Hot! Bilb-OW



After hints of summer in LogroƱo, I woke up to rain on Saturday morning. I had hoped to go wine tasting to discover more of that good Rioja, but instead decided to head up to Bilbao to see the Guggenheim. I should have trusted my instincts to stay in bed and see a movie.

I took the bus, which was a better way to see the country and not as traumatic as Greyhound. But once I got to Bilbao, I was tired, not feeling well and totally perplexed. Bilbao has a strong Basque influence and most people speak Bosque, Spanish and no English. I couldn’t understand what people said, and when I asked my simple Spanish questions people looked at me like I was talking gibberish. I could see the light rail metro, but couldn’t figure out where it stopped. I could navigate the busses but all the stops where literally Greek and all looked alike.

I got a room in the old town and went off to the museum. It was a grey day, so the impact of Frank Gerhy’s design was muted. I’ve seen the light hit his Experience Music Project in Seattle, and the gugg was less than impressive this day. The museum prides itself on the intricacy of its curved design. In my semi-nauseous state, I found it… well – more nauseating. There was an amazing permanent exhibit hall of 10 foot tall steel, rust covered elipses creating a series of mazes. I felt like I was in canyon narrows, but the perspectives and sense of enclosure also made me incredibly dizzy. I rested in the cafe and pushed through the rest of the museum.

Afterward, I searched for food cialisforsalecanada and had the most bizarre tapas – again Bosque. They looked like meatballs, but were fatty, not spicy and served in a bubbly, fatty chicken stock. I didn’t catch the name, so for all I know, I ate bull testicles. Oh well. They tasted good.

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