♫ La Polla Records - No Somos Nada ♫

CARNAVAL! IT'S CARNAVAL! HALLOWEEN, BUT BETTER!

In the lead-up to this celebration I was misguidedly trying to ascertain the 'why' for carnaval. I was looking for a certain specific theme to celebrate, or historical event to rally behind. The closest I came to was that it's a social release before the asceticism of Lent. There's also an Italian connection to Bacchus, divinity of wine. But no one I spoke to cared about these reasons. Whatever the historical truth is, as a matter of experience there seems to be no real agenda except to party. Salir de fiesta. Once you see it in the streets you really do intuitively understand. It began like tapas - a few piecemeal costumes in the streets, a few instruments. The next day there was a drumming and dancing parade, with a lead conductor in LED lights and fairy wings. By the sunday in San Sebastian, it was difficult to navigate any main street without loud PA's, floats, and beautiful groupthink choreographed dances. All ages, all backgrounds, all shapes and sizes. The essence of carnaval in Spain is that, rather than dance and spectacle in Brazil, or elegance and mystery in Italy, it's more so for the satire and humour. For fun itself. One thing the Spanish stereotype has in common with Australia's is that we don't take ourselves too seriously. Many of the carnaval costumes are ridiculous, fun, or simply stupid. It's also celebrated all over Spain in completely ways as per its region.

On a friday night, my sense of disbelief completely suspended, I genuinely saw batman at the other end of the empty street, menacingly smoking a cigarette. As my friend asked for a photo, he obliged, staying in character by not saying a single word. One of the people.

Basque country is very wet place. Rain is normal all over the north coast of Spain - basque country is no exception. I was swimming through the streets of Bilbao. In San Sebastian we were blessed with overcast, but still got wet at the beach. Forever unplanned and by the spur of the moment, we convinced ourselves we must be at 'playa de la concha', the famous San Sebastian beach. We were not, but I think we had an even better time where we were. There were more dogs than seagulls and we had so much fun with them.

I went on an Erasmus trip. 58 euros for two buses and accomodation was too good to pass. Travelling alone can be hideously expensive taking the normal routes.There is always a certain intensity to group trip. It's hard not to think of yourself as on a conveyor belt of sorts. You are subject to the whims and woes of the group. You are also privy to the joys. I was glad to go on the trip with my closer friends, Naeem and Viv and Annika. We were certainly the most outspoken of the group - arguably the most obnoxious - and I know we had the most fun. Most of the other travellers were new to Spain, and it makes me laugh thinking of us four, 'veterans' of three months who have long ago shaken off the nerves of moving to a new country. We must have seemed insane to them. They were very shy, and organised into funny little high school cliques. It seems appropriate at these times to go off on your own.

at full extension

Ukrainians and Palestinians in Basque Country

Would be remiss of me not to mention the poignancy of dining with four Ukrainians, and a Palestinian in the Basque Country. One of the Ukrainians is from Kharkiv, another from Chernihiv, both really close to the Russian/Belarusian borders. We had a few really good conversations about their current situation back home, the type of uncertainty and stress they are accustomed to living under. During our walk along the San Sebastian promenade, an unexplained air siren rang from across the water. The Ukrainians took the absurdity well, laughing at the irony of hearing air raid sirens in the country they're taking refuge under. It reminded me of when I hear a loud bang in the street - for an Australian from the lucky country I'm unbothered, at most morbidly curious. For someone from America, your mind must be jumping to the worst scenario.

Catherine was from Ukraine, and it was her SECOND time on a beach, the first time being more than a decade ago. That was certainty obvious in her excitement, it was a little moving. When we hiked up to see the San Sebastian Jesus statue, she also insisted it was her first time on a mountain. I'm still not sure how that physically even works but I'm going to take her word for it.

I met a lot of four-legged friends on that beach - "Su mejor amigo del mundo es el palo"

I have qualms saying our tour guide was trash. He read off chatGPT, actively didn't care and thought that his apathy would be funny to us. As how-ya-going as the tour guide was, the most memorable fact shared was on the Bilbao city hall. Decorating the building are two small flags, one Basque Country and one Spanish. While it's federal law to fly the Spanish flag alongside any regional ones, the Bilbaínos got cheeky and made the Spanish flag comically small and the Bilbao one larger. When the Spanish government caught on, they forced the regional government to fix the 'error.' Well, they did, shrinking the Bilbao flag to be the same size as the Spanish one. In the same move they made room on a nearby roundabout, constructing a really, really massive city flag of Bilbao, which is white with a corner red square (The San Sebastian one is blue). I'm fascinated with passive aggressive small acts of resistance such as these.

Pinchos

I'll never be Anthony Bourdain. I don't have the culinary prowess nor the biting wit. I'm not even much of a foodie, which most people who run travel blogs are. Good food is nothing to me without its context (e.g. the people, culture, atmosphere) BUT I like food that tastes good to my tastebuds of unseasoned Australian world-view. Unfortunately I am no seafood man. That's a stupid lifestyle choice I readily admit - I ethically agree with seafood more so than meat on land, and it's so abundant and a part of so many cultures. But when I look into the eye of a sea-bug I get so nauseous it's like I'm on the boat it was caught from. A skill issue I'm working on through exposure. It doesn't help I'll default to the comfort food I know at any restaurant I go to.

That said, the array of tapas available in Basque Country is the best I've ever had. It's bursting with colour, and there are vegetables, mixed with flavour and seasoning and love. I had the same feeling a kid gets in a candy store, but everything was plated on a little piece of baguette. San Sebastian is in spitting difference of France, and it must cause influence.

club so anti-septic we painting our nails

A little aside

One of my friend's roommates is a racist asshole. I've never really encountered someone so outrageously unpleasant. He blames immigrants and latinos for the world's ills and yet lives with three of them. He claims that he's a 'translator' but has been seen working at a real estate agency. I couldn't imagine living with such disquiet... Moving out presents challenges of independence, but moving to a new country usually necessitates that you maintain a kind of open mind. A sense of decency will do, normally. Creeping on the other housemates and provoking my Palestinian friend's political situation back home is cause for removal, and maybe the Christian hell at the least for him. He studies international relations, but he doesn’t seem up to the task of studying either the international or relations. Speaking candidly I'm not quite sure what to do with people like him. Obviously he needs to leave the house after being racist, homophobic and more than a little strange to the other housemates. But I can tell there is some deep trouble inside him, some bitter conditioned reaction to hatred he has experienced in his own life. One must always stand up to people such as he - tolerance is by-standing when he is actively crossing the line. But as a long-term solution, I would like him to be okay. I prescribe him 20 years of meditation on a rock. (or therapy)

The Glutenheim

Viv can't eat basque cheesecake because of coelic disease (boo!), so this post is dedicated to her :) :) :) ♥

The exhibitions inside the museum are seasonal, and I think we got some duds. I recognised Jean-Michel Basquiat, but didn't fall in love. Most anything that wasn't obvious to me was a bit on the nose.

I liked this one though, it's got a lot of depth to it in real life.

I'm not hater of modern art, I make it! The phrase "I could have done that" is probably said a billion times a day in the Guggenheim, but the reality is you didn't do that. With that said, there's a lot of wanker art in here. A lot of real estate dedicated to head scratchers and deep sigh-ers. The building impressed me the most. I'm sure some of my friends will have deeper insights into the modern art @LaurenWilliams

Prado >>>> Guggenheim

Friends at the Glutenheim

Viv and I took charge of an exhausted and hangry posse, landing at a solid basque establishment for din dins.

Onto further exploits

Words learned in Euskara:

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maybe in another life