Traveling north from Barcelona I met up with my sister Till, who tearfully (in happiness) greeted me in the Pamplona train station. I spent two lovely days with her mostly sleeping, munching chocolate, and seeing a few of the sites in Pamplona.
Thursday morning the parents arrived, slightly flustered from their brush with the winding, somewhat chaotic streets of "Old Pamplona" where Till lives. Waiting for them in her apartment, I happened to look out the Balcony window as they drove past. I recognized D's hand clutching a map. I gave an excited cry and ran to get a sweater and meet them in the street. But by the time I made my way downstairs and popped my head out the door, they were nowhere to be seen. Puzzled I headed back upstairs. I kept peering out the window to check if they were coming, and finally I saw them way down the street. I guided them, in their somewhat frazzled state, to Till's where we all had a moment to chat before we left again to find a hotel conveniently located right around the corner. Once Till made it home, we grabbed our stuff and left for the weekend.
Our plan was generally to head towards France with definate stops at Biarritz and San Sebastian. D then suggested that we spend our first night in the delightful St. Jean Pied de Port. This suited me extrememly well, because it marks the place where the Camino de Santiago begins. Knowing that within the next week and a half Till and I would be at the finish of the Camino in Santiago de Compostella it seemed only right to start my pilgrimmage where everyone else does. And so lazy (car bound) pilgrims we became. On the way to St. Jean we breaked in Roncesvalles, an important stop on the Camino, which is home to a beautiful monestary, and 12th century church. I peeked in the stone barn-like building that houses the weary pilgrims and feeds them for a modest 9 Eruos. It looked rather like a hostel, except much more atmospheric, and likely to be quieter at night...and possibly much colder as well.
St. Jean Pied de Pont was a beautiful little town, very medieval in atmosphere, with tiny cobbled streets steeply climbing towards a citadel that sat overlooking the town. Our hotel was right out of my dreams, with grand staircases fashioned out of dark wood, and faded wallpaper showing scenes of hunting parties replete with dogs and red coats. Till and I had a large room overlooking the river. We felt luxurious, and pampered.
In the morning I suggested we all walk to the Port of St. James, one of the orginal entrances into the city, and also the official marking place of the start of the Camino. We hiked up the little cobblestoned street, past houses dating from the 1500s and lots of pilgrim hostels and information centers. We even passed a house that had burnt out hiking boots proudly hung over the front door. We ended up hiking all the way to the Port, and then upwards to the citadel where we got an amazing view of the town and mountains. It was sort of drizzly, and chilly. Very romantic and medieval in my mind, so imagine our surprise when less than an hour later we pulled up in front of a sunny white sand beach dotted with sunbathers.
Biarritz was at least ten degrees warmer than it was only a couple of kilometers away in St. Jean. There were even people swimming in the ocean! I felt very sorry that I had talked myself out of bringing my bathing suit. We checked into the hotel Marbella, and found another cozy Mom and Pop type of hotel like the night before. We had been promised free WiFi, but as soon as we went to check our emails (really facebook) it stopped working. I was forceful with the desk clerk, but to no avail, I was internetless. Anyway, we spent the rest of the day wandering around the craggy penninsulas admiring the blue sea and feeling the sun on our faces. Biarritz itself, or at least the part we were staying in, was mostly modern, a little too oriented towards functioning as a party town for my taste. In short it was tacky, certainly the architecture wasn't anything to write home about, so I won't. We did have a lovely dinner though at a local restaurant with a healthy mix of locals and tourists. Dad and I had a kind of seafood kabab that came on a long skewer with its own stand. Mmmm, the jumbo shrimp were cooked to perfection.
Next morning we slept in and ate some crepes for breakfast before heading off for San Sebastian. Oh, if we could have only known the pleasures we were in for. San Sebastian is the most elegant seaside town I could possibly imagine. Beautiful white, ornamented buildings, gorgeous Victorian hotels with grand dining rooms, a crescent shaped white sand beach set against the sparkling blue ocean, and a lovely port with sailboats and seafood restaurants serving you the catch of the day. Our hotel was right off the main boardwalk, and we eargerly changed into our summery clothes and set out to beathe in the fresh salty air, and admire everything. We did some shopping, mostly window in the boutique stores in the newer quarter of town, ate some gelato, returned to the boardwalk, and then went out for a late dinner around 10 at a Michelan recommended restaurant in the Old Town. We had simply exquisite food, and one of the best red wines I have ever tasted (11 dollards - ha!).
Today Till and I made it down to the beach and walked in the water, which was delightfully warm. It was heaven, there were babies learning to walk in the waves, dogs playing, octogenarians taking their morning exercise, and lots of others just soaking up the sun. By far that beach was the highlight of my trip!
Now we are back in Pamplona and Dad, D and I are going to explore more of Till's new Spanish home while she toils away at school. Until tomorrow!
Challenges:
- Useless showers at the Mom and Pop hotels
- being poor when faced with beautiful purses costing upwards of 600 Euros
- not speaking any Spanish
Perks:
- everything about San Sebastian
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment