We stayed in a groovy hotel right in the middle of where the nightlife is (Hotel Castillo de Javier). Since we're friends, I'll also recommend a great tapas bar that isn't in the guidebooks (Meson Pirineo) and has a mostly local clientele. Susan and I have are becoming pretty discerning about our tapas and this place is probably the best we've seen. The Basques make the best tapas, in our opinion. When you're looking for tapas anywhere in Spain, try to find a place with a Basque connection. The Basques call their tapas "pinxos" (pronounced "peenchos") and that's the word to look for.
The next morning we headed up to the Atlantic coast. This area of Spain reminds me of northern California. There are lush mountains covered with towering forests running right down to the ocean. There is abundant rain here and the light is clear and gentle. Everything looks freshly scrubbed and the architecture is reminiscent of Switzerland.
We stayed in a modern hotel next to the beach. The town is called Orio and, like almost all of coastal Spain, it's been pretty developed. The beach was mostly deserted, however, and there was a hiking path up to the headlands where we walked through forests and meadows overlooking the Bay of Biscay.
Susan decided we should swim and we did for about three minutes. Needless to say, we were the only ones in the water and the few witnesses on the beach were suitably impressed. It wasn't as cold as I expected. Susan kept saying "It's not as cold as Barton Springs!" but, then again, it also wasn't 100 F outside.
We walked to Orio in the rain that night for dinner. Francesc had recommended we find a restaurant that grilled fish outside. We did. They brought us a huge fish and a loaf of bread for dinner and that was it. The fish is called "besugo" and it's basically the same fish known in the Gulf as sheepshead. It was dressed with lemon scented olive oil, sea salt and cloves of roasted garlic. We cleaned the platter.
On Sunday morning, we slept in and then took the train into San Sebastian. It was a forty minute ride through sleepy little stations, vegetable gardens and fern covered glades. We arrived just in time to see the end of a 10k run along the beach. It was a beautiful day and there were lots of people out and about. We walked almost the entire length of the beach and headed back inland toward the train station. We covered close to five miles and stopped into half a dozen cafes for pinxos and refreshment. It was a traditional urban Spanish afternoon.
While in Orio, we met Joel Buton (see photos). When I first spotted him and his rig, I took him for your standard issue bipolar homeless dude. The sign on his rig says he's walking fifty thousand kilometers across Europe as a protest against land mines and in favor of world peace. During our stay in Orio, I saw him push the rig back and forth between the bar and the beach a few times. I remember thinking it's going to take a lot of trips to make 50,000 kilometers that way. I visited with him a little while and discovered he isn't quite as crazy as he looks. He told me he was going on to San Sebastian the next day. Sure enough, as we were leaving Orio, there was Joel, like Sisyphus, pushing his cart up a steep hill heading out of town. You can Google search "Joel Buton" for more info.
Susan has a guide book that mentioned there are Celtic dolmens between San Sebastian and Pamplona. We decided to check them out since there is also a 13th century monastery in the area. We pulled off the autopista and drove up into some fog shrouded mountains. We turned and twisted our way up the narrow roads; not exactly sure what a dolmen was supposed to look like. We saw a young man in a forest ranger outfit and asked him for help.
He gave us directions (see photo below). In my opinion, the Celts must have had other things on their minds than architecture. We continued up to the monastery of San Miquel Arcangel. It's a magnificent mountaintop church with a celebrated view. The church was fabulous indeed but the whole mountain was covered in fog. It was cool in a way that foggy places can be and we were there alone.
As we drove back down the mountain, the sun began to peek through in places. There were wildflowers and grazing cows and deeply shadowed groves of old trees. Pretty sweet.
As always, we were happy to find ourselves back in El Masroig late in the afternoon.
The next morning we headed up to the Atlantic coast. This area of Spain reminds me of northern California. There are lush mountains covered with towering forests running right down to the ocean. There is abundant rain here and the light is clear and gentle. Everything looks freshly scrubbed and the architecture is reminiscent of Switzerland.
We stayed in a modern hotel next to the beach. The town is called Orio and, like almost all of coastal Spain, it's been pretty developed. The beach was mostly deserted, however, and there was a hiking path up to the headlands where we walked through forests and meadows overlooking the Bay of Biscay.
Susan decided we should swim and we did for about three minutes. Needless to say, we were the only ones in the water and the few witnesses on the beach were suitably impressed. It wasn't as cold as I expected. Susan kept saying "It's not as cold as Barton Springs!" but, then again, it also wasn't 100 F outside.
We walked to Orio in the rain that night for dinner. Francesc had recommended we find a restaurant that grilled fish outside. We did. They brought us a huge fish and a loaf of bread for dinner and that was it. The fish is called "besugo" and it's basically the same fish known in the Gulf as sheepshead. It was dressed with lemon scented olive oil, sea salt and cloves of roasted garlic. We cleaned the platter.
On Sunday morning, we slept in and then took the train into San Sebastian. It was a forty minute ride through sleepy little stations, vegetable gardens and fern covered glades. We arrived just in time to see the end of a 10k run along the beach. It was a beautiful day and there were lots of people out and about. We walked almost the entire length of the beach and headed back inland toward the train station. We covered close to five miles and stopped into half a dozen cafes for pinxos and refreshment. It was a traditional urban Spanish afternoon.
While in Orio, we met Joel Buton (see photos). When I first spotted him and his rig, I took him for your standard issue bipolar homeless dude. The sign on his rig says he's walking fifty thousand kilometers across Europe as a protest against land mines and in favor of world peace. During our stay in Orio, I saw him push the rig back and forth between the bar and the beach a few times. I remember thinking it's going to take a lot of trips to make 50,000 kilometers that way. I visited with him a little while and discovered he isn't quite as crazy as he looks. He told me he was going on to San Sebastian the next day. Sure enough, as we were leaving Orio, there was Joel, like Sisyphus, pushing his cart up a steep hill heading out of town. You can Google search "Joel Buton" for more info.
Susan has a guide book that mentioned there are Celtic dolmens between San Sebastian and Pamplona. We decided to check them out since there is also a 13th century monastery in the area. We pulled off the autopista and drove up into some fog shrouded mountains. We turned and twisted our way up the narrow roads; not exactly sure what a dolmen was supposed to look like. We saw a young man in a forest ranger outfit and asked him for help.
He gave us directions (see photo below). In my opinion, the Celts must have had other things on their minds than architecture. We continued up to the monastery of San Miquel Arcangel. It's a magnificent mountaintop church with a celebrated view. The church was fabulous indeed but the whole mountain was covered in fog. It was cool in a way that foggy places can be and we were there alone.
As we drove back down the mountain, the sun began to peek through in places. There were wildflowers and grazing cows and deeply shadowed groves of old trees. Pretty sweet.
As always, we were happy to find ourselves back in El Masroig late in the afternoon.
