The Lands of Wine and Tapas

A bit misleading title, because basically all of Europe is the land of wine, and basically all of Spain is the land of tapas. But we're talking prime areas for each here: Bordeaux and San Sebastian (though "pintxos" is the preferred term for "tapas" in Basque country). Writing this post from Geneva, but I believe we left you dear readers back in Paris.

Got into Bordeaux at around 11:00 after a very early train ride which Molly slept through almost entirely, somehow ignoring the extremely loud breather across the aisle. Our (super budget) hotel was quite close to the train station, always a plus with our hefty bags, but we couldn't check in until 2:00 so we dumped them and headed out to explore. Stumbled upon a good portion of the landmarks on our list including medieval archways and main squares. Poked our heads in a couple churches and were cursed at by the beggars outside, but didn't feel bad about it because we were suckered in by the sob story of the first one to approach and gave him two Euro. Stopped for coffee and ice cream—Molly was overjoyed to find iced coffee options—in a little shop along the river promenade.

Bordeaux is a very pretty city especially in the historic center and along the river (whose eddies swirl brown with mud, but still nice to look at). Large bridge with brick arches underneath near the center of town. Pointed towers and conical tops of buildings. Several towering cathedrals and a gorgeous pillar with sculptures and fountains near the Opera. Not so bustling of course and easier to walk one end to another. The extremely busy shopping area centered around Rue St. Catherine is very new looking with marble streets and somewhat high-end brands.

It's like they knew this would be on our blog.

Molly playing in the reflection pond.

Bordeaux really comes to life at night, when the main bridge and monuments are all lit up along the river, and the reflection pond in this main center area is absolutely stunning. Occasionally flooding or misting, the pond is otherwise a thin layer of water on the concrete reflecting a fountain, a temporary sculpture of a head made of metal letters, and the former palace. The reflection fountain is also surrounded by flower gardens, over which hang colored streetlamps.

At long last.

But we'd yet to see the glory of the bright lights. After our initial probes into the city, we headed back to check in and settle in our room, complete with half-assed nautical theming (even if Bordeaux is 50 miles or so from the ocean). We returned to the city center and did many, many laps of the same few blocks trying to decide what looked good for dinner, settling on fondue at last only to discover it wouldn't open until 19:00. With twenty minutes to the hour we wandered around some more, only to suddenly realize it was about to be 6:00, not 7:00! Stomachs rumbling, we had pre-dinner donuts and coffee/Diet Coke (guess who had which) and finally went back to get our tasty self-fried meat bits.

English French Cinema and The Largest Dune in Europe

The next morning we brunched on fruit and croissants/madelines from a patisserie (god I will miss them) and swung by the local indie theater, called Utopia, to see what might be playing in English. Made plans to return and traveled on. The sports park all along the river is filled with active Bordeaux-ians—it even has a squash court—and street musicians were everywhere, maybe more so than any other city so far. We passed a drum corps and even saw a group of copoceira practicers, a Brazilian sport hybrid of music, mysticism, karate, and dance. Wandered through the Botanical Gardens and past the ruins of a Roman ampitheater, which once held 15,000 people and now is mostly paved over with houses and streets.

Never get tired of baguettes,
meat, cheese and wine.

After getting picnic supplies we went back for our movie, Frances Ha, a black and white English-language film focused on the life of a 27 year old bad dancer living and failing in New York. Pretty amusing and really excellent dialogue. The theater was quite cool and housed in a former church building. Apparently the main screen is above where the altar once stood. Returned to the reflection pond for a picnic of baguette with salami, Dutch cheese, grapes and wine.

Up the next morning and barely missed our planned train to Arcachon on the coast as we didn't have cash. Derp. Grabbed un petit dejuneur at a nearby cafe, then caught the next one. The seaside town was a little less than an hour from Bordeaux. Off the train and onto a bus to visit the Dune du Pyla, largest in Europe. Didn't seem impressive as we approached through the sandy wooded path lined with tourist stores and ice cream shops, but after we shed our shoes and climbed to the top, it revealed its true scale. Crowds dispersed out across the expanse of the dune, which rolled away some distance to the waves below. Ahead were cascading sand bars and an island, to the right a large bay. The left side of the dune stretched far out to a point perhaps 700-1000m away where multicolored paragliders floated in the wind.

Atop the Dune du Pyla.

Descended the longer side ahead of us, the weather perfect for the activity as the sand didn't even burn, and dipped our toes in before getting frites and beers in a small cafe overlooking the surf next to the half-sunken and graffiti-sprayed remnants of WWII bunkers. Climbed back up the Dune and returned to town to catch our train back to Bordeaux, where we picnic-ed again, this time in the nearby sports park.

Started off our final day here by exploring a great indoor open-air market, drinking coffee at a creperie run by a cute deaf couple, and tried a canele on our way out. The small custard-like cake left much to be desired in our opinion. We'll stick to macarons. Swung by Musee d'Aquitane for a historical overview of the Bordeaux region from prehistoric excavations through Gallo-Roman and into the 1700/1800s. Tried to enter the contemporary art musuem as the permanent collections are meant to be free, but there weren't any permanent collections up for some reason so we would have had to pay, and passed. Tried to rent bikes but the location was closed.

Know what would make this even more awesome?
Some tasty appetizers.

Our plans shot, we got tickets for a wine tasting boat cruise "with appetizers"—a major draw for us since it was fairly cheap—and looked for lunch. Molly had been craving a burger, but all of the burger places were closed, too, so after all these closure frustrations we got a bottle of wine and ate at the same place that we grabbed donuts pre-fondue. Napped back at the hotel before our cruise, and upon turning in our keys as required, learned we were apparently supposed to check out the day before. Whoops. Bad Sunday. Paid for a final night then returned to the riverfront to catch our cruise, which did have bottomless wine, friendly fellow travelers, and nice views, but most definitely did not have appetizers, just bread and cheese that soon vanished.

Beach Bound

Train from Bordeaux to Hendaye, where we climbed on a tram to take us to San Sebastian/Donastia (everything has multiple names thanks to Basque). Arrived in the afternoon and checked in at our hostel after walking down the river from the traim station. More like homestay than a hostel proper as it was just some dude named Tato running it out of a large apartment. Filled with noisy Australians, which was fine as we had plans. Beach plans.

Streets of Old Town, San Sebastian.

Out to explore away the evening. The city of San Sebastian is quite small and walkable, with a few bridges including one neat art deco one spanning the river, which dumps into (and is dumped into by) the ocean. To the right of the river is the main surfing beach, tucked into a crescent bay shaped by rocks on one end and cliffs on the other. To the left is Old Town, beyond which are the other two beaches. Very beautiful region where the mountains meet the sea. Smaller mountains than the Rockies, but we don't have azure waves and beaches to complement them. Or tasty tapas.

Yeah, this place is all right.

Wandered through a hilly wooded park, then back along the river to a few squares. Thankful to be able to speak the local tongue, or Spanish I suppose as the local tongue is quite different and loaded with 'x's and 'z's, we ordered coffees and sat in a little park. Perfect weather once again. Into the heart of Old Town, past the impressive Baroque-facaded cathedral and on to the surf-beach area, where we wrote a few postcards from a rocky perch, which afforded views of the many beachgoers—running kids and adults naked and clothed. No big deal here, which is as it should be.

Next we headed up the steep paths of Mount Urgull, a central hill/peak in between the two beaches crowned by a castle-esque fort. On top of the fort, a huge Jesus statue looms, constantly blessing the beaches. I wonder if the surfers pay homage. The fort was first built in the 1000s, the bulk of it added in the 1600s. Incredible views from here, and we killed some time reading our newly acquired paperbacks (hard to read on a screen on the beach, so we prepared ahead of time), and waited for the sun to set past the lighthouse perched on the island in the center of the bay.

After watching the eye of the sun blink out beyond the peaks out past the ocean, we descended through the woods on cobble paths, past a racetrack (?) and came back up into town through a marina, diving back into the alleyways to find some DINNER. It was past 21:00 and we were starving. Settled on a sit-down place instead of tapas due to the serious stomach rumblings, but ended up disappointed in the expensive and unimpressive fare. I was excited to get some paella, but it was brownish white rice (not yellow as it should be), with zero vegetables and hardly any flavor. Molly's nachos were chips with guacamole from a can and some kind of weird tomato sauce. We still devoured it all though.

Tapas, Tapas, So Many Tapas

The next day was spent on the beach. Enjoyed a cloud-free sky and a pleasant swim out to the diving platforms, where Molly showed off her high school swim team skills. After a few hours of baking (which somehow did not result in any burns), we wandered past the Palace and on to some super cool iron sculptures that are soldered into solid rock at the edge of the bay. Holes in the platform floor here allow the wind driven by the waves to rush up beneath your feet, while the seaspray gushes up above the rocks on the southern point.

Post-beach siesta, then out in Old Town for pinxtos and drinks. Went to a cheap place first to get all the staples: tortilla espanola, chorizo, corquettes, champignons, and my personal favorite, fried cod with red pepper sauce. Also tried cidre, which is just cider, but in the region they pour it from on high, and usually while doing behind-the-back type tricks, in order to fizz it up a little extra. We met some folks from Colorado in this bar out for a wedding. Two other Mile High groups to date!

On to a much fancier and more gourmet pinxto bar, which was probably the best food on the trip so far (including what has yet to be blogged) outside of Les Papilles. I had salmon cubes, raw, cured in-house and topped with caviar. Also tried steak with two sauces, a vegetables cheese wrap, and the highlight (for me as Molly declined), the house foie gras. So fatty yet delicate and fresh. Rich melty goodness. Sorry for the force fed duck, but man oh man was it good. Also enjoyed a pitcher of sangria and sat by a British couple, who conversed with us for some time about our travels and life in general, buying us a round of cidre to boot. Between the beach and amazing food, this day was a trip highlight for sure.

Next up, the Spanish capital. Stay tuned.