We'll here I am back home. Santa Barbara, California. Home of Karch Kiraly, La Super Rica, and rude, honk-happy L.A.ers who think that they own the place. It's good to be back home. But really, I'm happy just to see my family and friends. SB is a beautiful place. The Coastal mts. slope to the foothills flattening to the beach where the sea extends to the Channel Islands. On the eyes it doesn't get much better than these next of the woods. But all this said and done I'm not quite sure that SB, California and the U.S. is the place for me at the moment. I can't handle the rules everywhere. I'd like to make decisions based on my ability to judge what's right and wrong.
Maybe this is just my initial reaction to change. Well of course it's my initial reaction and I'm in need of adjustment. We'll see.
Back to the last few months of my trip. It's amazing how lazy I was writing this and how fast time flew. I believe I left off in Hungary. My plan after Hungary was to head down to Romania. I was intrigued by Transylvania, castles, the grand party on New Years Eve due to Romania's EU accession, and rural areas virtually unchanged for the last couple hundred years. I arrived at the Budapest train station early in the morning mid-December in order to transfer to a train heading in the direction of Bucharest. My connecting train wouldn't arrive for the next 3 hours and during this time I started to have some doubts. Did I really want to continue heading east in the dead of winter? Where temperatures can drop to -20 or -30 Celsius? I had planned on meeting my friend in Madrid at sometime and heading in the complete opposite direction with an exceedingly depleting bank account didn't make much sense. I took out my little organizer and made a list of 5 possibilities. Going to Romania, back to Berlin, staying in Budapest at a hostel, or with a friend there or catch the next train heading west. I went with the last choice. I checked the schedule saw a train leaving to Prague in 30 minutes and decided to head back to the Czech capital.
I spent a semi-frigid birthday and Christmas in the once Soviet invaded capital. I really enjoyed this tour of duty in Prague. Probably because I mostly stayed out of the touristy areas. I would walk through neighborhoods, sit in squares and read in cafes. A great book to read, especially in Prague because it takes place in Prague and is written by a Czech, is "the Unbearable Lightness of Being." Strange but good. I met some really cool folk at the hostel. A couple of savage Tasman's, a stony Canadian (from you guessed it BC) and a couple of wrilly Americans to name a few. After almost two weeks of guitar playing (I bought me a travel size for my birthday) and countless Czech Budvars I decided it was time to get to the Iberian peninsula.
Through Germany and onward to Paris. I spent a day in Paris with my friend Louis. I ate an amazing eclair, watched a weird movie and did a tasty bistro dinner. After goodbye cheek kisses to his cousin and her friend I hastefully grabbed my bags from his apartment and metroed it to the train station. I jumped on the train, unloaded my bags and went to put on my iPod. Bummer. The pod was back at Lou's plugged into the wall charging. It was alright, I had been listening non stop to anyone of my four different ones for the past 5 years. I slept upright in a seat that night surrounded by African immigrants. I woke up at the crack of dawn in fog shrouded French Basque country.
My final destination was San Sebastian. Or as I will refer to it for now on as "the Bastion." The Bastion is the cultural center of Pais Vasco, or in English, Basque Country. The Basques are a cultural group with one of the most distinctive and unique languages on Earth. No one really knows where the language originates from because it has no linguistic relatives. Some scholars believe it was the language of the original Iberians who occupied the peninsula thousands and thousands of years ago. The Basques were heavily oppressed during the Franco regime which ruled Spain from the late 30s, following the civil war, to the mid 70s when Franco eventually died. During this period the language was banned. Not only in schools or public but in households as well. A story goes that a couple was married for thirty years and only after Franco died did they realize they both spoke Basque. During the civil war the Basques sided against Franco and with the Communists. The communist promised complete self rule to the Basques if they helped in winning the war. Unfortunately they lost and the Basques were to pay a heavy price. A quick factoid. Hitler and Mussolini were allies of Franco and helped him with troops and fire power. In fact one of the first aerial bombardments was executed by the Nazis on the Basques in a town called Guernica. This slaughter was later depicted in a famous Picasso painting of the same name. Check it out here.
I really enjoyed my time in the Bastion. It's one of the most picturesque places I've been...ever. Two large cove shaped beaches are separated by a river that empties into the Atlantic. Or when the tide is right big swells come up the river and crash 20 yards in. Next to the river a large, lonesome hill bearing a Basque flag and a statue of Jesus is squeezed between the sea and the old quarter. The old quarter is full of bars serving pintxos. Pintxos, or tapas, are little snacks that one eats generally during lunch or before dinner. The Bastion has the reputation of having the tastiest ones in Spain, but also the most expensive. Here's a picture. During my stay I went on hikes through the surrounding hills, played soccer on the beach, played more guitar, met fabulous people and rang in the new year. The Bastion is truly a special place and I can say very confidently that it's my favorite small city that I went to in Europe. Go if you can.
After two weeks, I decided to head west along the northern coast of Spain. While in San Sebastian I met a girl who was to be studying there for the semester. Classes didn't start for a little while so she decided to join me for about a week. We went to the provinces of Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia. They are all quite small but unique in their own ways. Asturias is famous for its sidra, a cider made of apples, Galicia for its language and Celtic heritage and Cantabria, well actually it doesn't have much going on but that's what makes it unique. We departed in Santiago de Compostella, a famous destination for many catholic pilgrims. There is an amazing cathedral there and we stayed with a nice guy who we met on couchsurfing.com.
Lisbon was my next stop. An amazing city, which I fell in love with. I met amazing people, saw things my mind hardly could comprehend, and discovered some fantastic music. For these reasons and many more I am going to devote the next post entirely to the Portuguese capital.
Till Next Time...Ciao.
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