Wendy's Platter…travels

You kinda forget…that laundry anxiety does not need to be a part of your everyday existence.

You kinda forget…that hot water can come out of a shower within one minute and stay hot for your entire shower.

You kinda forget…that you can choose a comfortable temperature for your room with a flick of a switch.

Landing at our Airbnb in San Sebastián, it all came back to us.

In general, we have had lots of amazing Airbnbs: great locations, nice amenities, forgiving and helpful hosts, well-equipped kitchens, close restaurants, grocery stores, easy parking…But finding all of the above in the same Airbnb has not happened, until we walked into our San Sebastián apartment after 89 days of hoping…

Aside from being tastefully and thoughtfully remodeled, the apartment allowed us the most unique luxury of all…a dryer. Generally, Nick, who is our family laundry guru, uses a dryer as only finishing touch to fluff things up. He plans laundry days around the sun, rarely giving in to doing laundry on a rainy day when he will have to use the dryer.

In general, most of the places we have stayed in France, Spain, and Portugal are on the same wavelength as Nick and laundry hangs from balconies or is dried in the home on drying racks. That is all well and good if you have a warm, dry apartment or a few days to let nature take care of it. But when you are constantly on the road, clothes need to dry overnight

Waking up with ALL clean AND dry clothes was a treat.

San Sebastián sits at the corner of where the Iberian peninsula juts out from the European mainland. France is a mere 20 miles up the coast, and it is at the center point of Bay of Biscay which is the body of water goes north to Brittany and southwest to the northwestern tip of Spain. Most, if not all, of Spain’s coastal areas are considered beach resorts, and San Sebastián in the heart of the Basque country, is one of the jewels.

The town of San Sebastián is defined by La Concha, the perfect crescent-shaped beach corralled by a kilometer-long sea wall with a wide promenade and plenty of benches to sit and watch people, waves, surfers, swimmers, and enjoy the calm waters.

Like bookends, there are small mountains at either end protecting the beach, and just for good measure, there is a smaller island/hill in the middle. On the left, looking at the ocean is Mt. Igueldo which has a funicular that climbs to the children’s funfair at the top. On the right is Mt. Urgull that is topped with a forty-foot stone statue of Jesus that watches over the old town below and the entirety of San Sebastián. Santa Clara, the small island in the middle acts in tandem with the two-mountain geography to slow the power of the waves from the Bay of Biscay and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. La Concha beach enjoys long, perfect, small waves that wash gently up on the beach.

In the rain, that defined our first full day, the beauty of the city was hidden from us. We finally braved the rain to go to San Telmo, the museum of Basque culture and art. We spent nearly three hours walking through a visual history lesson about the ancient Basque society which pre-dates both the Romans and Christians, as can be proven with the stele (stone markers, often gravestones) recovered from the countryside. The Basques constantly fought to maintain their culture and way of life against the various ruling entities of Spain over the centuries. The museum emphasized the tenacity of the Basques to maintain their identity despite the chaos of world wars, civil wars, and dictators throughout the centuries. The Basque knowledge of the oceans and sailing contributed much nautical knowledge that helped bring Spain to the forefront of the world trading stage in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Considered an ancient language, the Basque language is not a Romance language. Linguists basically scratch their heads as to its origins, but there is some consensus that it may have originated in the Caucasus mountains. The Basque language has been referred to as a “living fossil.”

In reading street signs and menus, it was clear to me that the Basque language definitely has no connection to Spanish. The “x’s,” “z’s,” and multi-consonant words look to me like a secret cryptic code. Fortunately, signs and menus are written in both Basque and Spanish, and often, also in English.

The chances of going hungry in the Basque country, or Spain for that matter, is almost null. Much like Japan’s method of presenting food options plated to see what you are getting, the Basque pintxos (pronounced peen-chos) and Spanish tapas are often displayed at the bar and you only need to point to get what you want.

Perhaps I should explain the difference between pintxos and tapas. Essentially, they are the same idea…a small plate, sometimes just a bite, that you can enjoy with a drink, usually wine, beer, sangría, cider, an aperitif, or digestif. Although alcohol is not always a part of the meal, the pintxos and tapas are generally found at bars.

[Side note: what is the difference between tapas and pintxos? Tapas tend to be a little less elaborate but a little more substantial. For example, a plate of olives with some ham could be a tapas or some roasted mushrooms. A pintxos is usually more like a bite or two, but is more “composed” with perhaps a crab salad served on a slice of baguette topped with a pepper and a prawn.]

That said, knowing exactly what you are looking at is another story. Some are easy…a prawn is a prawn, a pepper is a pepper, a sausage is a sausage, but that is where it gets tricky. What kind of sausage? What got ground up in it? The blood sausage is easy to spot, it is red. But the others can contain items that even the US meat packers might not include in their hotdog.

We have never quite learned the etiquette of pintxos or tapas. Somewhere we heard that you just go up to the bar, order a drink and point at your pintxos of choice. There are usually at least a dozen in the case. The waiter will serve your drink and your pintxos. You pay when you have had enough. But that is not always the case, as some of the pintxos are served hot, and although they are in the case looking ready to eat, they are taken back to the kitchen to be heated, in the meantime, we are uncertain whether they understood our order. Despite that, we never went hungry.

Once again, we were smart and booked a free walking tour. Our guide, Victor, was born in San Sebastián, had married his English, English teacher, and brought up their family not far from where he was brought up. His stories connecting Spanish history to the buildings, with his personal history, gave us an in-depth look at how the Franco dictatorship affected his life and the life of his parents. In addition, Victor has a true love of food and was thrilled to point out each bar that had the best anchovy pintxos (for Nick) or the best scallops (for me) or how the Gilda pintxos became a San Sebastián icon.

[Side note: Gilda (pronounced Hilda in Spanish and Basque) is named for the 1946 film “Gilda” with star Rita Hayworth who was considered spicy, salty, hot and a little vinegary, thus the perfect icon for the pickled guindilla peppers skewed with an anchovy and an olive, then doused with olive oil. It lives up to Rita Hayworth’s reputation, at least in that movie.]

Victor walked us through churches, cathedrals, fish markets, the old town, along the waterfront, never missing a sight to explain or enjoy. We were so grateful that he didn’t cancel the tour as it couldn’t have been profitable with only Nick and I on the tour.

Filled with knowledge, but now in need of sustenance, we chose one of the bars Victor recommended. We were able to walk up to the bar, order a drink, and point to a couple of pintxos. No problem.

Walking on the promenade around La Concha to the other side of the beach where there was a funicular up the mountain, was our next goal. The rain of the day before had fully cleared the skies and presented us with a pleasant December afternoon for walking. With a vast view of the beach as we walked, which took almost an hour, we could watch the progress of children and sandcastles, surfers and waves, swimmers crossing the small bay, and windsurfers succeeding and failing and getting up again.

By the time we reached the funicular, I was ready to sit and let the very steep 1912 trolley car get us up the mountain. In about a couple of minutes the car had lifted us the 500 feet to the top of the Mt. Igueldo. Not only was San Sebastián laid before us, but also France to the north east and the Pyrenees over the tops of the coastal hills. It is an understatement to call it a spectacular view and I am humbled by my lack of vocabulary.

But I was also humbled by my acrophobia.

The terraces at the top were very solid, but I couldn’t bring myself to get close to the railing around the terraces. Nick stuck his head over the edge many times taking in the views, while I cowered ten feet back, but I had to admit it was awe inspiring.

Back on terra firma, we walked back along the beach and this time stopped midway on the promenade at La Perla for a drink and to watch the beach activity. This time I ordered a cava, a Spanish sparkling wine, and Nick ordered a pacharan, which is a local Basque liqueur made from the sloe berry. It was sweet and strong. I could easily imagine a cocktail that contained a small amount of the pacharan in a glass of cava, sort of like the kir cocktail in France. I may have to give it a try.

Knowing that we had a few things to work out on our computers before we left for Madrid in the morning, we headed back to our abode. By 6:30, we realized we needed to eat dinner and get to bed at a decent hour as we had to be up by 5:30 the next morning.

As usual, we were on the wrong time schedule for eating in Spain. Dinner wouldn’t be served until 8:00 pm or later. Tapas or pintxos were not always available either, especially the ones requiring a kitchen. Wandering in and out of bars, we found one just starting to serve and the place was soon packed. I like to think we are influencers.

As the end of our trip is closing in on us, I am hoping that I won’t “kinda forget” the magic of discovering new foods, new cultures, new ways of looking at our world.

©2025 Wendy Platt Hill

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