Basque Country

Wednesday, May 13

We enjoyed the mountain views while breakfasting on our balcony this morning, and then headed back through the Picos de Europa and north toward the coast.  As we rode our through the narrow gorge, we encountered quite a few large tour buses, probably headed to the cable car at Fuente De; in several places, we had to suck in our breath, and Tom had to drive pretty close to the rock canyon wall so that we could pass.

Coastal fog was rolling in again today, and the sky was generally cloudy.  We'd originally planned to head for Bilbao, but because tomorrow's forecast calls for rain, we decided to put off our visit to the Guggenheim Museum there until then, and to see what we could of the coast today, despite the gray skies.  Since we were passing Bilbao anyway, and our plans for tomorrow are always subject to change, we wanted to make sure that we at least had a chance to see the exterior of Frank Gehry's fabulous museum -- just in case we don't return there tomorrow.

By all accounts, the presence of the Guggenheim in Bilbao has completely changed the city, sparking an explosion of innovative construction and design.  The former steel and shipbuilding city, the largest in Spain's Basque Country, has become a center of architecture, art and culture in the years since the museum opened in 1997.  Extraordinary as the building appears, it's hard to imagine that its presence had such ripple effects; that's power!  We spent a very short time, just enough for a quick look and a few photos, and a desire to return again tomorrow.

We took back roads north to the Atlantic coast, and then east toward San Sebastian, stopping along the way to walk around the harbor at Lekeitio.  Along with other towns along that line the coast in the Basque Country of both Spain and France, it fills with summer vacationers during high season.  All along the coast, we passed through small, sleepy towns that had an enormous number of condos; evidently during July and August, the beaches, piers, and streets are jammed, and prices resemble those in Nice and Monte Carlo; that was hard to imagine on this May day.

A little bit about the Basque Country:  It extends into two nations, Spain and France, and has geographically, historically and culturally been isolated from its respective "parent" countries. Both the French Pays Basque and Spanish Pais Vasco have been home to independence movements, and in Spain, Basque separatists have been responsible for terrorist acts occurring into the first decade of this century.  To the casual visitor, the most striking feature of this region is the language; Euskara is unlike any other language and may be the oldest European tongue.  Signs in the region are written in Euskara and either Spanish or French, and most Basques are bilingual.  We have found much less familiarity with English here than elsewhere in Spain.  (Speaking of languages, this afternoon, we saw destination signs for Algeciras in Arabic on the freeway; Algeciras, in far-south Spain, is a ferry port of entry from Morocco.)

Our interest in winding roads gave out before we reached San Sebastian, so we headed to Vitoria, our base for two nights.  After some grocery shopping, we checked in to our apartment -- two bedrooms, balcony, lots of room -- and got down to happy hour, and planning for tomorrow.

Picos de Europa

Our goal today was to explore the Picos de Europa mountain range and National Park in northern Spain, but we were in for a treat before we even arrived there.  Just before starting to climb through the mountain passes, we arrived in Raino, which is beautifully situated overlooking a lake that was mirror flat and perfectly reflected the hills, bridge, and everything around it.  (Tom can't resist photographing reflections, so I'm sure you'll see what I'm writing about here.)

When we did get to Picos de Eurpoa, we covered it from bottom to top several times over.  First, we rose through forested mountain passes, and stretches of broad vistas -- blue skies over deep green mountainsides dropping down to valley floors. Down below, narrow roads snaked alongside swift streams through steep gorges, rocky mountains towering above us on both sides.  
Around noon, as we were on the northernmost leg of our drive, which came within 20 miles of the ocean, we could see coastal fog hovering around the peaks that paralleled the coast.  With fingers crossed, we headed south and west to Fuente De, where we hoped to ride a cable car to the top of one of the peaks.  Luck was with us, and we'd left the fog behind long before reaching the mountain.

We rode the cable car up and spent about an hour and a half walking around and enjoying the views both down (far down) to the valley floor and up and around at the partially-snow-covered peaks that surrounded us.  In one area, there's a viewing platform with one section suspended over the cliff, with just a metal grate underfoot.   Eventually, we each got up enough nerve to step out onto it, holding on for dear life; the updraft was fierce!
Once down on terra firma, we headed to our home for the night, an inn on the banks of a river, with lovely gardens and a view of the high peaks from our balcony -- a fine place for happy hour.
We headed into the nearby small town of Potes for dinner with three places in mind as restaurant possibilities.  One we could not find, and two were closed.  However, when we were at one of them, a young local man suggested a place nearby we might try, and it turned out to be a great tip.  We had a regional specialty we'd read about, cocido lebaniego, (a soup/stew with several kinds of meat, veggies, chick peas, and noodles) and it was out of this world.  Don't know what we missed when our first three restaurant choices didn't pan out, but this was definitely a case of three strikes making a home run!
The doors to our balcony are open and I think the river will sing us to sleep after this lovely day.