No Entiendo! Welcome to Spain!

Getting up at the crack of 3am in not cool in any circumstance, be it in your home country, or one on the opposite end of the earth. Rev and i peeled ourselves from our respective beds at this ungodly hour and departed the plush inner London apartment, where we went on to catch two double decker buses, followed by a 45 minute express train from Liverpool st station to Stansted airport 34 miles north of London. From there we jumped on a seriously budget Éasyjet´plane down to the north of spain, at a small city-town called Bilbao.

3am is not cool

From word go i noticed the subtle differences in this new place from the chilly, regal vibe of England - now a hilly, picturesque Spanish city with a wealth of unique Basque province history and the architecture to go with it. Found a cosy hostel called the Pension Ladero in the old school historical section of the town (the Casco Viejo) and dumped our gear there. Though totally knackered from barely 4 hours sleep and a long morning of travel, we were eager to mosey around these new surroundings and find some cool stuff.

Bilbao hello

It being Easter Sunday, we´d arrived in the midst of some substantial Catholic worship fro the ressurrection of Christ, with Áve Maria´ filtering through the clean, modest streets, and a sizeable collective of religious locals filtering out of the main Church at the core of the Casco Viejo.

Just as London smelled Énglish´, Bilbao spelt extremely ´Spanish´, a curious fusion of cigar smoke, history, and old Spaniards. Being a smallish city of 350,000, at a non-peak tourist period, Rev and I most likely stuck out like dogs balls, me looking far from Spanish, and Rev a dead ringer for a German born Scandinavian.

Peckish after the long morning, we joined the locals post church for a delectable consumption of various bits of Tapas at a nearby Tapas bar, chowing down a number of delicious savoury Spanish bites, and some house beer to wash it down. Perfecto!

Chowing down ice cream at Bilbao

I had to pinch myself every couple of minutes to remind myself where i was, strolling through the slim cobblestoned laneways of the old city, winding through domineering 6 story 15th century buildings. It was fairly surreal.

Check out the 100 million dollar Guggenheim museum sood after, a recently constructed, unique titanium-tiled piece of modern architecture inspired by designer Frank Gehry´s penchant for fish, and we took in the range of modern and abstract art within it.

For two blokes who tend to view modern and contemporary art as a bit of a poundfest, Rev and i were suitably impressed with the amazing building and its content.

Tapas again for dinner after a good 2 1/2 hour siesta, and another couple of beers in an historic, ornate rooved, neo-Moorish Spanish restarant, then we trundled through the town now drenched with a downpour of rain, back to the Ladero to hit the hay for another day on this wild holiday.

Guided tour at the goog

Modern poundfest art

Rev and I in the drink

The Gugg

The Gugg and I