Espaná

Overdue as it is, I can’t let Spain fall by the wayside. It’s hard to sum up the experiences I had in the country of Bull fights, sultry dances and magnificent weather. For me it was on some form of mental pedestal in terms of culture, landscape and atmosphere, and in many respects it rose to the occasion yet I can’t really think of any time that it exceeded. The first stop on the Spanish leg of the trip was San Sebastian, former fishing/fort town, turned tourist Mecca of the north Spanish coast. We caught a train down from Bordeaux and arrived, slightly lost in this lovely little town. Armed with Klaus’ iPhone however we struck off and scored some free wifi that quickly set our feet on the right path. Our Hostel was one San Fermina, right in the heart of San Sebastien’s old town. The street we were on was pretty and reasonably busy during the day, but come night the place was an absolute riot. Literally dozens of Tapas bars were clustered along its surprisingly short length, all of them spilling merry-makers out on to the street to perch on high stools around little tables or to just find a nearby step to sit and talk on. A common practice was as wander from bar to bar, getting just one or two items and a beer before striking out into the balmy, light filled jovial evening once again to brave the press. This was the vibe that San Sebastian radiated during the night and kept thinly veiled during the day. Our last night was somewhat less tasteful however and resulted in four seedy gentlemen dashing for a 7:30am bus at what can only be described as a shuffle.

Next stop, Barcelona!

Feeling somewhat better that afternoon we arrived in Spain’s second largest and reputedly most exciting city, eventually rolling into our hostel mid afternoon. To be honest my first impression of Barcelona was one of indifference. It was warm, large, kind of pretty but not really Spanish. We headed out on the town a couple of nights, not overly Spanish. Most of the people we were around, not overly Spanish (read Australian). Most of the food we ate, not overly Spanish. Now I know I can’t blame a lot of this on Barcelona, but it was a lot harder to find some Spanish culture here than I was expecting. And certainly not for a reasonable price. Stephen and I went to the food markets just of La Rambla and guess what. Not overly Spanish. Also, our coffee that day was served by a forty year old Chinese man who spoke passable English, but judging by some exchanges with other customers, dismal Spanish. One thing that did feel Spanish across the board however was the weather. All day, every day was blue skies and mid thirties. Having said all this, I was a little dishearten by Barcelona. I was expecting this multicultural, over toured mess, but it’s a little heart breaking to have the romance stolen so brutally.