All the way to the bank (cities)

I finally made it up to Northern Spain. I have been to Barcelona several times, but I don't count it as northern Spain. I think of it more as 'right side Spain'. My trip to Bilbao and Santander (March 11-13), however, allowed me to finally check 'Northern Spain' off my travel list. In addition to their location, these cities also have another common thread: they both have banks named after them. BBVA stands for Banco Bilbao Vizcaya Argentaria and Santander for Santander (it's sort of like New York, it's the bank so nice they named it twice).

Tallest building to the right is the BBVA building in Bilbao.

Santander headquarters in Santander

I started my journey in Bilbao (which I'm sure I will spell wrong at some point in this entry. Sometimes I can't remember if the 'o' or the 'a' is the last letter), I arrived at about 10:00 AM at the Bilbao airport. I was mapless, as you might expect, but this time I actually stopped at the tourist office in the airport to get one. I obtained both a map and directions on how to catch the airport bus into the city. It came at a price though; I had to disclose my nationality for their statistics ('I'm just another Canadian tourist,' I said).

Onto the bus and into the city I went. The second bus stop was just feet from my hotel. I was allowed to check-in early (woo-hoo!) so I went up to my room, examined the map, took a nap and then went running. I was scared to walk out of the hotel in the middle of downtown Bilbao wearing my yellow running shorts and blue running top. I was expecting the stares I usually get here in Alcalá. To my relief people acted like I wasn't even there. It was a breath of fresh air.

A small part of my run in Bilbao.

I spent the afternoon walking around Bilbao, checking out the architecture, visiting the Guggenheim museum and getting my bearings. I also took a trip to the bus station, where I bought a ticket to Santander for the next day (Saturday).

After a run on Saturday morning, I walked a mile to the bus station and took an hour-long ride to Santander. I attempted to get a map at the information desk in the Santander bus station, but there was a sign posted that said that they didn't have maps. I tried to use the station's free wifi to pull up a map on my iPod, but I was unsuccessful. My third idea was to walk outside and follow the yellow signs pointing to the 'tourist office'. Unfortunately I could only find signs that had other words on them. It didn't matter though. I just wandered around and found churches, squares, outdoor escalators and great views without a stinking map. (Although, I never gave up the search.)

Cathedral of Santander- Nuestra Señora de la Asunción

Escalator up the hill

View from the top of the escalator.

I walked around Santander all day. I stopped for tea and read the paper (I learned that the US was appalled and disappointed with Gwyneth Paltrow's most recent appearance in Glee and that there was an earthquake in Japan). For lunch I went here:

The waitress here was super duper nice. She got the table all set for me, brought me a drink and answered my questions about the menu. I decided to get the three-course menu that included a a drink and bread for 9€.  The first course choice was simple- the lentils. But I wasn't sure what to get for the second course. I didn't know what a few of the choices were, so I chose one and asked the waitress.  I asked what 'callos' were. She couldn't explain them every well except that they were cow meat in a tomato sauce and that they were typical of Spain. And so, against my father's golden rule of never trying anything new, I ordered them.

Had I been a better Spanish student I would have known that 'callos' also means 'callus' or 'corn' (as in feet) and that an edible equivalent to the word couldn't possibly be a delicious decision. So when it came out, I tried it. It was slimy and chewy. It had absolutely no taste, just texture. After a few bites I convinced myself I had given it the ol' college try but ultimately didn't like it. So I left the rest.

mmmmmm.....?

I had a feeling I didn't want to know what I ate and I was right. My Grandma (Wehrmann) would have been proud of me (and would have laughed at my expense) for eating it. That is not a good sign. 'Callos' in English is 'tripe' or (according to thefreedictionary.com) 'the rubbery lining of the stomach of cattle or other ruminants, used as food'. Please note that it is not defined as 'food' but rather as something that is 'used as food'.

Luckily, I had the first course of lentils, the half bottle of wine (Don't judge me. That's what she brought me when I ordered red wine, I didn't ask for a half bottle) and ice cream to fill me up. The waitress also saw me drinking the bottled water from my purse and said, "I saw you drinking water from your bag. Do you want a bottle of cold water? It's included in the meal." I accepted her offer.
She forgot to bring me bread and remembered when she cleared the callos off the table. She asked me why I didn't remind her and I said that I had plenty of other food and I didn't need bread. She said, "Yeah, it's fattening anyway, it's better not to have the temptation" (or something along those lines).

After lunch I started walking again. At a crosswalk I met up with a little boy (he was maybe 2 or 3) and his mother. He saw an older lady cross the street on a red light and asked,
"Mamá, why did she cross the street?"
"Because she's in a hurry," the mother replied.
A few steps later, at another crosswalk, I took out my camera to take a picture.
"Mamá, why is she taking a photo?"
"Because she is visiting and she might not be back, so she wants to take a photo so she can remember where she was."

I walked back to the bus station and went the opposite direction I went the first time. Not long after my second departure from the bus station did I find the tourist office sign along with a touristy area. I walked down along the ocean/tourist area for about twenty minutes. The sun was setting and the sky was incredible. I'm glad I didn't find this area until dusk; the photos just wouldn't have compared to these.

I got on the bus back to Bilbao at 8 PM and walked back to the hotel where I watched the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on TV (in Spanish).

The next morning (Sunday) I took another walking tour of Bilbao. I walked outside the Guggenheim museum, crossed several bridges and walked in the historical downtown area, which was in stark contrast to the other more modern part of Bilbao I'd seen. It was almost like I was in another city.

Puete de la Salve

Mamá (the spider sculpture)

Me with the Guggenheim
museum in the background.

Zubizuri (White Bridge)

Puente de Deustu (Modeled after the
Michigan Ave. bridge in Chicago)

Yoga in English...for children.

The Way of St. James marker in on the sidewalk.

Plaza Nueva

Bilbao Summit of Way of St. James

I entertained myself by saying 'Bilbobus' over and over.

My favorite part about Bilbao was the name. You can put 'Bilbao' in front of every word and it makes it more fun to say: Bilbobus, Bilbao tao, Bilboa boat, etc. I also like that the Basque language uses the all too underused or forgotten letter 'k'. But I'm not the only one who likes the Basque language. Your favorite second president, John Adams, was also a fan. This monument in Bilbao displays his quote about the Basque people:  "While their neighbors have long since resigned all their pretensions into the hand of Kings and priests, this extraordinary people have preserved their ancient language, genius, laws, government and manners, without innovation, longer than any other nation of Europe."

John Adams in Bilbao.

Shortly after I left President Adams I took the bus back to the airport for my flight to Sevilla.

Bilbao, bye.