Spain’s Basque Region

 

The moment you enter the Basque region you sense the change. We were here for less than a week so what we notice are surface things such as the dual languages on places and businesses of the practical things we experience. Lots more x’s and k’s, for example. But there’s also a sense that natives of the region have a feeling of otherness that runs much deeper. Our guide book gives a taste of the meaning of it, but the graffiti makes it palpable. 

Our photos here (i for information)

Bilbao

The closest available campground was in the town of Sopela, over an hour from Bilbao by walking and public transportation, because the closer one had been taken over for a weekend music event that was still being dismantled. After driving into Sopela and settling into the campsite, we did chores and noted that the campground restaurant opened for lunch at 1:30, then closed at 4 and reopened at 8:30 for dinner.  Sigh. We ate our grocery store finds for dinner, then walked steeply down to the beach. Even after 8 pm, there were lots of surfers catching good waves and families enjoying the beautiful ocean, sand and great weather. 

The trip into Bilboa took us over an hour but we were instantly greeted by a city pulsing with energy and presided over by impressive architecture. We had timed entry tickets for the Guggenheim Museum for 1 pm but I couldn’t help being stopped in my tracks by the gorgeous festooned facades of belle epoch buildings and equally arresting structures of various styles with elegant balconies. We got a light lunch at a vegetarian/coffee shop, but this being Spain, they had a ham option for Dermot. 

Museo Guggenheim Bilbao is an incredible building designed by Frank Gehry. The exterior soars and dips with twisting planes of gleaming silver scales. My photos and words, of course, don’t do it justice. A video in the museum shows how this site, that used to be an industrial wasteland, was transformed into a beautiful architectural showpiece. The exterior even has many sculptures, one is covered in blossoms and known as “Puppy.”

The whole museum is designed to provide expansive spaces required by modern installation art as well as more blocky traditional spaces. The permanent collection is filled with wonderful, thought-provoking art. There are pictures in the album and here’s the QR code for those who want more. 

I’ve also included a brief video of the immersive audiovisual installation called “Living Architecture: Gehry.” The installation had the biggest audience in the whole museum. People were sitting on couches and even lying on the floor watching. I’ve also including a photo of the explanation. I was mesmerized. Based on the viewers’ expressions of both wonderment and zen, I’d say it’s either mind control, or the favored place to go when you’re stoned or maybe it’s both.

We then strolled along the river which was thirsty work on this warm day so we headed for an Irish pub that Google maps said was open. Yet again, the Irish will not be dictated to by posted hours and it was closed. So we found another bar on a crowded street for our rest. While sipping on cider and beer we consulted our guide books and maps for the best places for pintxos (like tapas) - many of which are in a square in the historic part of town.

The plan was to go to several places ordering a small drink and two pintxos at each. Calamari was the speciality recommended by the guide at the first place we visited so we got that and one which was a quiche base. The calamari was perfect and such a large serving that we were too full for more! 

All roads in the historic area seem to lead to the cathedral. The buildings around it were in various styles but many were beautiful. Just check out the pictures!

Though we’d looked some time ago we missed out on booking a ferry straight from Spain to the U.K. which meant this last bit of the trip went from a smooth sail to a crush of planning.  Note that it’s the highest part of the high season, so our travel style of no reservations proved to be a detriment. We searched for a campsite in the recommended town of Donostia-San Sebastián (two names, one is Basque) and several alternatives without success until we found one outside the fishing village of Lekeito.

The drive there was through a winding road.  Instead of touring the pretty town we ended up spending the day doing more research and making reservations but we did get a picture of it as we drove through and from high above.

The rest of the pictures in the album were of small Basque towns taken drive-by style from the passenger seat. 

Spain’s North Coast

 

Gijón

When we reentered Spain, we found ourselves in a new time zone where it was still twilight at 10 pm. Spaniards are known for their late dining habits, and we’ve been struggling to adjust. Restaurants in these cities are more than happy to serve you a variety of alcoholic drinks pretty much anytime, but the kitchen doesn’t open until 8 pm. Well played, Spain.

Our photos here

Gijón (Pronounced “hee-HON,” like the old comedy show or a donkey bray)

With its miles of promenades stretching both west and east of the city and a vast bay surrounded by beaches, locals and tourists alike are out enjoying this lovely city. The coast near our campground was a rocky cliff right on the promenade, offering us a view of the water and beautiful sunsets. We saw people climbing on the rocks, snorkeling, and a few paddle boarders. Bathing suit tops seem to be optional, so if you don’t want to see nudity, don’t zoom in on the beach/cliff photos.

We toured the museum of the excavated Roman baths and had a nice relaxing lunch in a restaurant overlooking the water. The region is famous for its cider, and I got a bottle labeled “natural,” which was definitely on the dry side with a hint of vinegar.

The old town has lots of beautiful old buildings and the ruins of what were once Roman defense walls, with a few dragons thrown in for fun. With lots of green spaces, wonderful public art, and great weather, this looks like a fun city to live in.

San Vicente de la Barquera

Tower top with seagull

The water, beaches, boats, town, and mountains combine into a postcard-worthy setting. Unfortunately, the town is so tourist-oriented that the few truly historical sights we saw didn’t redeem it for us. We had a nice walk into town from the packed campsite and then killed some time in a bar until the fort reopened at 5:30. From the top of the fort tower, we watched seagulls use the air currents to rise quickly up the steep ascent from the water level along the town and fort walls to gain altitude for their next dive. This place is a better fit for those wanting to learn to surf or enjoy the beaches in the protected bay than for us.

Santander

Santander has seen its share of booms and busts, as we learned from the audio on our Hop-on-hop-off bus. It was ravaged by a massive fire in 1941. Lonely Planet states, “Tragic at the time, the disaster gave urban planners the rare opportunity of redesigning for a new era, ultimately raising the city to a level that provokes envy among the rest of the nation. Stroll more than 7km of oceanfront promenades, walk through the wealthy upper reach, or thread through bars of young entrepreneurs.”

Google Maps simply didn’t give us information on bus routes from our campsite, but the Hop on/off took us for spins around what it thought were the highlights with longish stops which made for slow progress. It was a different kind of exploring for us, but it worked okay. 

One of the most intriguing things about this city was the very graphic depiction of the city saints whose heads are shown alternately in a basket (carved in stone on the entrance) and encased in silver. 

In addition, there were carved stone heads looking down over the pews from the post capitals that are positively creepy. 

Why is this guy smirking and holding a knife?

Would having these guys staring down at you help you tap into your spirituality? Must have given the kids nightmares.

Here’s the Google translation of the information provided:

“The Arrival of the Martyrs’ Heads

Shortly after the Arab invasion in 711, people from the Riojan city of Calahorra came to Cantabria and brought, to the place that would later be called Santander, their most prized relics: the heads of Saints Emeterius and Celedonius, martyred there around the year 300. The movement responded to the widespread phenomenon of the population of the Meseta watered by the Duero and the lands of the Ebro being forced to retreat to the northern mountains, fleeing Muslim domination.

In 1533, as a reaction by the Catholic world to Protestantism, the martyrdom tomb in the church of Santander suffered a pious desecration, during which the remains of the saints were found under the altar located in the Gospel nave. The silver reliquaries in which the heads are preserved date from the Renaissance and Baroque periods. Other relics preserved at the site correspond to the arm of Saint Germán, from the late 16th century, and a fragment of the Lignum Crucis.

Arrival of the Heads of the Holy Martyrs in Santander. Façade of the Upper Church. According to Casado Soto.”

You may have come to this blog looking for travel inspiration and instead I give you topless women and headless men.

North-West Spain: More than pilgrims.

Tower of Hercules

Santiago de Compostela 

I’ll admit, I didn’t expect much from Santiago de Compostela. It all starts with the story about how the apostle James’s remains were smuggled into Spain, hidden in a tomb, and then forgotten for nearly 800 years until a hermit found them right about the time when religious zeal was needed to defeat the Moors.  

Annunciation sculptures

Today, pilgrims come from all walks of life, each with their own reasons, but it was heartwarming to experience the applause and cheers as they entered the cathedral square. We could hear the festivities while exploring the cathedral museum—highly recommended, especially if you like a good historical mystery with a side of bagpipes.  The photo above features the angel telling Mary she is pregnant with the son of God. Is it just me or does the visibly pregnant Mary seem less than happy with the news and/or the timing of it? 

Our photos here (i for info)

Gaelic influence is strong. The main path to the cathedral leads through a tunnel that amplifies the sound of bagpipe buskers, making it feel like a mini-concert. Dermot even found an Irish connection: the Archbishop of Cashel Thomas Walsh is buried in the cathedral! 

The cathedral and its surroundings boast stunning stone facades that showcase various architectural styles, all harmoniously blended. We snapped some pics at the Cathedral Museum and visited the original 12th-century entrance, the “Portico of Glory,” which now resides inside to keep it safe from the elements. It’s a polychrome masterpiece that’s worth the timed entry ticket, even if you can’t take pictures.

Portico of Glory brochure photo

Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed being a tourist here, despite the crowds of tourists and pilgrims. It’s like a pilgrimage of its own just to navigate the sea of people!

A Coruña

We checked out the Tower of Hercules, a Roman lighthouse from 2 AD that’s still standing tall. Inside, there’s a fascinating room about its history and construction, and the climb to the top is worth it for the views. The surrounding park is a sculpture lover’s dream, with extensive walkways to explore.

Our wander through the old town was a treasure trove of interesting architecture. The modest narrow home pictured is one of the last of its kind, built for fishermen. Many houses have glassed-in balconies, and the waterfront buildings are elegant, though they overlook a port with a cruise ship that’s as charming as a traffic jam.

We ventured into the town center to see City Hall and Maria Pita Square. Finally a city with a female heroine as its symbol! Having worked at City Hall in Orlando, I’m always in awe of the beauty of European city halls and envy those who work there. Then I tell myself their plumbing probably doesn’t work. That’s how I’m using my psychology degree in retirement.

All in all, this is a vibrant city with great weather, plenty of public art, fountains, excellent public transportation, bike paths, and large pedestrian areas. It’s like a utopia for city dwellers, minus the plumbing issues.

Andalusian Hill Towns

 

Zahara

Dermot and I both drive the campervan. I try to drive when we’ll need navigation research enroute because he gets carsick trying to read a screen in a moving vehicle but we trade off. On the way to our chosen home base in the region, I was driving and we started seeing gorgeous hilltop towns. I asked Dermot to see if one of the Rick Steves (RS) recommended towns was not too far off our route to make a detour to see it. Since we’d discussed the choices in the RS book earlier, I thought this would be as simple for him as it would be for me. Nope, seems he’d left the research to me. This set off a round of questions I couldn’t answer as I had to keep my eyes glued to the twisting road with no exits and allot of gnashing of teeth and cursing. We got to Zahara in one piece but not without leaving us both a bit queasy.

Our photos here

Zahara

This small town is perched on a hill under a moorish castle and overlooks a large reservoir. The reservoir was peaceful and full of life but is man-made - it was once just a stream. Dark storm clouds threatened rain so we outfitted ourselves for a drenching but only experienced a brief shower as we climbed up the twisting, narrow streets through the town. Seen from afar, the castle looms far above the white-washed town. Just how cool would it be to look up to a moorish castle from your home everyday? We decided against paying the entrance fee for the town and castle due to time constraints but really enjoyed the views. If you look closely, you can spot our camper between the buildings far below in one shot. 

Arcos de la Frontera

Our campground, Lago de Arcos, was about an hour walking distance outside the town but still not within the public transportation system. Luckily, the camp had a restaurant where we made reservations for the earliest available time: 8:00 pm. We hung out at the bar for the free WiFi and posted a blog while we waited. We seated ourselves at the table with our name on it a bit after the reserved time and were ignored for a good 20 minutes while we watched employees enjoying wine and beer and joking with each other. The table next to us was reserved for 9:30 - we silly Americans still hadn’t adjusted to eating on Spanish time. 

The RS guide warned us not to start the Arcos de la Frontera walk during the midday siesta. So we spent it doing chores, resting and researching where to park outside of the old town with its too narrow streets. It was 7 by the time we made it into town and the churches and many spots on the walk were closed. We got drinks at a hotel with terrace just to take in the view. 

There are Roman columns at the corners of many buildings, moved long ago from their origins to save the corners from being damaged by donkey carts. We continued the walk but stopped for delicious tapas in a small square outside a convent. The shrimp wrapped in crispy potato and the fried seafood plate were delicious. 

Our campground gates close at 10 so we had to cut our visit short. It was a good thing Dermot insisted on leaving a margin of error because we were bedeviled by a big celebration and many roads were closed for the occasion. Reaching one road closure sign and barricade. Dermot had two police on motorcycles behind him. He felt pressured to get out of their way so rather than trying to turn around, he passed the stopped car in front of him and went around the barricade. His logic escaped me; we escaped getting a ticket but it took us a very long time to escape the town after that.

The pictures at the end of the album were taken as we drove out of the area but if you look up the town I’m sure you’ll find better ones online.

Next stop: Portugal

From Costa Cálida to Costa del Sol

 

Frigiliana

Cartagena

The drive along the coastal regions was scenic in many areas but the last stretch was through a mountainous area where we found our chosen campsite to be too secluded from grocery stores and too difficult to reach the city. So we headed right back through the mountains to Area Autocaravanas Cartagena. 

Our photos here

We were happy with our choice which put us in a suburb with stores, restaurants and public transportation in easy walking distance and only cost €15 per night. Cartagena is jam-packed with historical sites. We visited the museum preserving the defensive walls built by the Cartheginians, the impressive Roman theater, and the port as well as several ruins we just happened on.

 Cartegena is known for having graceful architecture in the Modernista style - heavily influenced by Gaudi. The façades of these lovely buildings have graceful balconies and are nearly dripping with twining plant and flower motifs as well as colorful ceramics. 

The Roman Forum far exceeded our expectations both in the size and quality of the conservation as well as the explanations in English. Their baths were incredible - they featured every temperature from a cold plunge pool to a sauna and spaces to socialize. We remarked it would have been far better than the gym we pay for monthly and they were free to the public.

Many times we noted the apartments that overlooked these incredible sites. Can you imagine having a Roman theater or forum as your everyday view?!

We capped the day off by heading to a tapas bar set in an entire block of restaurants flanked by a plaza which included a playground where children played while their parents relaxed at tables.  Our camp host had explained that this area was dominated by and made for locals so the prices were typical (not tourist prices). Dermot chose a dish that translated to breaded chicken burger with fries and was disappointed by the pink color and decided lack of chicken taste. I chose the house’s signature salad partially because it included “bocas de mar” which translates to “mouths of the sea” and curiosity got the better of me. It was fairly tasty but nearly drowned in Russian dressing. By process elimination, I determined that bocas de mar was surimi. Their version is made of a very thin layer of a white substance that’s pink on one side. It’s rolled and sliced into logs and tasted slightly of crab, or so I imagined. Your guess is as good as mine as to what inspired the name. When the check came, the server put down a plate which held two shots of Irish Cream and said “for you” with a big smile. We were blown away by this thoughtful gesture. For context, the bill for a bottle of beer and one of cider plus two meals was only €18.80. They knew we were tourists and unlikely to come again and there had been no mention of Irish background. Tourists are not always welcome visitors but we felt welcome here. Not a squirt gun in sight.

Nerja and Frigiliana

The drive to Nerja included some pretty seaside cities but then changed to literally miles and miles of greenhouses covered with white plastic. They must grow an immense amount of produce there!

We returned to Camping Cortijo San Miguel (where we stayed in 2019) and enjoyed its beautiful landscaping but not the fluctuating shower temperature. 

Though there was a sand beach in walking distance we biked into town for dinner. Actually, we biked only until hitting the town where we chose walking with bikes along crowded sidewalks over biking on the roads for the most part because I didn’t trust my biking skills and prefer to live. 

We ate at a Cuban restaurant where Dermot got Ropa Vieja which was made with beef, included crispy cassava, some salad and was very tasty. 

We were surprised it was made with beef rather than pork but learned the dish originated in Spain and the meat used varies regionally. I got a salmon, tomato and avocado salad which was good but also surprised me by the lack of other salad-type ingredients. The owner had a big smile for all his customers and sang Cuban songs as he whizzed through the dining room. On our way home we stopped to soak in the ocean views and the ethereal way the sea and sky melded into each other.

Excited to enjoy another Rick Steves guided walk, we biked into town and boarded the packed bus to the hill town of Frigiliana he described as:

“The picturesque whitewashed village of Frigiliana (free-hee-lee-AH-nah), only four miles inland from Nerja, makes for a wonderful side trip. A thousand feet above sea level, full of history, and feeling like it dropped in from the mountains of Morocco, it’s a striking contrast to its beach resort sister.”

— Rick Steves Spain by Rick Steves

https://a.co/7oyndya

We got a map and bus timetable from the TI but were disappointed the museum was closed and we couldn’t get the handout that described the history explained on the tiles inset on buildings around the town. Despite this and google maps we spent a surprising amount of time lost here. 

“The street plan dates to medieval times, when the Moors tucked their village here, high in the hills away from coastal raiders. The whitewash dates to the 18th century, when a plague killed 40 percent of the population. To sterilize the town, everything was burned or slathered in lime to kill the germs. It turned out that the whitewash reflected the sun, keeping things cool. People liked it, and it remains to this day. While houses must be white, the trim is your choice. Enjoy the traffic-free tranquility, small restaurants, big views, and flowers.”

— Rick Steves Spain by Rick Steves

https://a.co/c198LKi

We enjoyed climbing up and through the various levels that seemed to have grown organically rather than being engineered.  There were impressive views at every turn and the moorish influences are still visible in “hand of Fatima” door knockers and the architecture of arches and door shapes. One street used to be the market street “little souk” and was now lined with pots filled with succulents and flowers. Both our lunch and break spots provided beautiful views and shade which was very much appreciated on this hot day. Dermot noticed the tourists here were mostly British and Irish.

Next stop: Andalusian Hill towns