Soaking up the San Sebastian Rays

Trip Start Apr 12, 2006
Trip End Ongoing

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Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Discovered in the wee hours that good ol´ pension Aussie was located directly on a construction area, as a bunch of workmen and their enormously thunderous truck commenced what was to be an entire morning of industrial noise. Nevertheless, we slept pretty much through it, up until 12.30 when we decided unanimously that a huge lunch was in order, bypassing the locally non-recognised meal of breakfast. headed down the laneways to a little restarante that served Paella, another main course, una cerveza (booze) and dessert all for just 11 Euro. I gorged myself on the local fare, and beer for breakfast was the perfect start to a healthy day, so much so that i could have gone for another siesta right then and there.
However the sights and smells of San Seb beckoned, and as the sun came out to create a glorious mid afternoon vibe, the already idyllic beachside stretch of this classy northern town turned even more spectacular. Walked the length of the beach and round to the opposite end to the fort, then back to the Pension Aussie, where Skippy was conducting a bit of drama, booting out a shady bird whom skippy presumed was a local streetworker, and hence a security threat to his somewhat less shady guests such as Tom and myself.
Met a friendly Sth African actor/playwright by the name of Ben, a friendly bloke travelling around Spain on motorcycle, and both feeling the pangs of unfitness, we trundled down to the beach for a nice late arvo jog, agreeing that pints were certainly the order ot the evening.
The big soccer match between Barcelona and Milan was scheduled for 9pm, so we chowed down some Bocadialos tortilla e chorizo - an egg tortilla with sausage wrapped in a huge roll, then found a pub, albeit Irish, and watched the game on tv.
Downed three pints of substantially smoother Guiness than the usual brew back home, plus a few regular pints of lager, and found great humour in the fact that we were listening to U2 and the cranberries in an Irish pub at the North of SPain.
Discussed the clear difference in drinking culture between Spain and Australia, in that Spaniards drink only to get a little tipsy, preffering a small snifter of the good stuff to get them chatty, rarely anything more. Nor do they seem to worry if they pour an inch short of the brim, or leave the pot half full of foamy head. This sort of booze etiquette could would inevitably prompt a series of headbutts and brawl back in England, and no doubt some stern confrontation back home in ´Straya.
Anyway, Barcelona won the game, 3 Irish ladies on holiday started chatting to us, the booze flowed on freely and the Irish music pumped on. Tommorow we head to Madrid. Until then, adios.
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