But I'm ahead of myself. The drive north to San Sebastian was pleasant and did not take long. We drove past stunningly sculpted mountains, carved in weird and interesting shapes by glaciers so long ago. Traversing through many tunnels (some short, some long), it was easy to see how the Basque region held onto its own language and customs -- until these roads were built, it was hard to get to this land except by ship, and that probably took plenty of time.
We rolled into San Sebastian along the Urumea River. It struck me as a very lively town, smaller than Pamplona, but with more people out and about. We drove past the building -- 3 Garibald Street -- with the flat I had rented for two nights on VRBO.com -- it was right on a small street just a short block from the ocean. Alas, there was no parking, so we circled again (not really having a plan, which creates stress for both the Iron Tourist and Mrs. Iron Tourist.
At the same time, I was listening on a conference call, all whilst trying not to get in an accident, hit one of the thousands of pedestrians crossing whenever they wanted, or get a ticket for holding a cell phone to my ear. The second time, Carol got out and grabbed our two big LL Bean (sorry REI!) duffle bags on wheels. Realizing my presence on the call was not important, and I had stopped listening, I hung up to cut down on the chance of an accident.
I went off to look for parking, and actually found some not too far away. Carol met the landlord's husband, and went up. As John "Hannibal" Smith was fond of saying, I love it when a plan comes together! I walked up the flight of stairs from the underground parking garage, and found myself with stunning views of a huge beach, a beautiful park, and all of the main part of San Sebastian, ringed by mountains. I knew right then that I was going to like this city, even if I was carrying my wife's purse that she forgot, as well as the red print Vera Bradley bag that almost lost me my man card, and my backpack.
The 5th floor flat was perfect for two -- a small kitchen, small bedroom, and small living room where our luggage threw up much of our clothes. Most importantly, it had a good-sized outdoor space with wonderful views of the city. Despite the heat it'll be alright. (Yes, Rick, that WAS an intentional reference).
So, back to pintxos. We were supposed to meet for our pintxos and wine tour that I had booked (ranked second on TripAdvisor, this was a no-brainer). Our GPS map program took us to the wrong side of the square, and we wandered around aimlessly, trying to find the meet-up point. To compound matters, the 59th San Sebastian International Film Festival was in full swing, so the crowded Okendo Square was not easy to find one's way about. Turns out our meet-up point was on the right side of the square, not the left, and we eventually found it.
Our host for the night, Josu, a self-confident Basque of 27 years old, quickly gave us wine glasses and we started talking to a mother and daughter from Austin. We were joined by six Swedish women who work together for a bank and take long weekends to get away. Besides Josu, I was the only guy on the tour.
We wandered over to the old city from city central (they are right next to each other). Josu explained that the British burned San Sebastian in 1813 ("we had to burn the city to save it"), which was a time in history when the British answer to problems appeared to be to burn it, so even most of the old city dated from shortly after that.
The streets were narrow -- pretty much only for walking -- and were lined with bars and shops. The later it got, the more the streets came alive. Only one street was not burned by the Brits, and it included two semi-old churches.
This is our third food tour this year (didn't expect that at the beginning of the year!) -- we also did one in Auckland and in Bar Harbor. This was the only one at night, so it involved the most alcohol -- wine everywhere, except cider in one spot.
We enjoyed talking with the Texans. . .the daughter had actually lived for a while in D.C. before moving to West Boulevard -- less than a mile from our house! Beyond that, she had worked for Ed Gillespie (well, she was on the Dem side of his old Quinn-Gillespie firm) before moving to Seattle for a while. Carol also chatted more than I did with the Swedish women, who were all quite nice the bit I did talk to them.
We went to six different pintxos bars and had two different foods at each (except for the last one). The company, Mimo, thoughtfully sent out an email the next morning, so here is where we stopped, as well as what we ate, appended with brief comments from me:
o Vieira y Gamba - Scallop and prawn -- delicious
o Guindilla Peppers -- ditto, and I didn't get any of the hot ones. Very few are hot, but occasionally. . .Apparently it is a tradition that the first person to eat the hot pepper pays the bill, so there is a lot of gamesmanship claiming that, even though eyes are watering and sweat is pouring, that the pepper is not hot.
o Txakoli Wine -- I'm not much of a white wine drinker, but I thoroughly enjoyed this local wine. We were all impressed with Josu's pouring of it from about a foot up. The pour was non-stop, as he had put the glasses right next to each other and just let it rip.
o Guindilla Peppers -- ditto, and I didn't get any of the hot ones. Very few are hot, but occasionally. . .Apparently it is a tradition that the first person to eat the hot pepper pays the bill, so there is a lot of gamesmanship claiming that, even though eyes are watering and sweat is pouring, that the pepper is not hot.
o Txakoli Wine -- I'm not much of a white wine drinker, but I thoroughly enjoyed this local wine. We were all impressed with Josu's pouring of it from about a foot up. The pour was non-stop, as he had put the glasses right next to each other and just let it rip.
He also had us throw the stems of the peppers, the toothpicks, and the napkins on the ground, as the Basque way. He made the case it was easy for the bar to clean it up. Seems like a weird tradition in these days of environmental awareness.
o Brocheta de rape – Monkfish skewer. Not my fav -- but it was fine.
o Txistorra Sausage -- encased in a greasy pastry shell. Fine but nothing fabulous.
o Cider -- not as good as Bold Rock.
-
Bar Sport (Fermin Calbeton Street)
o Txipirón con vinagre de Modena y salsa de ajo y
perejil – Baby squid with modena balsamic vinegar and parsley and garlic sauce. Absolutely fabulous
o Calamari -- Ditto - some of the best calamari I've ever had, and I've had it lots of places.
o White Wine from Rueda, Verdejo Grape -- perfect with the two squid dishes.
- Casa Urola (Fermin Calbetón street)
o Pintxo de Txuleta - T-Bone Steak. Incredibly tasty!
- Casa Urola (Fermin Calbetón street)
o Pintxo de Txuleta - T-Bone Steak. Incredibly tasty!
o Mushrooms
and Ham croquettes -- Loved the mushrooms, whilst the croquettes were fine (they are more Carol's thing than mine, and she really liked them. They were much tastier than the ones we had in Pamplona at lunch.
o Red Wine from
Rioja -- Now you are talking!
o Carrillera - Veal cheeks -- I was actually too full to eat any.
o Foie
Gras & Iberian Ham -- I am never too full to eat Iberian Ham. Fabulous. The foie gras was quite good, but the dish is so controversial now I felt guilty having a taste. (If that's what liberal guilt feels like, no wonder they are always so unhappy -- ha!
o Red Wine from
Ribera del Duero -- another fab red!
o The
best cheesecake from the city (or even the world!) -- Josu, I love you buddy, but let's not get carried away. It may be the best cheesecake in San Sebastian, but until you've had New York cheesecake in NYC, you should not make such rash statements!
o Drink: Sweet sherry wine, Pedro Ximénez. Uh, no, not a fan of dessert wines, so I gave it to Carol.
As we walked home past packed bars, we knew we liked this town. . .a lot.
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