Monday, July 12th, was a day of transition for us – from the craziness of Pamplona and San Fermin, to San Sebastian (aka Donostia), the place where Spaniards and other Europeans go to take fancy getaways. We woke up in our teeny tiny twin-bed pension in Pamplona, sweaty and exhausted. You see, the night before, we celebrated a lot. After we celebrated, we attempted a small amount of sleep through the noise of the celebrations on the street. It was bittersweet sleeplessness that amounted to taking power naps in between startling, but so intriguing, fun noises outside.
Anyway, a two hour train ride took us from lovely, but a little worse for wear Pamplona, to impeccably clean, beautifully designed, seaside San Sebastian. Two cities of contrast. In San Sebastian, people wore clothes of all colors, they looked rested, they sipped their vino tinto and cerveza as if they had all the time in the world, they napped on the beach, they shopped for lovely clothes, they took in the near tropic scenery, and they ate many wonderful, heavenly things (imagine the classic café scene in When Harry Met Sally). We assessed the new locale immediately at the train station and on our taxi ride to Hesperia Donastia Hotel, our home for the next three nights, and vowed to go with the flow. You know what they say, when in San Sebastian… Oh, yes, the next few days were going to be really challenging for us.
But first…a siesta…then San Sebastian nightlife. Our hotel was located a little ways from the heart of San Sebastian, but Buses 5 and 25 were fast, cheap, and took us right to Parte Vieja (Old Quarter). It was a lively, historical part of town and a small area (6 tiny blocks by 8 tiny blocks) where we spent a good portion of our time there. The streets were old, narrow, made for foot traffic only, and were filled with cute clothing stores, pastelarias and gelato shops, and…tapas bars.
TAPAS 101: I’m pretty certain we’ve mentioned going to a tapas bar before in Barcelona, but eating tapas (there’s actually a verb for it – tapear) in Northern Spain, Basque country, is a whole different experience. A tapas bar/restaurant is merely a place to eat (standing or sitting); where they dishes are prepared constantly; where the flavorful food is made in appetizer-sized portions (1-3 bites); where the food is presented along a bar on cute plates and platters; and where the custom is to just ask for a plate, grab a few individual tapas per person (cafeteria style) and a drink; consume loudly (many exclamation points); pay; and then move onto the next tapas bar. It’s a mobile dining experience. It’s also a fantastic way to sample mucho-mucho delicious flavors and items (looking for each bar’s super-special item), have a small glass of wine (the pours are tiny – to promote the mobile experience), and then work off a few calories by walking to the next bar (really just a few steps away – perhaps 1 calorie). NOTE: There are tapas bars in Barcelona, but it’s not nearly as much a part of the food culture as it is in Northern Spain. We’ve found that most Barcelona tapas places are also more sit-down experiences, than sample-n-scoot. This is not to say they’re not good, it’s just not quite the experience of tapas in the North.
So…we took a first stab at tapeando (also referred to as picar, meaning “to go on a tapas crawl,” or pica-pica) on our first night, wandering a little aimlessly, but sampling quite a few yummy, bite sized treats – crunchy on the outside, creamy on the inside croquettes; peppers wrapped in anchovies; mushroom-filled tarts; and fresh cod on even fresher bread. As newbies to the experience, we enjoyed it immensely, but we got the sense that we were missing out on the inside scoop – the best and brightest tapas stars in Parte Vieja (see July 14th entry for our second grande tapas experience). But, we went back to our hotel room full and enjoyed the contrast of our current 4-star lodging compared to the Pamplona pension we just left, and dreamt of the days ahead – of beach time and more tapas.
