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| Biarritz France to Bilbao Spain - |
Driving the free coast road from Biarritz to the Spanish border has to be one of my favourite drives that I have done in the last twelve months. Gorgeous views of the ocean, rolling hills and dramatic cliffs easily can easily distract the driver and of course the bicycle riders sharing the road if you are not indeed pragmatic. We rolled over the Spanish border into Basque Country without any pomp or circumstance fortunately and passed by the bus stop that I once sat at two years ago outside of Donostia San Sebastian airport when waiting for the scheduled bus to the city of San Sebastian that never came. How times have changed I pondered as I left the empty bus stop in my rearview mirror and motored down the highway toward San Sebastian.
After luckily ditching the motorcar near the beach for free, I was able to then play the role of a competent tour guide for a walking tour around the city. I previously visited this city of culinary delights two years ago on my first sojourn through Europe. Again, where has the time gone? It shouldn't have taken two years to return to San Sebastian, let alone Spain. Pressing on, we wandered through Old Town and kept our eyes on the statue of Christ who was looking down on us whilst perched atop of the hill, knowing that if we walked up the path to touch it, we would be a sweaty mess, much like I remember being when I last took on that challenge. We came across an air-conditioned pastry shop and my mouth started to water. Fruit tarts, chocolate and coffee were enjoyed before waving San Sebastian a fond farewell. When I originally planned this journey, I wanted to stay in San Sebastian for a few days but the cost of lodging was out of control as everyone else in Europe it would seem had the same idea so for this part of the trip, I have delayed an extended visit. Besides, there is so much more to see in Spain.
After a quick jaunt along the motorway, we were on the Isla de San Anton in Getaria. With its popular beaches, parking near the old town on the hill was so dramatic, I was forced to abandon the motorcar illegally on a wharf, blocking in some old boat on a trailer that had flat tyres. With the cobwebs on the wheels, I didn't think it was going anywhere anytime soon and it was in such an awkward place I was gambling that the parking police wouldn't bother visiting this out of the way area that was oddly convenient to access the restaurant we had a lunch booking at, Txoko.
When I first started to plan this excursion at a high-level, I knew that I wanted to visit Spain. Seafood is always on my mind and what better place to source it than coastal Spanish towns? Then I saw the movie "The Trip to Spain" which stars Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan and knew that I not only needed to visit Getaria in Basque Country but also this restaurant as, well, they dined there and seemed to have a good time. We did too as we stuffed our faces with grilled pulpo octopus and later a lobster paella. It was easy to drink my share of two pitchers of house sangria and would have kicked on if I didn't have to drive off the wharf. I got caught out speaking bad Spanish simply because, after two weeks in France, I was thinking about how to say things in French before translating them in my mind to Spanish. The server had a good laugh, especially when I said that I am happy to be in Spain, and not Basque Country. Much like in Catalonia, there is a huge separatist movement in the region. It just reminded me to be as politically correct as possible.
Feeling a bit tired and stuffed, we continued down the coast road towards Bilbao. Like with the segment of road between Biarritz and the Spanish (Basque) border, this drive is equally spectacular. Isolated beaches, more dramatic cliffs and remarkably green rolling hills - and because it was Sunday the roads were all but abandoned and the drive was enjoyed for a change with the air conditioning on full blast.
Arriving in Bilbao at nearly 5:00 PM on the dot meant that we had to immediately ditch the motorcar in secure underground parking and find a bar that was showing the World Cup final. I was impressed to find schooners of Heineken for an inexpensive 2.5€ which took away my sense of thirst which was carried over from lunch. When France inevitably scored, I controlled my sense of jubilation since nobody else cheered or batted an eyelid. Was I really in a bar filled with Croatian fans or did everyone just support anyone but France, which was a running theme amongst England supporters? After the sixth beer and feeling drunk, neither of us cared much and we cheered when France won, mainly because the roughest of the crowd had gone outside to smoke a pack of cigarettes. It turned out to be a fun and well-rounded Sunday that will put a smile on my face when I think back for many years to come.
Now for a few days in Bilbao, Basque Country.
