Mór, the largest of the Aran Islands. As per the hostel's directions, yes, you really can see it as soon as you get off the boat! We walked over to the hostel and found that we had our cute little room with tiny beds all to ourselves. We had been told that on the Aran Islands it's very common to rent a bike and see the island that way, but when we arrived it was the coldest, windiest, rainiest day of the trip so far... so we opted for a van tour instead. It was the same price and our driver was so knowledgeable about the island that in the end I think it was way more worth it. Even on a nice day we wouldn't have heard so many fun facts on a bike! Our driver took us to the most famous spots on the island, including Dún Aonghasa, an ancient fort atop 100-meter cliffs and my favorite spot of the entire trip.

Our hike was exhausting given the wild weather on our way to the top, but it all paid off as the clouds cleared and we enjoyed some incredible views. At the base of the fortress there's a tiny cafe that made the most delicious beef & Guinness stew I've ever had.

Highly recommended! That night we made some pizzas for dinner before having some pints in the tiny town where everybody knew everybody's name, just not ours. We were nearly proposed to by some gross old locals who sang to us to try to win us over, but it wasn't meant to be.

Tuesday, Track 5: Mamma Mia

At noon we were on a ferry back to to the mainland. At about 1:00 we were on a bus back to Galway center. At 2:30 we were on a bus to a very cold, rainy Dublin. Early the next morning, we were on a plane back to Madrid. Whew! Of course, I took way too many photos and I can only hope they convey the splendor of some of the things we saw. Click here to see them!

Campeones, Campeones, oé oé oé...

When I returned from my trip to Ireland last Wednesday, I was so tired that I was in bed by 8pm that night, and I missed a very important game for Real Madrid. They were playing Athletic Bilbao, and winning that game would clinch their spot at the top and earn them the La Liga title for this season. I just couldn't stay awake! So, Thursday morning I awoke to newspaper headlines and numerous tweets about Real Madrid's 3-0 victory and immediately felt sad that I'd missed yet another storming of the city streets by excited fans. Like in many sports-centric towns, this happens after every major victory. Since I was still in the states when Spain won the World Cup in 2010, I was very sad to have missed out on scenes like this one:

I'm told a similar scene happened last Wednesday night, though on a much smaller scale, and I missed it! Bummer! But all was not lost. Like the world cup, there are always two celebrations -- one always happens at the moment with a sudden eruption of euphoric fans pouring into the streets, and the other is usually the following day, once the team has returned home and the city can organize a proper celebration. What luck! So, Thursday afternoon I met up with a friend nearby and we made our way into Plaza de Cibeles to fight the crowds and hope to get a glimpse of our favorite blancos.

It was fun, but my goodness there were so many people. I don't think I'll do that again... until Spain wins the World Cup again in 2014.

Scottish semi-surprise

How exactly does a trip to Scotland end up as a surprise? Pull up a seat, I'll tell you. What happens is one night you go out to a bar where you used to go all the time with your Scottish friend. You send said friend a text saying, "Guess where I am?" which later turns into a phone call, which the next morning turns into a flight booked for the following weekend. Oh, nostalgia. You never treat me right.

I found a relatively cheap fare for a flight to the UK with only a week's notice and jumped on the opportunity to go hang out with Leigh and the rest of my favorite Scots. When I went also happened to be Leigh's birthday weekend, so that justified my spontaneity a bit. I am nervous now...booking a last-minute flight was quite the rush and I fear that it may happen again...

When I arrived on Friday, we had a calm night, just sitting around and catching up until we were both too tired to talk... like fourteen year-old girls. After only a few hours with us, Leigh's sister was saying that all we do is giggle, and, well, it's true. We woke up to a big Scottish breakfast on Saturday and then wandered around Glasgow center a bit, did a little shopping, and had a drink at a bar near George Square. Leigh's mom made her delicious chili for dinner as we got ready to go out that night for the birthday party. We reserved a booth in a bar and basically took over an entire corner of the room dancing and talking all among ourselves. The best part of the night was when these two people came in trying to promote their Sambuca with Kanye West glasses and stick-on mustaches. I hate Sambuca and anything with anise, but I was happy to help myself to their swag and make myself look ridiculous for the rest of the night. Oh! I lied. The actual best part of the night was when we left the bar and found a Gregg's open at 1am and I ate the warmest, freshest sausage roll on Earth.

On Sunday, Leigh's mom drove us out to Tayport to meet up with her brother, who then took us to see St. Andrews and gave us a fun fact tour. We saw the beach where the opening scene from Chariots of Fire was filmed, the face of Patrick Hamilton on the façade of St. Salvator's, and played zombies coming out of some open tombs in the ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral. We eventually returned to Tayport to stop in some tiny village pubs: at the very tiny and very cute Cobbie's I tried a McEwan's Scottish ale (not bad) and later at Bell Rock Tavern I had a very delicious Belhaven St Andrews ale. We stopped by Leigh's uncle's house before we found our way back to Glasgow for the night, where Leigh and I treated ourselves to a deliciously greasy fried half pizza and curry chips. I love Scotland. But, all good things must come to an end... I came back to Madrid that Monday.

Click here to see all of my photos from this trip! (all of the really good photos were taken by Leigh's uncle, Al Connelly... I'm not that talented!)

My next journey won't be a surprise... I'm off to London to see my mom! Sure, we'll get some sightseeing in here and there but I'm mostly super excited to hang out with mom and our friend Sharon. Look for photos coming soon...

PS:

One more thing... Dad - next time I'm here, you'd better be coming with me!!

Concert Mania

Okay, okay. I know. I haven't written anything in ages. But honestly, I haven't done that much lately! I've been trying to plan a few trips and book flights here and there (upcoming: London & Dublin) and therefore have been almost too broke to do anything outside my normal routine. It has been getting pretty warm here in the afternoons, so outdoor cañas are slowly working their way back into my life.  Ahhh, la primavera ha llegado a la ciudad. That's a line from my favorite Spanish band, Delafé y las flores azules, who I got to see live on Friday night! They played at Joy Eslava, a legendary Madrid nightclub that I honestly would never even dream of going to on a night out, so not only did I get to see a great show, but I got to check out a place I may have never seen otherwise. Friday was their last show ever (supposedly) since the band actually split up a few months ago... we arrived a little late so we were stuck on the high balcony, but I still danced and sang like crazy and bounced my way home after the show.

And two weeks before that, I saw Megafaun, one of my favorite bands from NC. I saw them a few times during Hopscotch 2010 and their music just makes me so nostalgic. I had a blast and talked North Carolina with my friend Laura and one of the guys from the group after the show.

And the week before that... I saw Future Islands! They were in a really cool venue called Boite Live and put on a fantastic show as usual. I bought a sweet t-shirt with the tour dates on the back... Madrid was #1.

In just over two weeks I'll be heading to London for my spring break and mom's gonna come too!! I can't wait!

International beers in Madrid

Originally published on the Guiri Guide to Madrid

Since I started living in Madrid, my family and friends back home often ask me what things I miss most about the US. Aside from amazing burgers and Mom’s macaroni and cheese, I really miss good, interesting beer. I feel a sad longing when I think about all the pale ales and porters back home. Okay, some Spanish beers aren’t that bad, but compared to the variety back home, the beers widely available in Madrid just don’t stand a chance. To combat my nostalgia and stimulate my tastebuds, I’ve scoured the city to find a few places that offer brews that are sure to please even the most discerning palate. The following three spots–two in Malasaña and one in the center–are definitely worth checking out with your favorite beer lover.

1. Casa de la Cerveza (calle Luchana 15, metro: Bilbao)
http://www.lacasadelacerveza.eu/

With a menu boasting hundreds of different beers from all around the world–ever wanted to try a beer from Thailand?–this place is the adventurous beer fan’s paradise. Casa de la Cerveza has the look of a German brauhaus and the feel of a casual sports bar. Come here to get your weird beer fix and try an assortment of bratwursts and other German delicacies while you catch whichever fútbol team is playing that night on the big screen. And for you partygoers, Casa de la Cerveza has a 10 euro open bar deal from 11pm to 1am, though the promotion does not include many of the higher-end beers.

2. Naturbier (Plaza Santa Ana, metro: Sol)
http://www.naturbier.com/

Can you ever go wrong in Santa Ana? Naturbier is another place that brings a bit of Germany straight into the heart of Madrid. This bar gets its name from the beer that they serve on tap: an all-natural, super fresh brew made in-house. When you walk into Naturbier be sure to get a seat where the tables have taps built-in and you can try your hand at pouring your own beer. They have three varieties: rubia (a lighter blonde beer), tostada (a darker, maltier beer), and a non-alcoholic version that are always served cold and fresh, either from the bar or from your own table tap.

3. Cervezorama (calle San Andrés, 29, metro: Bilbao)
http://www.cervezorama.es

Sometimes you’d rather sit at home with your tasty beer, and this is where Cervezorama comes in. This self-proclaimed “Delicatessen Beer Shop” in Malasaña carries beer by the bottle from a few different countries, most notably Germany, Belgium, and the United States. The staff there are extremely knowledgeable and can answer any of your questions, as well as suggest beers for you to try based on your tastes. Cervezorama also carries ingredients and instructional guides needed to brew your own beer at home, and often hold meet-ups with home brewers in the area. In addition to brewer meet-ups, the shop sometimes holds beer tastings, or catas, so for a small price you can sample different brews and get to know some other Madrid beer aficionados. While you’re there, try one of the new beers by Fábrica Maravillas, an up-and-coming Madrid microbrewery with a bright future.

Of course, there are many other places in town where you can find international beers on tap, including the many Irish bars in town. But when you’re feeling in the mood for something other than Mahou, Guinness, or Heineken, stop by one of the above bars and enjoy. If you have a favorite spot to try international beers that isn’t mentioned above, please let us know in the comments. Cheers!

Source: http://guiriguidetomadrid.com/a-treat-for-...

Introducing a new Guiri: Shana Solarte

In 2009, the summer before my last year of university, I went abroad for the first time and came to Madrid on a study trip through my school’s foreign language department. We discussed colloquialisms, studied art in museums and streets, and learned a whole lot about what the inside of Spanish bars looked like. Somewhere between my first incredible glimpse of Guernica and my last caña before heading back to the States in July, I realized that I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough of this city.

That summer was spent attempting to cover as much ground as possible. We took day trips to nearby towns and weekend trips to not-so-nearby towns. I ate a lot of jamón and learned that I really love salmorejo and huevos rotos. At the end of the program, I had a few days between the end of classes and my return flight to the States, so I found a cheap flight to Rome. When I came back to Madrid to spend one last day in town and catch my plane, I felt so at home that I cried from my window seat as we circled over the city.

Fast-forward about four months. A high school friend of mine living in Murcia sent me some information about her English teaching program and I immediately knew what my post-grad plans would be. In September 2010, after a long summer of work and anticipation, I once again set foot on Spanish soil and felt as if I’d never left.

Since returning, I’ve been working in a bilingual primary school outside the city with the sweetest students and coworkers I’ve ever encountered. I am certainly still as crazy about this place as I was just a few years ago–a sunset over Gran Vía still takes my breath away. I recently discovered this quote about Madrid in a Lonely Planet book, written by LP author Anthony Ham:

There will come a moment while you’re in Madrid when you will fall irreversibly in love with this beguiling city and wonder how you can bear to live elsewhere. It might strike you at 3am when you spill onto impossibly crowded streets from a bar in Chueca. Or it could happen as you wander amid the masterpieces of the Museo del Prado. But it will happen because this is a city that creeps up on you, weaves its way into your soul and then sings happily into your ear.

I couldn’t agree more.

Day tripping: Chinchón

Well, it's been almost a month since I came back to Madrid after being home for two great weeks at Christmas. Since my return, I've been lying pretty low, just going to work, spending time with my friends on the weekends, and of course trying to plan my next trip to wherever. In this downtime, I get to enjoy what Madrid has to offer! On Saturday, my friend Meg and I decided to take a day trip to a nearby town called Chinchón.

There isn't too much to see and do there, but it did have a cool circular Plaza Mayor. We stopped into the tourist information office and saw a funny bat-shaped flyer for a restaurant called the Mesón Quiñones that boasted free entry to some bat caves, with available desgustación de vinos (wine tasting). We'd expected to find pretty cheap lunch menus in this small pueblo, but restaurants were about on par with Madrid prices in the Plaza Mayor, so we opted for a cheap lunch just a bit outside the very center, grabbed an ice cream, and headed out in search of the bat caves.

A quick glance at a map of Chinchón showed that we weren't far from the restaurant claiming to have bat caves. We walked up a few hills and around a few corners to discover that not only does this restaurant actually have some caves under it, but it is also the only restaurant we saw in Chinchón above the Plaza Mayor, save for two oddly-decorated "Irish" bars. We weren't really sure how to go about finding the caves, so we just walked in, and sure enough just across from the bar there were some stairs down into poorly-lit, slightly creepy caves. There was a small group of people heading out as we came in who told us to stop by the bar to have some wine and a snack. Our 1€ wines came with a small pincho and we got to keep our little glasses!

The odd sixteen year-old waiter working behind the bar wanted to speak to us in English, making a lot of mistakes, but he told us to feel free to take a walk around and eventually was nice enough to take a picture of us in the caves (hence why the photo is so dark). Once we finished our wines, we went back out into the town to walk around for a bit longer before having a seat in the Plaza Mayor to watch the little kids go around on donkeys and in little carriages. All of this, of course, was accompanied by some cañas while the unseasonably warm January sun baked just above our heads.

Angry Expat re-post

Hey everyone, I know I owe you all a post about Amsterdam, but this is an important issue that I want to spread the word about. I don't have the best things to say about the program I work for, I just lucked out by getting placed in a fantastic school that looks out for me when issues like this come up. A lot of people in my program are not getting paid even though we come here with student visas that do not allow us to find other work legally. Liz, a fellow auxiliar living in Logroño, La Rioja, has written a post about how we are quickly approaching the holidays and she still has not been paid for the last three months of work she's done.

"As most of you already know, I am in Spain on a teaching grant from the Spanish Ministry of Education called Auxiliares de Conversación or English Language and Culture Assistants. I wrote this long blog post last March with my thoughts on the program. So much has changed since then, and now I am going to tell you what I really think. I would say about 95% of people who do this program do it because they want to live in Spain. Not because they want to be teachers, not because they want teaching experience, not to help little children learn about English language and culture. Sure, that may be part of it, but I bet you the main reason is because they want to live in Spain, and it's one of the only ways to live legally in Spain as an American. And you know what? The Spanish government takes FULL advantage of that.

Our contract says that we are to work 12 hours a week and be paid 700 euros a month as a stipend from October 1 to May 31. Really awesome, right? The program also tells us that we should come with about $1000 saved up to live off of for the first month until we get paid at the end of the first month, around November 1. However, it is almost Christmas and many of the auxiliares around Spain have still not been paid. The program has been around for years, and yet, this issue comes up every year. Not with every region, but for many. Last year in Andalucía, my school just paid me every month and then kept the checks when they finally arrived from the government, but after all the budget cuts going on, few schools are willing to do this. After so many years, how can the Ministry of Education still be so disorganized?

Thousands of foreigners come to Spain every year with this scholarship, it is not a small group of people who is affected. And thousands more apply and don't even get a spot. This program has become extremely popular, especially in the States as an ideal post-college pre-real world second study-abroad opportunity. The Ministry of Education knows this and knows how much we want to be here, and I think they take advantage of that by making us put up with a lot of bureaucratic bull****, knowing that we can't and won't do anything about. Not getting paid for 3 months? It's not like we'll stop working and go home. We can't even afford a flight since we've used all our savings to live off of. Want to complain to someone about it? The majority of government don't answer their phones or emails. Ever."

Read the rest of Liz's post at her blog, Memoirs of a Young Adventuress.

What do you guys think? I've been lucky that my school can afford to pay me and the other assistant out of pocket while they wait for the government to reimburse them, but the fact is that they just should not have to do that. We'll see what happens...

It's beginning to look a lot like...

...Christmas!!! Finally! It's Christmas time in Madrid and I could not be happier. Christmas is and has always been my favorite time of the year, because it really is The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. And this year, I am even more excited than I usually am, because this year I'm going home! Living away from my family in Chicago is something I've done since I was five years old, so for me, December comes, school lets out, and I go to Chicago for the holidays. It's normal, it's my tradition, and I love it. But last year, I didn't go home. Mom came to visit me, and we had a great time, but we both decided that it just wasn't the same... so away I go!

To begin the holiday season, at work we celebrate Día del Maestro, and in our school we celebrate in style. Our lunch began just after school ended last Monday and we all got to eat lots of delicious Spanish foods while we talked and discussed our patron saint of teachers. Like last year, we are again playing Amigo Invisible, or Secret Santa. In this lunch we drew names, and the game starts tomorrow! This is one of the things I will miss the  most about this school. There's such a buen rollo there. We all get along and enjoy staying at school until five or six in the afternoon just to hang out and have a good time.

On Sunday, a few of my friends came to my house for an early Christmas party. We also played Secret Santa - my friend Emma got me a few key pieces that every good hostess should have: a cute tray, napkins, tea, and a cute cupcake-shaped sugar dish. Everybody brought something to eat (I made mulled wine and spinach cups), we exchanged gifts, and watched Christmas movies all night. I think being of the Friends generation, I always imagined this was what "growing up" would be like.

Now there are only fifteen days between me and heading home for Christmas. How am I handling the wait? Well, on Thursday I'll head to Amsterdam for a long weekend (thank you, Spanish holidays) and then I'll come back to a week of work, a weekend of shopping for presents, and a trip or two on the Navibus, I'm sure. To help you guys aguantar until Christmas, check out my video from last year's lights and fireworks:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVzCliL1Pwk&w=560&h=315]

...and some photos from this year's Christmas decorations:

[slideshow]

Felices Fiestas!

Thanksgiving 2011

A few weeks ago, my work friends eagerly asked me when Thanksgiving would fall this year, due largely in part to the success of last year's celebration. So once again, the fourth Thursday in November came, and we got together again to enjoy a large, delicious, all-American meal.

This year we held the dinner at my friend Lidia's house in Alcalá de Henares, a small town outside Madrid and just next door to the town where we all work. When the turkey was cooking away in the oven we took some time to enjoy a pre-dinner snack and drinks. Lidia is from a small pueblo outside Granada, and ever the granadina, she opened her fridge and offered us three different types of Cerveza Alhambra, to be opened with an Alhambra-marked bottle opener, and to be served in Mezquita glasses. María referred to this as "Lidiasgiving." Lucky for me, Alhambra is my favorite of the widely-available Spanish beers, second only to Moritz, a beer from Barcelona and only available in Catalán-influenced areas. Bummer.

Anyway. A few Alhambras and potato chips later, dinner was ready. Again, I was in charge of the kitchen, and for dinner we ended up with a 3kg (6.6lb) turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and vegetables for eight people. There were, of course, lots of leftovers. The turkey this year came out much better than last year, and I think it was because of the difference in size. The giant turkey last year was overwhelming and I overcooked it a bit...not so this year. Also, I managed to make gravy that wasn't a slimy mess! Hurrah!

My most impressive feat, however, was making a pumpkin pie. I went to Taste of America, an import shop in Madrid, and bought a pie tin, evaporated milk, and a can of packed pumpkin. Wednesday night, I very carefully followed the recipe and came out with this beauty:

Not bad for my first attempt! Everyone seemed to really like it. Unfortunately, even making my own pie couldn't convince me that pumpkin was worth eating, and I still hate it. Oh well. As we began dinner, my friend Mirella asked if I was going to say anything before we ate, so I raised my glass and proposed a toast. I told them, "even though I'm sad to be so far from home and away from family on Thanksgiving, estoy en casa y estoy con familia."

Basque-ing

Puente - Spanish for "bridge," a puente is the word used to describe a regular weekend made longer by connecting it to a bank holiday on, for example, a Tuesday. In this case, my weekend was connected to Tuesday, the first of November, or All Saints Day, giving me and my friend Jessie four days to head up north and discover San Sebastián and Bilbao.

Stop #1 was San Sebastián, or in the local language, Donostia. This small beach town was super charming and full of history. When we climbed to the top of Monte Urgull, between the Bahía de La Concha and playa Zurriola (closest to our hostel) we got to visit a small exhibition within a giant statue dedicated to el Sagrado Corazón de Jesús full of history about País Vasco and Donostia.

Our hostel experience here was...odd. We arrived to find the owners of the hostel (a married couple) welcoming us with mini croissants and a chocolate bar, and the guy, Jaime, dressed in a stage turban, winter coat, sweatpants, black socks, and white jelly shoes. He referred to himself as the Sultan of Karpukala (apparently he'd recently been in some sort of play or something) and eventually posed for a photo in the middle of the tiny room with us. The "hostel" was nothing more than a room in the couple's house where they'd installed three-story bunkbeds. We chose this place because it was the cheapest hostel with availability, and though it was really strange, we were lucky to be sharing the room with a group of really nice people who made the stay that much better.

While in Donostia, we basically walked all over the entire town, stopping only for the occasional coffee or ice cream. We took a lot of photos on Monte Urgull and in the old town on our first day out, but unfortunately it was really overcast until our tourism day came to an end. On our last day in Donostia it was warm and sunny, so we just sat on some giant wavebreaker rocks in Zurriola, soaking up the sun before we had to catch a bus to our next stop.

Bilbao (Bilbo) is probably most well known for the Guggenheim museum. One of the travel books I read said that one could refer to history in Bilbao as BG and AG - Before & After Guggenheim. Apparently the construction of the museum really changed everything there, transforming it from an industrial district to a modern and diverse riverside city.

On our last morning in Bilbao, we took the funicular de Artxanda and got to see some incredible views of the city, the river, and the surrounding landscape. The old town in Bilbao was cute, and the Guggenheim was impressive, but this was my favorite part of the trip. Seeing a city in a valley surrounded by cloud-covered mountains reminded me so much of Boone. Of course, in Boone they don't speak Euskera... I only learned hello and goodbye (kaixo/agur) and thank you (eskerrik). Even though the signs were all in Euskera, they were also in Castellano, and everyone in Donostia and Bilbo speaks Castellano as well, so I didn't have any trouble getting around... just didn't get to learn any cool new words or phrases. Bummer.

In writing about Euskadi (Basque Country), pintxos must be mentioned. Pintxos are similar to tapas in that they are a small delicious snack to accompany your drinks, but pintxos differ from tapas in that they include a pincho - Spanish for spike - that is usually a toothpick holding the toppings together on a slice of bread, while tapas could be almost anything. You could look at it this way: pintxos can always be considered tapas, but tapas can't always be pintxos. Squares and rectangles.

We ate lots and lots of pintxos at every possible opportunity. I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Delicious!

Click here to see the rest of my photos from a weekend in the Basque Country.