Adult Under Construction: April 2011

The Easter holidays begin tomorrow, the second-longest break I will have during my contract (other than Christmas). Although I have not traveled much since I've been here, I've been reserving this week and a half for a trip back to Holland since I got here in October. Just to make it interesting, I'm planning to go to Maastricht without flying, which means my outward itinerary looks something like this:

April 21, 10.00: Bus from Logroño-Hendaye (just over the border in France)
14.00: Train from Hendaye-Paris (the world-famous TGV high speed train)
Overnight in Paris
April 22, 7.01: Train from Paris-Liège
9.22: Train from Liège-Maastricht.

I'm excited about taking the TGV, as you can probably tell. I'm also excited to see my friends in Holland again, and to be leaving Spain for a bit. I need a change of pace after this happened today:

This week was fairly easy in school, as it was only three days long and there were plenty of special events going on. Today I taught one class and headed home about two hours early. The joy of getting out early quickly disappeared when I stopped by the grocery store. These are some of the only businesses that stay open during the siesta, which also happens to be when I get off work, so I often do my shopping then, when the stores are not busy. Today, following my usual routine two hours earlier, I went shopping at around 12.30, well before siesta. Only three of five cash registers were open, but each one had a line of at least six people, many of whom were loading up before the stores close for the holidays. Needless to say, the wait was significant, especially as I was preceded by a group of around six high-school age boys stocking up for a barbecue (or so it seemed). Quite the contrast to what I remember in Holland, where every cash register stays open, and one store even offers a discount if there are more than two people ahead of you in line.

Another of my regular frustrations is the traffic system here, which primarily relies on pedestrians to stop the traffic by walking into the road. I don't always feel safe doing that, so I often put a foot in the road to indicate my intentions, then wait for cars to stop. But many of them resent having to come to a complete stop, so I've slowly adopted the custom of looking quickly, then charging into traffic. It worked fine until today, when I was cut off by one over-eager right-turner, who passed the car in front of him on the right in a single lane before cruising right past me, inches away. Later on the same walk, I was cut off by another right-turner who, after completing his turn, shifted into the left lane rather than stop for me, nearly shaving a layer off the toes of my shoes in the process.

So as you can see, a little vacation is exactly what I need. I have two more tutoring lessons before I'm completely free, and tonight is the final of the Copa del Rey, Spain's single-elimination soccer tournament (which accompanies its league, but is not dependent upon its results). Real Madrid is playing FC Barcelona in Valencia, the second of four matches in less than two weeks between these two rivals. It should be a nice little send-off, especially if I win the pool I'm hosting.

In unrelated news, I received my absentee ballot in the mail today and will be able to vote in the Canadian election (had it come while I was away, I would not have been able to). That boosted my mood after such a frustrating walk home.

My preparations for a working holiday in New Zealand have been moving along at a steady clip since my post on the subject. I'd been told that the visa application process is fairly simple, and that has proven true, although with one little hiccup. Because I've spent more than three months in a country that is not on the list of countries with a low risk of tuberculosis (Spain), I needed to get my chest x-rayed and send it to the New Zealand embassy in London. It also needed to be done by a doctor approved by the embassy, and the nearest to me is in Bilbao. Unlike when I had to go to Toronto to apply for my Spanish visa, this little trip allowed to visit a new city as well as get some business done.

I took the bus at 9.30 in the morning and slept almost all the way to Bilbao, although I was awake when we briefly got caught in a sheep-caused traffic jam between Logroño and Haro. I awoke later in Bilbao, and was convinced that we had stopped in Vitoria (which I thought was on the route) until a number of factors changed my mind: the presence of buses with the Bilbobus label on the side; the fact that everyone had gotten off of my bus; and the fact that the driver did not seem about to leave anytime soon. After clarifying things with the driver, I walked out into the sunny, 30°C weather of Bilbao.

Being in town on business, I didn't have a set itinerary, so I just wandered in the sun. I took a look at the famous Guggenheim museum, but was not enticed to enter by its ticket prices and displays (modern art isn't really my piece of cake). The architecture of the building is pretty fantastic, though. My wanderings took me along the Nervión River, which is tidal and apparently famous for being used as a waste disposal, though that has changed. I then walked around the immigrant-heavy area near the train station, which reminded me a bit of Toronto's Kensington Market.

It seemed a shame to be so close to the ocean and not see it, and I had brought my bathing suit and towel just in case. I also have a friend of a friend who is coming to live in Getxo, a suburb of Bilbao on the ocean, and I decided to check it out for her. Bilbao's metro system took me there in about 30 minutes. Without a map, finding the beach proved difficult, as the entire area of Bilbao is very hilly and kept me from orienting myself. But the hills also meant Getxo was a very pretty place, and I saw some of the first stand-alone houses I've seen since I came to Spain. I didn't end up seeing the ocean, but I get some great views of the area and plenty of exposure to the sun.

My visit to the doctor was efficient and generally uneventful, although taking doctor's instructions in Spanish was a new challenge. When the doctor found out I was Canadian, he asked why I wanted to go to New Zealand because they were basically the same. Then I told him that would be like saying Argentina and Spain were the same, and I'm not sure he liked that. But I got the x-ray done and the form filled out, and the doctor's blessing on my trip, so it was an overall success.

I haven't made Bilbao sound that exciting, but what really caught my attention is hard to put into words. I've read a bit about the Basques and have now visited two of their provincial capitals (San Sebastian being the other). One thing that I've noticed about both of them is their quality of life. There's a certain self-assured feeling in these cities that eliminates some of the hectic quality found in larger tourist destinations. There was no divide between a "real" part of the city and a tourist part, which is an annoyance in so many big European cities. More so than in places like Barcelona or Amsterdam, I feel like I can say I saw Bilbao. It is remarkably safe - I noticed a pre-schoolers' playground that was open to the sidewalk and a public square without a fence in sight. Normal pedestrian traffic passed right by them, and the supervising teachers did not appear the least bit stressed. There were also very few businesses aimed at attracting tourists, although there was a fair amount of English on the public transit signs. Speaking of the public transit, it was ubiquitous, clean, and safe, at least as far as I saw. And the number of bike lanes and public areas for recreation surprised me, even coming from Logroño, where people swarm the parks after 5 every day.

There is more to this impression, but it seems to me that the people of Bilbao (and of Basque country as a whole) focus on maintaining their quality of life and doing what they do well, rather than on what others might think of it. If visitors like it, great. If not, they might want to go somewhere else. I have the utmost respect for that attitude. At the end of The Basque History of the World, which I read before coming here, there is a quote basically saying the Basques just want to be left to be what they are. I understand that much more clearly now.

So, the visa application is in the mail (along with an absentee ballot application), and you now know how I feel about Basque country. Here's some photos to add color to it all.