A quick update on my regular life here in the 'bao, we just finished "midterms", if you can call the two one-page tests we had midterms. They still required studying and reviewing of course but they were not the psycho midterms I am used to back at FU, thankfully. The fam is pretty good, Marta had a little pneumonia spell two months ago that is coming back with the communal cold the family has been sharing for a week now, so she was stuck in bed this weekend but is currently in some passionate argument with her mother about something so I think she is feeling much better already. Also, weather has been awful lately, it seems when it is beautiful here it is crappy in the states and then vice versa, so my allergies are going CrAzY right now with all of the pressure and temp adjustments even just throughout the day! Ah well, when in Rome.
Now to the weekend! It started with a lunch date out to El Churro Loco, a Mexican restaurant near the Gugg that had a pretty inexpensive menu del dia for THE BEST vegetarian burrito I've had in a while. I only bought a vegetarian burrito because I knew I would be eating a massive plate of chocolate crepes and then wine later (on the wine tour, keep reading..) so maybe I should try and eat SOME veggies during the week, right? Eh, it may have been a lost cause since I also downed a plate of nachos covered in cheese to myself. Ah well. Back to the timeline, we then booked it over to San Mames bus station to catch the 3:15pm (15:15pm lols) bus to Haro, La Rioja, one of the autonomous communities of Spain (just think of them like the states, with "counties" in some and just cities in others, oh and some are violently terrorizing the capital cities in order to have establish their autonomy as its own country, no biggie).
It was a quick ride, only about an hour or so, and the views were increibles! Once we came around the final mountain passes in La Rioja, the bodegas (vineyards) opened up and and spread across these valley/plains with the huge Pyrenees behind them- so awesome! We made it to Haro and after only a couple wrong turns found ourselves on Bodega Boulevard where there were quite a number of old and new bodegas, all with their own vineyards and brands. Our bodega was called Roda and was relatively new, but it was pretty cool because it mixed the super old school technique of oak barrels (French style, apparently) with these high-tech mashing and fermenting systems. We got to try one of the reserves, and it was decent but the best part was trying some olive oil from Mallorca, an island in Balearic Islands. It tasted like kiwi to me (other peeps said bananas), but not in a gross way, in a very light and fresh way- a bought a bottle for the rents to try with their little dipping bowls so I can't wait to give them that present!
After our tour was over we went back to the city to catch the bus back and grab a drink. I wanted to be fun and daring so I tried an "Irish coffee", and go figure it isn't made with those little "Irish Coffee" creamers or even Baileys for that matter: it was straight up espresso, cream, and Jameson ewwwww. I could barely drink half of it, but at least I can say I tried it? Ugh maybe I'll just stick with "vino tinto, por favor" from now on.
The town was so adorable, it was super tiny and had all these crazy huge egret-type birds swooping about, and making these ginormous nests on every building. It was kind of like Jurassic Park, actually, so that was neat. And then the bus back to Bilbao was nearly empty so I got to sit right behind the driver (almost creepily, at one point I was hovering directly over his left shoulder...) and watch him drive through the crazy mountain passes and European traffic. Did you know those Greyhound buses have 8 gears? 8! And they also go up to 160km an hour, which is really only like 90 mph but that's still bookin it for a bus.
After passing out early on Friday night, I woke up Saturday and went to Vitoria with Linden for a capital-city adventure. In case you didn't know, which I'm sure most of you don't because even I didn't know Euskadi (Pais Vasco) even existed before coming to Europe, Vitoria is the capital of Euskadi, which is made up of three provinces (one being Vizcaya and it's capital, Bilbao). So we thought it was necessary to see where all these Pais Vasco and ETA (nationalist party) rantings go down. It turns out Vitoria is as small, if not smaller than Bilbao, so we navigated the entire city, including a sit-down meal, in about 3.5 hours.
It was still pretty fun though, so far all of the towns we've visited are either super old in its entirety or else have a Casco Viejo (old quarter, remember?) that has buildings over 150 years old, AT LEAST. So we found that area first and checked out the famous church (under construction, kind of boring), the four towers of that church and the other three churches a few blocks away, and the medieval wall! Too bad the medieval wall is such a tourism fail because the map we had marked it down in the middle of nowhere, except possibly on top of a cat refugee camp thing. Super weird, it just had all the stray cats of Casco Viejo living in an open pit (full of medieval walls, LAME) with cat toys, little houses, etc. No comprendo.
BUT, it was still a great weekend, I've really come to enjoy taking day trips to little cities and pueblos around Bilbao instead of those big (and expensive, ka-CHING) Euro-trips to other major cities and countries. The history buff in me is loving the small towns in Northern Spain almost more than the bigger ones mostly because of the people there. Both times, in Haro and Vitoria, we got lost and needed to ask for directions (the grid pattern wasn't too big in medieval times, I guess), and BOTH TIMES a very friendly Spaniard came up to us and asked what it was we needed to know, and then actually led us in the right direction! They of course spoke no English so the entire conversation in itself was a mini-victory for my Spanish speaking skills, but it goes to show you that the people in these towns are the same people from this place, minus 300 years. They all know each other and go to the local pub to play cards or watch each other's kids, and even the stores themselves have a longer history than my own immediate family. It's great that they all seem so eager to help the blatant tourists find their way around their small towns, and it just makes me love Spain that much more. Of course, this means getting lost in NYC will be a nasty shock when I go to ask someone directions and they spit on my shoes or try and sell me a fake ID or something, but I think I'll just try to enjoy this welcoming atmosphere here as long as possible.
i say the next time you get lost in NYC, speak spanish!!!!
ResponderEliminar