November 16, 2008 § Leave a comment

I plunged right into it. Crossed the border from France into Spain, and got to the land of getting out of bed and breakfast at noon, shutting down between 2 to 5 for siesta and lunch, then basically partying from then on.

Brilliant concept. So I siesta-ed myself on my afternoon of arrival while waiting to meet up with John. I see him at about 9pm and he promptly tells me we would be going to his friend’s birthday. Since I had ‘rested’ up in Bordeaux, I was ready for a big night. It was about midnight by the time we rocked up only to discover it had been busted by the police for ‘safety’ reasons. Just when I thought, boo, apparently the party adjourned to a different location.

I let myself be led along and through cobbled winding streets and past Spanish bottle shops. At an old building with no name we stopped at the sign Kultur-Exea and gave the old timber doors a push. In the dimly lit space I was greeted by a giant paper mache doll almost twice my size standing guard by the stairwell. Up two floors the place reeked of abandonment and disuse. But there was a rocking party going on and that was all that mattered.

There must have been at least 50 people there and I joined in their merry-making. Some guys pulled out their guitars, one guy had his mandolin and with boys and girls singing their Spanish tunes, I found myself fiesta-ing with the locals. Pretty damn good for my first night in Bilbao. The next few days, though included the excellent Guggenheim (which I visited in the rain) and Hanging Bridge, was probably not as memorable. Gotta love Basque Country. Absolutely.


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