Historias de la Gran Patranha

Well; yesterday then... We got to Donostia. It was a bit of a traffic nightmare since the centre is very busy and may of its streets were closed due to the Fiesta Grande.... that, and the suicidal tourists and locals that decided to take their chances at a "tete-a-tete" with our pretty car.

We loved the landscape on the way here: we didn't have the time to stop at Hondarribia, which we only glimpsed from afar (and which looked lovely, perched on the side of a mountain over the sea). Pasaia, industrial port with the most incredible plunging and green fjord, and then Donostia, also mountainous with two great beaches, a cycling and walking town full of lovely French style buildings.

This is a country of cyclists; despite the enormous slopes, all our trip in the Basque country was dotted by semi-pro cyclists, many just kids training, the Indurains of the future, going steadily up hill without flinching.... oh, and, of course, one should also mention the all prevailing frontones for Pelota Vasca & cesta (canasta? dunno). In fact, we also spotted a couple of bullring dotted between cyclists and frontones. There were quite a number of ads for bullfights which gave us the impression the French Basque were a bit crazier than the Spanish Basque for toros.

(from our room)

My dad had proposed to pay for the Hotel Maria Cristina, favoured by the VIPs of the Cinema events that take place in Donostia on a yearly basis... the price though made us cough more than once, so I spared him the pocket pain by choosing something cute, not in the middle of the town and slightly different.

Our room in Hotel La Galería has just got views of the beach, situated under Monte Igueldo it is pretty much away from town, but that can only be a good thing given the mayhem of people down there. There's a lovely seaside walk that allows you to reach the other mountain in around twenty minutes walking, so it is not too bad. Parking was an absolute nightmare due to the "R" (resident) areas and the very-keen-to-fine traffic wardens which were on full bloom. Unfortunately the hotel had less than adequate parking space (as in, almost no space!) for parking, so we were too late to blag a little spot there. We got the Dali room and our views on the sea are thanks to the fact that the building next door was demolished at some point, yay!!!

(not the luxury of Hotel Mria Cristina but check out the angelical sleepy face!)

For dinner we walked to the old town - with the rest of the town it seems, as the streets were packed. On the beach, the people were busily hiring chairs and sitting looking to the same point. We could not fathom what all that was about until we got to the end of the promenade, closed an surrounded by police guarding mysterious black containers, like little urns, closed with tin foil which were... FIREWORKS! Seeing the amount of explosive material stored there, it was going to be a damn big display. As part part of the Semana Grande, the council brings on each day of the week a different firework team from Valencia and Castellón. Also, on the promenade, there were lots of music shows, many put on by the council... a full regalia of events all around us.

(here's a photo from somewhere over the promenade - starting to get gloomy)

The firewroks were just great; Phil thought the show would last five minutes or so, so when we got off the taxi that took us back to hour hotel - with a very informed driver who just told us the story of every single building on our way - he did not bother really to run to the seaside to watch them; ah, thou were lacking faith, my friend, Semana Grande fireworks should be of at least one hour, which was the case... so we had time to go and sit out with the rest of Donostia, on the beach.

All in all, quite a nice end of the day, apart from the pintxos; crowded, greasy and disappointing. Of course we didn't go to the best pintxos places because they were too crowded (the guide seemed to mention that the crowded ones were the best, of course, but if they are crowded, how the hell are you to reach the food?). I got to taste the "txacoli", typical drink which was basically the same as a slightly sparkly white wine. It was a bit of a shame as I had expected to find some sort of cathedral of food, but ended up in a repetition of Calle de la Estrella (if you are from Coruna, you'll know). Ah, and before I forget, we also saw a pasacalles with cabezudos who were hitting the public with pig's bladders. So I had to take Phil away before he reacted violently - can you imagine him trying to K.O. a cabezudo? - and we hid at the door of the church of San Sebastian, a very fitting name for the town, of course.

So I will leave you there, imagine us both hiding away in a portico while the scary cabezudos just did what they do best and Phil got really annoyed at this display of traditional stuff that would not go down well in the UK. Next day, a bit more Donostia and then on the road again!