Gnarled Hand Combs

I greeted my first and only morning in San Sebastian with a sunrise run.  Or rather, a run at the hour typically associated with sunrise.  The sun sort of weakly shimmered near the end, but didn’t come out in full until nearly noon.  But the river and coastline were beautiful.  Not so beautiful were the bedraggled all-night partiers who were even more obnoxious (and, in some places, numerous) than those I’ve encountered in Barcelona.

I went out for a walk a few hours later to explore the town.

A random band of musicians wandering the streets Sunday morning.

The Cathedral

Breakfast stop!

I got this pastry, which had surprise raisins hidden throughout, and a "plum cake" filled with those fake fruit bits that I hate.

During my meander, I realized how unfashionable my early exercise had been.  The acceptable hour for Sunday morning runs is about 9-10 AM, when the sidewalks are filled with spandex- and neon-clad joggers, as well as folks of all ages in bathing suits powerwalking through the wet sand at the water’s edge.

The morning coastline.

Like other coastal cities, San Sebastian likes its tourist-zone coastal sculptures:

Tribute to Fleming by Eduardo Chillila

And apparently likes to put pools on its beaches...

My first stop on my walk was a series of sculptures that my coworker, Celia, had told me about.  Tucked around a craggy series of cliffs at the very end of the coastline path, The Wind Comb (1977) by Eduardo Chillida, a prominent local sculptor, looks like a series of gnarled old hands poking out of the rocks.

As Chillida put it, “The Peine del Viento (Wind Comb) is a query about our future; a tribute to the wind, which I admire a lot, and to my home San Sebastian.”  Though the gnarled claws pour red rust like blood down the rocks, a couple was taking their wedding photos among the boulders.  Apparently, it’s a very popular place for such photos, here.  The most interesting thing about the sculptures, though, is the huge ordeal that Chillida put everyone through to get his art just so.  Each sculpture weights 13 tons and required a bridge with rails to be built over the sea specifically for installing them.  Oh, and they were made of “corten” weathering steel to protect them from the elements, although they are clearly not immune to nature’s wrath.

There are also these puzzle-piece shaped sections which are "breather holes" that, on days with a strong tide, spray a mixture of air and salt water.

Next, I walked up to the Miramar Palace, build for Queen Maria Cristina and the Royal Family after the Queen was advised to bathe in the waters of San Sebastian for a skin condition.  In true royal fashion, it disregards the accessibility of the beach for the common person and cuts it directly in two with a private path down to the water's edge.

Sadly, it's not open to the public, because it's now a private music school (University of the Basque Country's Summer School).

View from Miramar Palace

I spent the early afternoon back in the Old Town, and finally managed to spot several of the private gastronomic societies that I've heard so much about.  Since San Sebastian is very female-run, these societies were a place for men to escape and feel less like puppets of their wives.  Basically the societal equivalent of a man cave.

 And then it was time to finish my Pintxos crawl.  I started at El Fuego Negro (The Black Fire)

 They didn't have any dishes I was particularly excited about, so I got adventurous.  I started out with "Gazta helada & sardin zaharra" which came out as a cross between a cold meringue and freeze dried ice cream... but fish flavored.  It was rather revolting.

 I decided to give El Fuego Negro another try and got a bacalao dish that a fellow diner had ordered.  Super delicious.

 Fun fact about El Fuego Negro: They sell a comic cookbook.
The next stop was not on Rick Steve's list, because the second member of Rick Steve's list was nowhere to be found.  So instead I ended up at Gondarias Jatetxea Bar

The place was packed.  I ordered these fried stuffed peppers, which were DELICIOUS.  I ate every crunchy speck.

 And then, my mind was blown.  I saw someone ordering this dish and immediately got one for myself.  It was solomillo, a cut of beef, and it was heavenly.  Please do not leave San Sebastian without trying this.

 My tapas crawl was interrupted by this street performer, who was hilarious and reminded me of the Horn Guy whose video I love to watch. 

 And then, already slightly full, it was on to my last stop: La Mejillonera.

 This was described as more of a greasy college-student dive, and it certainly lived up to that reputation.  The  inside lacked the wood paneling and general beauty of the other pintxos bars.  Plus, the food was equally... industrial and greasy spoon-esque.  I started with a "small" patatas bravas, so that I could compare them to the Barcelona classics I love so well.

 The dish was huge, the potatoes weren't nearly crispy enough for my taste, and there was WAY too much sauce overwhelming the potato.
I tried again with tigres, mussels in a spicy tomato sauce.

 Also a fail.  I recommend getting tigres elsewhere.
Never too full for dessert, I combated the rising temperature with a gelato from Oiartzum.

Fruits of the forest sorbet on the bottom, a creamy chocolate gelato with candied orange pieces on top.  Mmmmmm.

 And then, I was off to Bilbao!  Note to fellow travelers: don't take the train.  Take the bus, which gets you there in half the time (70 minutes) and is only about 10 euros.

Welcome to Bilbao!

 Since the other girls staying in my room at the hostel were out, I went to explore my new neighborhood.  A few sights:

Teatro Arriaga

Iglesia de San Nicolas

Plaza Nueva

Biblioteca de Bidebarrieta

Palacio de John (La Bolsa)

Catedral de Santiago

Mercado de la Ribera (note the beautiful stained glass)

Iglesia de San Anton

I finally got around to trying my Pastel Basco (Basque Pastry) that I bought around lunch time.  It was basically just a sweet, dense cake.  Sort of a disappointment.

 I also bought a pinon (pronounced pinyon, but I can't find a tilda to put over the n) which is a sweet little ball covered in nuts.

When I got back, I met my roommates: Racquel from Denver and Emily and Emilie from Montreal.  We headed out for dinner... only to find that most restaurants were closed and the rest had long waits.  We finally settled for a restaurant on Calle Perro and ordered dishes to share.

Russian salad, which was a hit with the Canadians but not with the mayonnaise-hating Americans.

Roasted green peppers, delicious.

Shrimp in garlic sauce (tiny shrimp, and SO MANY of them.  A true massacre)

 And I finally got the chance to try one dish that I've seen on quite a few menus:

Baby squid in their own ink

The food was a severe letdown after the deliciousness of San Sebastian, so I have a feeling that it will be a feed myself necessity rather than an indulgence here.  Oh well.

Spotted: Hostel life.  I'm definitely getting the hang of this.  We got back from dinner to meet another roommate, Macarena from Chile.  Macarena and I hit it off right away, talking about our favorite places in Barcelona (where she just finished her Master's degree in Film Studies) and Chile.