We awoke on our first morning in Bilbao, not knowing what sort of weather would greet us, the ‘Works of Fiction’ forecasts had all reflected differences of opinion, nothing new there then, I thought to myself, but the main disagreements were not as to whether it would, or would not, rain, more as to how much of the wet stuff would actually fall down upon us. It was also a Sunday, which meant that the majority of shops would be closed, as is pretty much normal here in Spain, but unlike our own area down on the Costa del Sol, these closures also included a large majority of the Cafe/Bars and Restaurants. However, sometimes it pays to have an OCD Buddy, one who had prepared for this in advance, and had fortunately had the foresight to provide a list of around six establishments that would actually be open, where we could at least grab a morsel for breakfast and lunch. We could of course have taken the option of having breakfast in our hotel restaurant but, at €20 ‘each’ for the privilege 😲 for Shazza and I at least, that expense just would not be justified, as I am not really a breakfast sort of person and Shazza is happy with just a bowl of yoghurt and fresh fruit.
I looked out from the large glazed windows on the enclosed balcony, the sky was a little cloudy but the road, pavement and large wide riverside promenade were completely dry. The branches on the trees that lined the riverside were blowing, in what looked like quite a stiff breeze but there were lots of people walking, jogging and cycling and, whilst they were all well wrapped up in outdoor coats or rain jackets, there was no sign of any of them with umbrellas, neither in the up position or being carried, so we got ourselves showered and dressed and headed out into the streets of Bilbao.
Our hotel room directly overlooked the tidal ‘River Nervion’ which eventually flows out into the Bay of Biscay, and was located on the Eastern side of the city, within the ‘Old Town’ district. On the opposite bank was the newer and much larger modern side and, weather permitting, over the next couple of days we would attempt to explore both. But first we needed a little bit of sustenance and this particular morning’s breakfast establishment was, according to ‘Mr Google’, just a short twelve minute stroll away, what he didn’t reveal was that ten minutes of that walk was all uphill, Shazza certainly didn’t rush to thank me for that one 😮💨
It was a very small local back street Cafe, the sort we like, and where a generous slice of warm ‘Tortilla’, accompanied with a chunk of crusty Baguette, and a hot freshly brewed cup of ground coffee beans, cost us €3.50 each and, even I managed to eat, probably due more to the energetic morning walk which had made me have an unaccustomed breakfast appetite. When we had initially arrived at the Cafe it was quite busy, a group of females, comprising of a mixed age group, were all dressed in running gear and wearing some sort of Athletic ‘Bibs’, advertising something that we were unable to interpret, we assumed quite naturally that they were probably participating in some sort of a weekend charity ‘Fun Run’, or perhaps even that they were part of a local community running group, however, we were to discover a little later that morning, the true meaning of those bibs and that it was part of a very much larger Regional event 🤔 Mid way through enjoying our relaxed breakfasts we saw, out of the windows, the first few drops of wet stuff darkening the pavement and road surfaces outside, but we had come prepared, with our rain jackets and hats, although, by pure good luck, by the time we had finished our breakfast’s and paid our bill, it had stopped, perfect timing we both agreed.
We had no real plan of action for the day, other than acknowledging that the weather may play a role in the extent and duration of our explorations, but for those that are regular readers of these rambles, and followers of our mini-adventures, you will know that we just like to wander aimlessly, quite often getting lost down narrow cobbled streets and alleyways, but in doing so, nearly always stumbling across things that provided us with memorable experiences, today would prove to be another one of those days 🤗
We did agree that we would initially remain on ‘our side’ of the river and explore the ‘Old Town’, but you know us, and so that didn’t really mean anything, we would end up where we ended up 🤷♂️ We are not the sort that go hunting out Museums, historical or otherwise, or even Art Galleries, although occasionally we may elect to visit a few, as we do with Cathedrals, Monasteries, Convents and Castles, however, we do like looking at the old style Architecture, and there was plenty of that on offer in the old part of town, we also have a strong tendency to lean more towards the kind of places that provide local delicacies, if you get my drift 😉 with perhaps the odd opportunity, here and there, to partake of some of the more ‘fortified’ refreshments, well it can be thirsty work this exploring lark 😂
From the hillside cafe we made our way back down to the river and decided to just follow the lovely wide promenade walkway. The streets and pavements were much busier now and we saw a local Bilbao TV & Radio Station setting up a platform with cameras and associated recording equipment ? Across the river we could hear the sound of a public address system with loud music emanating from them, frequently interjected by verbal announcements, which we of course were unable to understand, we cannot understand many of the ones that are delivered in English 🤷♂️ We saw dozens on dozens of people all wearing the same ‘Athletic style Bibs’ that we had seen earlier, and there was a lot of people carrying and waving huge flags, our curiosity was certainly raised as to what was going on, could this be like the large marathon events held in other cities around the globe 🤷♂️ Initially we were a little confused, as generally we could interpret Spanish words on advertising posters, and could generally decipher parts of the local Spanish conversations that we overheard, but we were having great difficulty understanding anything we heard on this particular morning, that was until ‘The Penny Finally Dropped’ 🙄
Although you know that Shazza and I are generally ‘History Heathens’, I think that I should perhaps just provide you with a little bit of historical context for you to understand this particular, and quite unique, area of Spain that we are in, for this small corner of Spain is the ‘Basque Country’, which not only has its own quite separate cultures, culinary and otherwise, from the rest of Spain, but quite unique to this region it has its own centuries old language, which even the bulk of Spanish speakers themselves do not understand, let alone International tourists with a smattering of Espanyol 😲 So bear with me whilst I attempt to condense a whole cultures history into a very, very brief explanation 🤷♂️
The ‘Basque’ region is currently very much the same as many other regions in Spain, much like our own region of Andalusia, it is what is known as an ‘Autonomous’ Region, largely self-governing, but whereas all other regions in Spain all speak ‘Spanish’, with some small regional dialect differences, the Basque Region is unique in that it has its very own ‘Officially Recognised’ language. The Basque region has been, for very many years, even prior to the notorious Civil Uprising against the Castro regime, been lobbying to become an Independently recognised State within the borders of Spain, and several local ‘Referendums’ are still being held where a large majority of inhabitants of the region continue to push for this to happen, but the Central Spanish Government have resisted this call and so it is still very much an active and ongoing debate. Now I admit that this is my own very ‘simplistic’ interpretation of the matter, it goes a lot deeper into cultural differences and traditions, but you can dig into this further yourselves if you are interested. The Autonomous region of Catalonia attempted to do this itself more recently, but in a much more aggressive manner, and it ended up with Central Government putting tanks onto the streets of Barcelona 😲 Anyway, enough of that, back to our brief but more peaceful and enjoyable visit to just a small part of this Basque region.
Now some publications and travel documentaries would have you believe that the ‘Basque’ people are quite insular, secretive and even unwelcoming and unfriendly to ‘outsiders’, including their native Spanish compatriots. Now that may possibly be true of those in much smaller rural close knit communities, I really honestly don’t know 🤷♂️ However, what I do know, from our short personal experience here in Bilbao is, that that is certainly not the case, most do speak the normal Spanish language and they certainly appreciate visitor’s who attempt to speak it, but Bilbao, much like Santander and Donostia (San Sebastian) which are themselves International tourist locations, do also speak some English.
By way of an example, Shazza and I we were both stood waiting, amongst the crowds, on a bridge spanning the river, waiting for some sort of a procession to pass by when a woman, with a toddler in tow, came and stood next to us, to also view the procession. I noticed that she too was wearing one of the Athletic style bibs, so not being backwards at coming forward, and in my limited but sufficient Spanish, mixed with a little bit of ‘Spanglish’ 🤭 I asked her the significance of them. She explained, in Spanish, not Basque, that today was the eleventh, and final day, of a run by a group of purely ‘Basque’ people. This group of runners had spent the last eleven days running around towns and villages through the whole of the Basque Region, an annual event, to celebrate the continued existence and support of this local Autonomous community, only true Basque born and bred people wore these ‘Bibs’ and, whilst they did not all participate in the whole eleven day run, many inhabitants from the local towns and villages would join the run in their area, and then many of them travelled to be here in Bilbao where their would be entertainment, music, culinary events and general partying in the streets, the whole day and well into the evening. She then asked us the usual questions, where we were from, why we were in Bilbao and then said that she hoped that we would join in the festivities and have a really enjoyable day. Purely by coincidence, very much later that day, on our way back to the hotel, she saw us and recognised us, she stopped us and asked if we were enjoying ourselves, and then said that she hoped that we would enjoy our second day exploring her city. Now whilst we had many memorable moments that day, that one particular moment just rounded off our day perfectly, we certainly had no prior knowledge of this event when we had originally booked our ferry tickets, but it is unplanned coincidences such as this, that make visits to places just that little bit more special and which create such lasting memories.
Anyway, I digressed a bit again didn’t I 🤔 Along the riverside path there were all sorts of tents and gazebo’s being erected, at one very long tent their were rows on row of trestle tables and chairs set up, and in a cooking area there were seven huge deep circular pans bubbling away on top of gas fired stoves, I could see that each pan contained something different, meats, vegetables, rice and then, right at the end there were large containers stuffed full of long Baguettes, this was obviously going to be one hell of a communal feast, the question buzzing around inside my head was, is this for invited guests only, perhaps a reward for all the participants of the eleven day run 🤔 We certainly couldn’t see anywhere selling tickets 🤷♂️
We continued walking, weaving our way through armies of extremely jovial folk, family groups with babies and toddlers, groups of teenager’s, some mixed groups and others gender specific, all had come prepared with rucksacks on their backs and carrying large flags identifying the ‘Basque Region’. Many were holding plastic beakers containing beer or wine, but there was no drunken or loutish behaviour, well at least not yet, after all it was still morning. Then we saw the groups of more ‘Senior’ members of this community with a lot of the men folk wearing the traditional ‘Black Basque Beret’, although these days they can be purchased in different colours and are worn more as a fashion accessory, but they are still a highly significant piece of headgear in these parts, dating back to the ‘Castro’ era and the resistance fighters that opposed the regime, but today was not about protests, or rebellions, it was about celebrating a way of life that has survived through multiple generations. We did not at anytime feel unsafe or intimidated, although it was quite apparent that we were ‘outsiders’.
We turned away from the river and into the narrow paved streets, there were primarily 3-4 storey high buildings, of differing colours and designs, many had local retail outlets at ground level, fruiterias, mini-markets, pastelerias, clothes, shoes, hardware stores and of course small bars, in fact a lot of small bars, in every street we wandered down, and every one was full, with people spilling out onto the narrow streets with their drinks, and plates of Pinxto’s, talking, laughing, and joking. Above were the accommodations, from the number of bell presses outside each door we obviously assumed these were more individual apartments rather than single occupancy dwellings, the Basque flags draped from many of the balconies. We obviously realised that as good and considerate as my OCD Buddy had been, at preparing a small list of hostelries that would be open on a Sunday, this turned out to be no ordinary Sunday and we would not be short of choices, provided that we were prepared to wait our turn in getting to the bar area. Of course, these were the traditional ‘Pinxtos’ Bars, we made sure we did not make the mistake of referring to them as ‘Tapas’, that would almost certainly have got us lynched 😲 So, when in Rome, as the saying goes, although we were in Bilbao, today’s lunch would comprise of what the British call a ‘Pub Crawl’, well we would be on the equivalent, ‘A Pinxtos and Vermut’ bar crawl, note not my typical Anti-Covid Vaccine of choice🍷 but it was my second favourite so I wasn’t complaining 😉 and, as Shazza had no reasonable excuse as she had no driving to do, she elected to join me and I knew then that this day could get, on a personal basis, quite messy 😳 Whilst we were in several different bars we heard the music and as we looked out we could see the ‘white hooded’ processions passing by, there was no way I was going to risk fighting my way back out to grab a photo, so you will just have to take my word for it.
We had been extremely fortunate with the weather, we did encounter a few very brief periods of the wet stuff but certainly nothing of any significance, and when the raindrops fell we didn’t have too much difficulty in finding a Bar to shelter in, the younger element didn’t appear to notice the wet stuff, but more importantly, none of the organised events and celebrations had been affected, and so we were grateful that the ‘Works of Fiction’ had, in the main, got this one wrong.
It was amazing at just how quickly the morning had turned into afternoon and then early evening and we were beginning to get quite leg weary, Shazza informing me that we had covered a distance of some seven miles and, to be quite honest with you, we were both beginning to feel a little worse for wear, although it certainly had nothing to do with the distance we had covered, perhaps one too many ‘Pinxto’s’ 😂 We made our way back to the hotel with the aim of having a bit of a Siesta, before coming out again to join in the nigh-time festivities and finding somewhere to eat dinner. We ended up spending a little more time engaged in ‘Siesta’ 😴 and did not awake until well after midnight 😳 by which time we had lost any motivation to rejoin the revelry that we could still hear going on outside, but it wasn’t intrusive.
DAY 2:
I had been awoken again in the very early hours of the morning, not this time by the sounds of music or laughter, but by the sound of heavy rain pounding on the balcony windows, at least the ‘Works of Fiction’ had delayed its earlier forecast and had allowed the bulk of the Sunday celebrations to be conducted without too much disruption, and on that happy thought, I drifted back off to sleep.
By the time we had awoken again, at a more respectable time later that morning, and surprisingly, feeling none the worse for wear from our slight excesses of the previous day, I again looked out of the windows and discovered that it was another fairly bright morning, a little bit more overcast than the previous day, but at least it was still dry, although, on checking the ‘Works of Fiction’, it did not look as if it would be staying that way for very much longer, still, we needed to get out whilst the opportunity allowed, across to the more modern side, to hunt down breakfast and to explore what we could of the more modern part of Bilbao.
Our first stop would be at a Cafe that I had discovered on ‘Mr Google’, it advertised itself as a ‘Healthy Eating’ establishment, although not ‘Vegan’ or even ‘Plant Based’ as their were Ham, Eggs and Cheese within the menu options, but that said, there were certainly many more choices that were more in keeping with Shazza’s palate, probably around 80% of what was on the menu. To be quite honest, even the Pinxto bars the previous evening, had several non-meat options, although I wouldn’t go as far as saying that any were ‘Vegan’ or totally ‘Plant Based’, but at least Shazza did now eat eggs and some fish so she had enough choices to prevent her from starving. Later on that second day, whilst we were dodging between rain showers, and more by luck than judgement, we did come across another cafe/bar that advertised on a large neon sign, ‘Healthy Food Porn’, only natural sugars, no glutens and no artificial flavourings or colourings, although on this occasion, still stuffed from our healthy breakfast’s, she only had a Roasted Bean Coffee with Oat Milk and I settled for freshly squeezed Orange juice.
By the time we had finished our very generous breakfast’s the heaviest of the rain had stopped and it was now just a continuous light drizzle, we decided to take our chances on either the wet stuff stopping completely, or else we would have to find somewhere else to take shelter, it was going to be one of those sort of days 🤷♂️ It was a normal weekday so it was very busy with traffic and pedestrians and, oh my goodness, they must hold the record here for the most number of traffic lights, roundabouts and pedestrian crossings and, as their were multiple exits off of the roundabouts, we found ourselves stood for long periods just waiting for the pedestrian light’s to turn green, good job we were wearing hats 🙄
We made our way to a large park, on a drier day we would have enjoyed just walking around it but instead, we discovered a shopping mall right next to it, and yes, of course it would have been stupid not to 😂 It wasn’t a large shopping mall but it was sufficient time to take a leisurely stroll and then when we came back out again, it was to a surprising brief spell of sunshine. Now of course, you cannot come to Bilbao and not go and take a look at the ‘Guggenheim’, it is what modern Bilbao is now famous for. I had seen this on numerous Travel Vlogs on ‘You Tube’ and several TV Travel Documentaries, so I already felt as if I had seen it all before, but yes, you are right, it would have been rude not to 🤷♂️ Although, and because we really are history heathens, we unanimously agreed not to pay €30 each to go and look inside, and that would have been the case even if it had been thunder and lightening 😂 But it wasn’t, so we didn’t have to put those principles to the test.
To be honest, we both do like Architecture, primarily the older stuff, but we do also like some of the modern stuff, however, I wasn’t exactly overly impressed with this, it didn’t seem to live up to all the hype, or perhaps we had just seen it, from every angle, including drone footage, too many times before. We persevered and walked around it, even taking a couple of photo’s, although I could have just cut and pasted those from some other media publication and you would never have known 🤭 But no, we were there and these photo’s were taken with my very own ‘clicker finger’, honestly. I should just say though, that as we crossed a footbridge back into the ‘Old Town’ district, the ‘Guggenheim’ looked a lot more impressive from a distance.
Another thing that I do enjoy is walking along Riverside promenades, this one in Bilbao can be walked on both sides and at several locations, on both sides, are various sculptures, some just modern art sort of stuff and other’s are statues of various people or scenes. There was one that we came across with four women dragging rope but there was no explanation of what they were representing. It had intrigued me, to the extent that I had to do some research to discover whether this was just an artistic sort of thing with no particular relevance, or……………….🤔
What I discovered was that these Bronze Statues are known as ‘Las Sirgueras’ (Rope Girls) and are a fairly recent addition to the riverside Paseo, only being unveiled in 2021. They are to honor the 19th Century ‘Basque Women’ who physically towed cargo ships, laden with ‘Iron’, along the Estuary during the Spanish ‘Carlist Wars’, whilst the men folk were away fighting and so, these statues represent the recognition of ‘Invisible Women’s Contribution’ to the Industrial, Economic and Social Development of Bilbao. Even though our walk had been interrupted several times by the wet stuff, it hadn’t really spoilt our wanderings and, as usual, we had no specific ‘must see’s’, apart from the Guggenheim of course, we just walked along a street then, for no reason inparticular, would divert down another, then another to see if there was anything of interest. The city centre didn’t offer much, we are not shoppers and just like many other modern cities and large towns, the busy internal streets were filled with the same corporate retail chains so we chose to just head for the riverside and the outer periphery, to look at the views. There were boats doing the usual tourist scenic trips and to be honest, although a little chilly, it would have been a good day to do one, as most looked pretty empty, apart from a handful of souls on board. However, over the last couple of days we had probably walked beyond where the tour boats would have gone, and along both banks of the river, so we didn’t bother with a boat trip ourselves. Once back on the Eastern side of the river we were back in the Old Town district where the riverside promenade was more of a relaxed tree lined avenue sort of walk, the river on one side and the quieter roads on the other. On our first day we had walked a little over seven miles in total, on this second day only five miles, but we were beginning to get a little leg weary so when we came to our hotel we both agreed that we were still pretty much full from our earlier generous breakfasts, so we didn’t need lunch, although it was well past lunchtime, but a rest and a coffee in our hotel room would suffice, okay, and probably a brief Siesta 😂
Whilst Shazza read a book on her ‘Kindle’ I did another check on the street map just to ensure that we hadn’t missed out on anything, but we hadn’t, their was a Basilica in the Old Town District, but Shazza wasn’t overly enthralled so we decided that we would go out later that evening just to find somewhere to eat before returning to re-pack our suitcases and rucksacks, ready for our drive to the Brittany Ferries Terminal the following day. We generally find that for cities like Bilbao, two full days of exploration and sightseeing is just the right amount of time for us, although in larger cities like Madrid, Valencia, Seville and Malaga, well they required perhaps a little longer, although the latter two being on our doorstep so we can, and have, done them in several day visits. But we had enjoyed our short two day visit here in Bilbao and agreed that it really does have much more to offer than just being a gateway to the UK.
The following morning, we checked-out of our hotel and manoeuvred our way through the ‘Old Town’ labyrinth of narrow one-way streets, towards the ferry terminal, which Google Maps showed would be a journey time of just 22 minutes. We stopped at the first ‘Repsol’ fuel station that we came across, just to top the tank up for when we first arrived in the UK, the cost of a litre of Diesel in these parts had now hit the €2 mark (£1.74) 😲 however, it was still readily available and I had read nothing to indicate that it was going to be rationed here in Spain, although we were not confident on just how long that would remain the case if the US/Iran conflict were to go on for very much longer.
Checking in at the terminal and going through the outbound Immigration formalities was a breeze, we just presented our Spanish Residency Cards alongside our British Passports, which are no longer stamped, and we were directed to our appropriate boarding lane. We were one of the first cars to be boarded, as we had payed for ‘Priority Disembarkation’, we were directed to the parking garage on level 3 on the ferry and positioned right at the exit door, at least we would get a good start upon arrival in Portsmouth on the Wednesday evening, where, if we were on schedule, at 9pm meant that we would then only have a 90 minute drive to our pre-booked hotel accommodation in Swindon. But for now, it would be 32 hours of enforced relaxation, although I had previously stated in an earlier ramble that it was only a 27 hour crossing, I obviously now am beginning to have an issue with my numeric abilities 😂
Next stop, dear old Blighty so, until my next ramble…………….
Hasta Luego mi Amigos, La Vida Es Buena
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