San SeBESTian

Last night, I was surprised to check my ticket and see that my train to San Sebastian was at 7:35 AM, not 9:35 AM.  Still, since I knew that I had a long, fidgety train ride (5.5 hours) and a full day of eating ahead of me, I got up at 5 AM to run.  Suffice it to say that I overheard several phone calls where "Oh my God, I partied SO HARD last night that I'm just heading home and PEOPLE ARE RUNNING" was used as justification for just how crazy, fantastic, and badass their Barcelona experiences had been.  At least I'm good for something.

Anyway, I just made my train by a few minutes and was sitting next to, by some strange miracle, a person my age.  Well, he was in his 20s, but probably more in the 27ish range.  I'm one of those people who ALWAYS is seated next to middle aged men and 70-year old grandmas on every form of transportation.  Not that I'm complaining.  Those are the demographics that I befriend most easily.  But it was a nice change to talk to someone my age, although his advances had to be staved off early to make the remaining five hours less awkward.  He's from a small village outside Pamplona and was kind enough to explain the route and notable sights to me.

And then, after a very long journey that proved my fidgety-ness, I arrived in San Sebastian for my first day of Basque Country flavor.

The San Sebastian crest, which is everywhere and on everything.

The view along the river, in both directions (left, and below)

 And, since this is a hot spot in Spain and it's summer, there's the inevitable music festival.  This one was hosted by Heineken, perhaps in an attempt to gain ground against the domination of Estrella.

Jazzaldia, which runs from July 19-23, 2012

 For a taste of Euskara, the language of the Basque Country (both the Spanish and French parts, although Spanish, French, and often English are also spoken), see this entertaining sign below:

Upon arriving at my hostel, Olga's Place (voted the best hostel in San Sebastian by every website I could find, as well as nearly every guidebook I've come across), I set off in search of lunch.  Near but not in the Old Town I came across a bustling pintxos bar and decided that this was the place to find some grub.

I learned my lesson in Barcelona: hot tapas are usually the best and usually the house specialties.  For this reason, I started with one enormous pintxo/tapa (here, the two are basically one and the same, and pintxos are not served with toothpicks... you remember what you ate/the staff have INCREDIBLE memories and usually know what you got) of a fried fish that was so good.

 It was full of flavor, perfectly moist and flaky, and didn't even need the lemon, although I put lemon on nearly all seafood.  So that's saying something.
My next selection was a sort of purple rice wrap (think sushi with no filling) covered in a delicious helping of roasted red peppers.

 Both tomatoes and red peppers feature prominently in Basque cooking, and these did not disappoint.  They were sweet, complex, and perfectly cooked.  This hot tapa was definitely a keeper, and I scooped up all the extra peppers on the handy dandy bread that's served with every pintxo/tapa.
My next order was a set of mushrooms.  These come speared along with a piece of bread already soaking in the juice.  

 The mushrooms explode in your mouth with a burst of flavorful juice filling the niches of their caps. Be careful - these are often too hot to eat when they're first handed to you.
 After three pintxos, I decided to call it quits.  Given the large size of the fish pintxo, I was getting pretty full.  The bill?  A cool 6 euros.  I love this place already.
I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the city.  I started in the Old Town, and stopped to admire San Vicente Church.

 Unlike the Moderniste and other styles seen in Barcelona, this church is pure Gothic (concession: Barcelona has Gothic, too, but it is usually overshadowed by other architectural styles).  The church dates back to the early 16th century, although additions were made in the 17th century and a few artistic flourishes (Pieta sculpture by Basque sculptor Jorge Oteiza, 1999) are more recent.  The alterpiece inside is from the 16th century and depicts both St. Vincent, to whom the church is dedicated, and San Sebastian, the city's patron saint.
Just around the corner is Constitution Plaza, the main square where bullfights were held in the days of yore.

 The balconies are numbered, because they were owned by the city even if the apartment was privately held. The city would rent out people's balconies to paying customers, and they needed some way to find their seats. The Old Town also features a museum and a public market (sadly, it closed just as I was arriving in the city and isn't open tomorrow).
Next, I climbed Monte Urgell, a hill overlooking both of San Sebastian's main beaches.  Atop is a castle (Castillo de la Mota) that was once used to defend the city.  There's also a giant statue of Jesus that guards the city in a more spiritual manner.

The hill is also dotted with several other remnants of fortifications, including ones attributed to Napoleon and his troops.  My favorite story from the various "San Sebastian History" panels dotting the hill On the climb down was the reinforced armaments shelter.  Despite being impervious to manmade bullets, the bunker was not able to withstand the might of God.  A bolt of lightening struck it and the arms inside exploded, destroying the bunker, part of the castle, and wrecking havoc upon the city below.  Pretty crazy, right?  On the hike down, I stopped at several overlooks on the left side of the hill to catch the best views of the city.

The Basque Flag, waving proudly.

A view of the "Gros" side of the city (not to be confused with Gross, which it is not)

 The walk down also gave me a chance to appreciate the white-walled, terracotta-roofed buildings that are so classically Spanish.  (I saw many of these during my train ride, too)

 After all that hiking, I took a belated siesta.  This is my trick for adapting my eating schedule to the ludicrous 10 pm dinners of Spain.  I simply go to bed at 6 pm, just before my stomach grumbling becomes too much to bear, and awaken refreshed and ready to eat at around 9.  The sun was setting, but my gastronomic adventures were just beginning.

I decided to do part of Rick Steve's Tapas Crawl through the Old Town, from the guidebook that my mother thoughtfully bought me for my trip to Spain.  I began at Bar Goiz-Argi (which means Bar Morning Light).

 While the Rick Steve's guide suggests getting one tapa per stop, I took that as a suggestion rather than a rule and decided to get two (I'm only here for a day and a half, after all).  The first was the tartaletta de txangurro, a spider crab spread that is eaten smeared on a generous piece of bread.

 The second was their signature shrimp kebab, which every single person in the bar was eating.  I'm not usually a shrimp fan, but these were delicious.  The shrimp were snappy, full of flavor, and covered with a sauce of onions and peppers with just enough lemon.  Mmmmm.

 The next sto pwas Bar Borda-Berri ("Bar Mountain Hut") just down the street.

 I got their signature dish, beef cheeks in a red wine sauce (carrillera de ternera).  I used every single crumb of the bread to sop up the sauce.  So good.

 Then, I wandered one street over to Bar Txepetxa.

 This bar is known for its anchovies (fresh, not salted), which it serves up in about ten different ways.  I went with the Anchovies with Black Olive Pate, which was delicious.

 Finally, I stopped at Bar Tamboril.

While I'd already gotten an order of mushrooms earlier in the day, the mushrooms at Bar Tamboril are famous and everyone was eating them, so I joined the bandwagon.  These tasted almost identical to the ones from lunch, but did edge out the competition a bit.  Plus, the juice was plentiful and it was a pleasure to eat every last morsel on the plate.

 The final tapa of the night was a tempura anchovy, another specialty of Tamboril.  It was surprisingly delicious, although the mayonnaise-like sauce on the side (with a dash or some spice... paprika? on top.  Too little to provide any flavor) was not my favorite.  The anchovy flaked apart under my fork and was very different from, but just as tasty as, the previous anchovy dish I'd enjoyed.

 While Rick Steve's Pintxos Crawl included three more stops, I decided to save those for lunch tomorrow.  I was getting full (and therefore had to decline the three senior citizen gentlemen who asked me to come have dinner with them.  Tragic.)
 For the long wander home, I got a "small" ice cream of a delicate, light passion fruit.  I ordered the smallest size, which was enormous but only 1.90 euros.  It was just enough to get me to the door of my hostel.

Spotted: Hostel life.  So many people in the hostel here and elsewhere are Australian.  I also think that I'm rather bad at hostel life because I don't make a point of socializing all that much with the other people.  Granted, they're usually in little groups, have no interest in seeing the sights, and would not conform to my busy body, early bird schedule.  Perhaps by the end of the trip, I'll have the hang of this thing.

Also, another side note: San Sebastian is the absolute perfect place to start my vacation.  There's not that much to see, so I have plenty of time for walks, long luxurious meals, and naps.  Sounds good to me!  Highly recommended.