Copy and paste above link into Web Address Box to see the photos also in the text.
Bilbao, Guernica and Madrid
April 21-25
The Guggenheim, Bilbao The Guggenheim at night The famous huge floral puppy
At our next
stop, Basque country’s Bilbao, the quality of our extended, four-day,
self-navigated trip after the cruise only increased. Our final, overnight
sojourn was Madrid before returning to New York.
The bus stop in
Bordeaux, a barren parking lot with a few coach buses idling on the asphalt
shocked us not just because we had just got off a luxury ship after a marvelous
and pampered eight-day cruise. The trash cans attached to lamp poles overflowed
and a few a hangers on or derelicts if I may, hung around aimlessly.
A Mercedes
Benz van driven by a well-spoken, well-dressed Dutchman had brought us from the
ship. Dragging and carrying their belongings in an assortment of luggage, a few
of the bus passengers straggled along. We were all early and so could not
get on the bus. The departure time was noon. The dump which was
named the St Jean Stop only because it was across from the St. Jean train
station was a stark contrast to the beautified parts of Bordeaux,
credit for which went to Mayor Juppe. B said that we must alert Juppe about the
“bus depot.”
Close to
twelve, after we deposited our luggage in the belly of the bus under the
seating area, the driver allowed us to board the bus; of course, not
before stopping us from carrying any food in and instructing us to eat
something before getting on the bus. So, we deposited our food bag also in the
bus’s belly though the grub was meant for our bellies. Standing in that
depressing parking lot, per the driver’s instruction, most of us “injected”
some sustenance into our bodies. In our case, the two oranges I had brought
from the ship.
Soon after the bus left, the driver announced that food was
available for purchase. I wondered if this was the reason our food was not
allowed on the bus. Nobody bought anything.
The bus traversed stunning mountainous landscape, beautiful
country side--at times with a view of the Bay of Biscayne (wish the drive was
more coastal)--and several towns like the famous Bayonne, St. Sebastian and
others sporting beautiful homes and other architecture and I watched them all
pass by on my Tablet’s map, too, using the bus’s free WI-FI.
Around 2:30 my stomach began to growl. I was hungry. My
mind kept visualizing the snacks I that I had brought with me and had to put
away. I did not know how I’d survive till 6:30 p.m. without any food. My fears
were quenched soon as the bus pulled into a hotel parking lot. We were
told that we had a 15-minute break. The moment the bus stopped we all got
out and reached for our bags in the bus’s storage compartment. B and I had a
couple of croissants and small Danishes and some nuts we had with us and water, of
course.
Soon we re-boarded the bus and to my surprise we stopped
again about a couple of hours before our final stop—Bilbao. At this pit stop was
a restaurant with a store next to it that sold ice coffee and other
snacks. We bought a box of local buttery, almond embedded, typically
Spanish, made in Salamanca cookies called peronilla that tasted yummy. In Cuba I had discovered the dessert Turron which we looked for
in Spain and found some at the airport.
Finally, we reached Bilbao before schedule and
there was plenty of light still. The taxis were lined up along the curb side
across from the bus terminus where we got off. The place where we stayed the
next three nights was close by (when I book, usually, I check such
details). A young driver took the address I handed to him and within minutes we
were at our place which was very close to the river, stores, the famous
Guggenheim Museum, the trams, the metro, the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum and even
the main Abando train station from where we were to catch the train to
Madrid on the 24th.
Getting into the apartment turned out to be a bit of
a challenge as the key code did not readily work. At first I
panicked. I heard a male voice from the apartment next door and so I
knocked. A pleasant young man stepped out and I explained to him my
predicament. He spoke very little English and understood even less. At that
point, it had not occurred to me to use translator app on my Tablet. It turned
out that we had to input the digits in the code fairly fast. Anyway, ultimately
we got into our place. It was not very inviting as it was just one
long room but it had a large window and all other items and amenities
that we needed. Across from our second floor pad was a large
office building but luckily it was a weekend and we could keep the shades
open.
An eyesore in many European and even South American countries is the ubiquitous
dumpsters. In Bilbao one day, from our window I could see an old man with a pony
tail lower half his body in a dumpster. My heart broke. In New York, I have
seen the destitute look for food in dumpsters. The man spent quite a few
minutes searching for whatever. Finally it turned out that he was looking for
reading material. He rolled up a few magazines and such he found and deposited
them into a bag.
By the time, we made it into the apartment, we were
famished. I had taken some heat-and-eat, packaged food. First thing
we did was eat. Next, we stepped out of the building and found a super
market down the block where we got milk, eggs, some oranges, cherry tomatoes,
cukes, beer and plain yogurt packs. We had brought our favorite cereal with us.
Normally, for such short stays, we carry our favorite cereal from home as we usually
have breakfast in the apartment.
Once we returned to our pad and put away the stuff, we
planned our itinerary for the next two days. Guernica was much too important
and so the next day I wanted to visit this place that epitomized the
horrors of war immortalized by Picasso’s famous “eponymous” painting. After
breakfast, we walked along the Rio de Bilbao whose banks sport the
Guggenheim Museum, the San Mames Sports Stadium, the very
tall Iberdrola Tower on one side and on the other, historic
buildings converted to government offices and the Duesto University. Several
modernistic bridges span the river, each a unique engineering feat. On our way
to the other side of the river we were most impressed by a lioness
atop a very tall building. Later research revealed it was a tiger. Probably,
its sculptor Joaquín Lucarini had never
visited a zoo. The building itself is called the tiger building.
The humongous, crisscrossing metal ribbons that was
Guggenheim Museum dominated the landscape. Artist Jeff Koons's gargantuan flower puppy in front
of it did not particularly appeal to me just like Mona Lisa's eyebrow- and
eyelash-less, saccharine face doesn't. We located the tourist office in
that plaza and killed a few minutes as the office opened only at 10.
Guggenheim too opened only at ten. Not many people were out and about
yet though a man rolling down his carryon on the pavement set himself up under
a lamp post and soon took out several marionettes and a karaoke from the
luggage. Later that evening when we returned he was still at the same spot
going at his entertainment.
In the office, when I shared my happiness that the
attendant spoke English, not particularly exuding much happiness on his face, he
brusquely responded, "Why not?" The subtext here seemed to be
"well, some of you tourist morons don't speak my language so I am forced
to speak yours." Another foursome tourist
family standing near us, who spoke only Spanish was from another part of Spain
itself.
The attendant gave us a printout containing the bus
schedule and a map of Bilbao. He showed us how to get to the bus terminus
which he told us was a 25-minjute walk. Along the way, we asked
non-English speaking police for directions and a few minutes later, stumbled
upon a couple of people standing around outside an office building who could
probably tell we were tourists. One of them who spoke good English directed us
further. Soon, we reached the terminus which turned out to be right outside
the Abando Train Station.
The ride to the center of Guernica was 50 minutes long. After walking
around, and getting lost trying to follow the signs to the Tourist Office,
eventually, we reached the Tourismo. A pleasant, middle-aged woman with glasses
who spoke good English gave us a map of Guernica, circled the “must-see” places--all
within walking distance--and gave us the closing hours and opening hours for
the various places. It was noon. We decided to visit the La Paz Museum (http://www.museodelapaz.org/) across the street as it closed at 2 p.m. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin
Luther King Junior’s quotes were aplenty. Amen to Gandhi’s “Peace is the Way.”
The famous
painting The museum as a symbol of peace
It was a moving experience. A realistic sound-and-sight show inside a
recreated living room of a house the day Guernica got bombed, which was April
26, 1937, took you back in time. At the end of the tour, even with the cry for
peace in the museum and the reminders of mindless destruction, thinking of current
the military presence and engagements around the world, what with the ever
present threat of annihilation in this nuclear age--in some places, mad
helmsmen running the show--it was hard to feel optimistic about peace ever
winning completely.
Shots from the Park
of the Peoples of Europe (Pueblos de Europa)
Next
thing on our, to-do-list was finding some vegetarian food. Most places were
bars that served the ubiquitous pintxos (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pincho). In the Basque country everything is written in both in the Basque
language and Spanish. Thus the Spanish Pincho was the Basque pintxo. We could not find any vegetarian ones.
I was very hungry and was in the mood for ice cream (no, I am not
pregnant). It was a hot day. Every other adult and child was walking around
licking an ice cream cone. Most of the eating was outdoors. We found a place where
the attendants at the bar were taking lunch orders at a furious pace and
serving them at an equally furious pace. I spotted an ice cream case which I
approached and helped myself to a nicely wrapped Nestle’s Almond-and-Chocolate
cone ice cream. B had gone looking for some vegetarian lunch elsewhere. But
soon, empty handed, he was standing right next to me. I decided to speak to a
waitress about our special need. She said all we could have was Insalada. I
wanted B to have something more substantial. I decided to use my translator on
my Tablet and communicate my need to another waiter. He was very obliging. He took
my Tablet into the kitchen, soon returned and said, “Si.” I was thrilled. B and
I took our seats and waited in the glass enclosed eating area with sunlight streaming
in from all sides including the ceiling. Soon our two sandwiches arrived made
with toasted bread, cheese and tomato. I had not eaten such a delicious sandwich
in my life. It was clearly made with a lot of care and even love, possibly, for
it to taste so good.
After lunch, we moseyed over to the other recommended sights including
a mosaic display of Picasso’s famous painting (see above) as we took in more of
the history and facts about the tragedy of war that had visited on Guernica. I
just could not leave the town without buying a miniature 2”x4” clay
representation of the famous work.
The house I’d love
to own
Other attractive
buildings and sites in Guerncia
On our way back, we took in more of Bilbao’s sights. Near the
Guggenheim, another street entertainment stood out. Three wolf faces atop three
separate bundles indulged in all kinds of facial shenanigans. Obviously the
bundles were humans in disguise. I was very impressed and amused by this act.
We dropped some change in their donation tumbler. The wolf faces smiled and
bowed their head in appreciation.
The Wolves
At night after dinner, we wanted to stroll along the river but it
rained heavily accompanied by thunder and lightning. We decided to take in the
nocturnal beauty the next night.
Guggenheim was on our list for the following day. We strolled along
the river and once we got there, we learned from a young pleasant female
attendant at the Tourismo that on Monday’s the museum was closed. The Bilbao
Fine Arts Museum was recommended as an alternative. But we decided to visit
Bilbao’s Old Town--Casco
Viejo (http://www.bilbaoturismo.net/BilbaoTurismo/en/historia) in the morning. We took the
tram from near the Guggenheim, within a few minutes crossed the river and were
on the other side.
The Tram
The riverfront view was stunning with the city’s old, majestic
architecture hovering on one side beneath Mount Artxanda.
On the way, I noticed simple exercise fixtures right by the river
side which impressed me greatly. When I mentioned to this my friend in a
neighboring town, she said that such a thing was a presence right in her town
by the marina. Sometimes, you have to go far to discover something what is
right in your backyard.
Traversing the narrow labyrinthine streets with upper level
apartments sporting hanging flower pots on their balconies was magical. The
ground level housed stores with tastefully decorated store windows.
A recent addition to the landscape is the La Ribera Market (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercado_de_la_Ribera), Europe’s biggest covered
market, a stone’s throw from the historic (15th century) church of
San Anton on the right side of the River Nervion.
The Church & the Market La Ribera Market The Inside
We walked a lot, the best way to discover a place (Bilbao seems to
have been built for walkers) and ultimately climbed over 300 steps known as
Mallona Stairs with no idea as to what was at the top. Once we got there, we
saw a huge cemetery, a guy at a kiosk selling lottery tickets, and a park
overlooking the Nervion River and the old town. Stunning did not begin to
describe the view. We noticed on the ground a plaque that announced this spot to
be a stop for the pilgrims headed to the famous pilgrimage site Camino de
Santiago. Also, at the top was Cathedral Santiago.
The Steps 
By the time we came back down it was around 1 p.m. Time for lunch.
There were enough vegetarian options. B ordered a vegetarian burger, some fries
and a beer. I ordered a salad and a diet coke. Talking of beer, I discovered
Sol the Mexican brew in the supermarket on our first day shopping on the 21st
and I think I am hooked. I am switching brands when I return to New York.
After lunch, we did some souvenir shopping for friends and then
returned to the other side of the river by foot. On the way, made a quick stop
at the famous Azkuna Zentrao (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Azkuna_Zentroa)
A few shots of this
site (AZ)
A few
random shots
A florist window An entrance
A building façade
In front of a
store Satirical
window displays (different professions) More
Eventually, we made it to the Fine Arts Museum after a good Espresso
(B) and me again a Nestle Almond-and-Chocolate ice cream cone from a Chinese-owned
store. In Bilbao, the Chinese seem to have a monopoly on these convenient
stores.
There was a special display of a few works by Goya, the most
prominent being his Blindfold Bluff.
The exhibit outside the museum
As we viewed the galleries, B and I commented that his wife’s brother
Bayeu’s paintings were more evocative. Lo and behold, we later found out that
in a competition that they entered when they were very young, Bayeu won, Goya
got not a single vote! It was Bayeu who had helped Goya with his career in the
court of Charles III. Apparently, Goya was very good at networking.
Rembrandt’s “Girl in the Window” seemed to beg me to take her home
with me. If the place were not so heavily guarded I might have obliged. I
couldn’t even a shoot a photo of her. The seemingly distracted guards are the
ever so vigilant.
That night, after dinner we did take that night stroll. The whole
landscape had a whole different look and character what with the stadium
displaying bands of different colors, the Guggenheim lit up in muted lights and
the rest of the river front looking as serene as a clear sky with nothing but a
few stars and a waxing moon, and the river beneath, a mirror to all this
glitter.
Night or day, Bilbao’s architecture is a photographer’s dream.
The next morning, we took a cab to Abando and for our 9:20 a.m. train
to Madrid. Though nothing dramatic, but still something unpleasant happened before
boarding the train but there was not enough time to do anything about it. Photos
of the inside of the station.
As we travelled, the scenery outside was beautiful. Madrid which we
reached around 2:30 p.m. was a total contrast to Bilbao. The Chamartin Station
overflowed with people and all around it was ads galore and shops coming out of
your ears. Outside was even busier with a sea of people and cabs and cars and
buses. But, as everything was well organized, without too much hassle, we got a
cab.
As I hit the urban concrete and glass of the big city Madrid, I
wanted to return to Bilbao’s serene beauty. This was our second trip to Madrid
and so we were not going to stress ourselves out. We wanted this leg of the
trip to be totally free flowing. Our apartment in the northern part of the city,
close to the station, again by design by moi, was located near the Plaza de
Castilla Bus Terminus. Once we unpacked we went to the nearby store to get some
milk and egg and fruit.
Then, after leaving the goods in the apartment, we went around the
neighborhood which was lively and colorful with humongous travel billboards
that promised paradise and many sidewalk flower shops.
The twin Kio towers of the Puerta de Europa (Gate of Europe; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gate_of_Europe) dominated
the skyline. The center piece, the golden obelisk (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caja_Madrid_Obelisk)
feels a little of place.
Cameras
in hand,
hats on our head, and a spring in our gait, we walked quite a bit. It was a lot
of fun. I kept wanting to go to a park. The big ones were not close by but
Madrid has many parks which I call the “lungs of a city” and we ended up in a
small one where little boys were playing soccer. At one point, two boys argued
but stopped just short of getting physical. I admired their restraint and
wished that world leaders could have witnessed this. After videotaping the boys
for a few seconds we resumed our walking. Nothing like walking to discover the
nooks and corners of a place! The thrill of adventure is at its peak when you are
feet touch the ground. The public art work in Madrid is something that gives
you pause, too, to make you slow down just a tiny bit to appreciate one’s
surroundings and connect with the larger world instead of feeling weighed down
at all times by our never-ending preoccupations.
A restaurant
window with jars of various legumes The back courtyard of our apartment
The weather was picture perfect. The weather gods
had been extremely nice to us throughout the trip.
After dinner, we walked on the western side of the
main boulevard, looking for ice cream. I decided to skip it as I had been
binging on it in the past few days. B got the same Nestle cone I had become
fond of. The Chinses woman in the store was not very friendly.
We came out and sat on a bench on the side walk and
people watched to our hearts’ content. It was dusk. The play of light on the
various buildings was beautiful. An old woman was bent over like a hook yet she
walked like she was a spring chicken. An old couple was sitting on a bench each
one enjoying an ice cream cone.
Many of the passersby seemed like office workers
returning home or perhaps making a stop at a bar. We also mentally noted the
various destinations of the buses. Nearby was the bus terminus.
Once we returned home, we had our dinner and went to
sleep. Next day our flight was at 3:15 p.m. In the few hours available to us in
the morning, we went on a discovery trip, again on foot. Discovered yet another
park and from a hilly spot by the roadside took in an aerial view of a small
part of Madrid. The bonus was on this hot day a snowcapped mountain range for a
backdrop.
Snow-clad mountain top A lonely poppy in
the park A view of Madrid from the top
We were at the airport by 12:30 and returned home
safe a few minutes before schedule after being indulged in an over-the-top way
in the business class. Temperature at Kennedy was in the 50’s but felt just
fine. No place like home!
###
