Spain
Part 7
San Sebastian and Shopping...Finally!

What's it like to sit on a train for 8 hours en route to your next destination, you ask? Stinky! We had to take one of the slower trains to get to San Sebastian, a town on the beach in Northern Spain in Basque country. Was it worth it? Hell ya! The ride through mid-Spain, so-so as far as scenary. The ride up through Basque country, totally awesome. I was wondering where all the trees and greenery were as most of the terrain we were seeing was red dirt, low mesas, and no trees taller than 20 feet tall. But once we started climbing on our way to Pamplona, the mountains all of a sudden filled with a tall forest of what looked to be pine trees, their trunks wrapped in a ribbon of ivy. We meandered through the twists and turns at a slower than usual pace, taking in all the natural beauty. And the towns? Beautiful as well. We passed through many that could of been Spanish Davis. Many people were out running, biking, walking, kayaking, anything to keep their body moving. There was a river running down through the towns reminding me of Truckee River meandering through the Sierras. More green, more trees, more quaint towns dotted throughout the mountainsides. Spectacular.

FINALLY, our final destination, San Sebastian. This town was suggested by Terry's sister, Rebecca, and again by Kate. I'd like to personally thank each as it is so much more than we anticipated. We stepped off the train and into Spanish Marin. Mercedes and BMW's drove the streets and a river, fed by the ocean, divided the town. Now, let's find our hotel. Could we walk? Exhausted, stinky and ready for a meal (not just bread and cervezas!), we stared at the taxi but was approached by a very kind lady who proceeded to point the way to our hotel. Could we walk there? Ci. So off we went, Jack crying and whining the entire way. Mind you, he NEVER FELL ASLEEP ON THE TRAIN! Damn. The kid was pooped but didn't want to miss a thing along the ride. Had to stop a few times to check the map in my Lonely Planet book. Shit. Where's the hotel?!? Asked a few people who were more than helpful in pointing the way. One more turn and we were there, right on the beach. Because it was the off season, we were able to get a good rate with a room facing the ocean at Hotel de Londres e Inglaterra (google that one). The security guard kept an eye on us as we were a weary looking bunch with loaded backpacks instead of the normal Louis Vuitton luggage. Sorry, dude, can't tote the bag o' pretention. Up we went to a room fit for a queen, king and little prince. Chocolates on the bed, marble bath, and a breathtaking view from the balconies. Sweet. Time to find some grub.

After some more deoderant and cologne, we ventured to the hotel restaurant. Our waitress was very kind and spoke English. Hurray! Jack, eyes half closed, enjoyed his bread & butter plus some olives off Terry's salad then climbed onto Terry's lap and fell asleep. His poor little eyes were half shut the entire time he was chewing. We ate like it was our first real meal ever (or in days) and made it back to the room in time to plop on the bed for a good nights sleep. Still felt like we were moving on the train. Don't close your eyes! You might fall over...

Didn't wake up till late morning. Wow! The morning proved to be even more beautiful than the night. A good portion of the town was walking the route that ran along the beach, all chatting and enjoying the company of the other. Wow. Our room looked like our backpacks vomited a spew of stinky, nasty clothes. Couldn't put it off anymore, it was time to do some laundry. The rest of the family awoke before I began, Jack in a very good mood, but up a little earlier than I would've liked, and Terry ready to take in a few more ZZZ's. Jack up early equals afternoon melt-down. No time to worry about that now. Time to clean up and stop avoiding the laundry. Hey, what's up with this blowdryer?!? No power. I could've blown on my hair and had it dry faster. I'm tellin' ya, girls, I'm all for the 'going natural' thing, but this girl was ready for a REAL blow dryer and other hair utensils. Frizz sucks. Hmph. Fine. Deal with it, blondie. Okay, onto the next task. The family needs clean underwear and shirts. Time to grab the travel box of Cheer and hit the sink. The closet was a perfect locale for hanging clothes as the bottom was carpeted and wouldn't make that 'splunk, splunk...' sound as the drops hit the floor.

Now, time to hit the town. But where to eat? This is not a larger city nor does it cater to the foreign tourist market. And to be completely honest, I was reaching my fill of being the translator/talker-for-all-seasons. Terry, too, was in need of an English-speaking crowd and a meal reminiscent of home. So where did we end up? La Vaca, yes, The Cow (Jen!), a beer and burger joint. Turns out that they have an English menu and a very cute, English speaking waitress. Loved her! After filling our bellies, it was time to hit the beach. How could we not? It was sunny, low 70's and it was out our back door. And Jack was more than ready to build some sandcastles. Let's go!

We dug our feet into the sand and found it to be fine in texture and soft in color. This was our day to do nothing. Jack RAN to the water, me in tow ready to join in the fun. Our stuff was safely set on the beach - no worries about thievery here. All three of us laughed and played and ran like we were ALL 4 years old. There were shells to be found, small treasures to take home as a token of our time here. The sandcastles were, of course, immediately stomped as fast as they were built. I hung back after a while on the towel and watched the goings on. People jogging along the coastline, students rolling up their jeans and splashing each other, and a father and son shrieking with pure joy as the water was a little chillier than expected. Pure bliss. Snapshot in my mind.

Back at the room, reality slapped me hard when I realized we had no food in the room and a very hungry boy. Time to locate a market. Cleaned up and headed to the market towards the center of town. Took the escalator down and found it to be closed. Damn. All that walking and not even a banana to show. But wait, is that a fruit market to my left? Salvation!

Again, back at the room. Can you believe that after all this time I haven't ventured out into the shopping world? No, I'm being serious!! Honestly, I really haven't been tempted...till now. And the times when I did have an hour to spend out browsing, all the stores were closed for siesta time. No joke, mi amigas, the stores close from 1-4:30PM and reopen till about 9 or 10PM. I had yet to time it right. Another stroll with the fam and it was time for me to get in some retail therapy. The timing was now right. There are a couple of places that I'd seen throughout the cities we'd visited. Zara and Mango were the hot stores, right Rebecca? I had to go on my own to sift through at least one of these before our adventure came to a close. Sorry, boys, but a girl needs to be alone on this one. Walked a couple of blocks from our hotel and found San Sebastian's answer to the mall and THERE WAS ZARA! I tried my best to hold my frizzy head up high as I found all the other shoppers to be non-stinky and well coiffed. Focus. I tried a couple of pairs of jeans and few tops on. Not fitting well. Maybe too much bread on the trip. Or maybe my attitude wasn't ready to be adjusted. Or maybe a little bit of both. I went back to the hotel feeling defeated. Hate that feeling. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Bing! Morning sports fans! It's bright and early, clouds in the sky, a father and son still asleep and a fire burning in my gut. No, it's not gas. It was time to get serious about kickin' some Spanish retail ass. Hair back in trendy ponytail, great-ass jeans on with pointy boots and an attitude that was more than ready to forget the last 24 hours. Bye, honey. I know Jack's going to sleep in 'till at least noon, so I'm just going to a few shops for a while. No problem? Love that guy. A cafe solo at the local barrista and I was golden. A little rain shower here and there? It just made me more fierce. BACK to Zara, BACK to the dressing rooms and UP to the counter beaming was my new found confidence. New shirts for all! Our constant closet reminders of our time in Europe. Time for more shops? Hell ya! Found a great place called Peage. "Blah, blah, blah in Spanish?", said the girl at the counter. "Siento, no habla espanol.", said the shopper in the great-ass jeans. Not a problem. Found some fab Euro-style, great-ass jeans and new-found respect for Spanish fashion. Little hint, lots of rhinestones. More on that later.,.

Thank goodness we had hit the beach the day before as this day was cloudy and drizzly. That didn't hinder our desire to drink in more of the coastline. We walked along the shoreline, found more shells, made more sandcastles, and just enjoyed the time away from reality. Didn't want it to end but knew that our adventure here was coming to a close. We took the train to Madrid tomorrow morning, then our 24-hour journey home the following day. With that looming, we drank in as much of San Sebastian as our bodies could hold. With some clean clothes and a successful shopping excursion, it was time to pack the packs and anticipate our early morning calling card. Thank you, San Sebastian, for a glorious couple of days. We plan to return.