After less than 6 hours of sleep, finishing our packing, and another in a daily string of opulent breakfasts, we set out on a walk to the San Sebastian train station. A 45-minute ride through beautiful green countryside took us to the small town of Tolosa on the Oria River. It’s a quaint medieval town known for being a trade hub and the former capital of the Basque province of Gipuzkoa and now for a tasty black bean! As we walked through the town, it happened that someone (me) needed a bathroom break. So the group stopped at a corner and Txaro went into a café to ask if we could use their facilities. They said yes, so I led the way in and confronted the restroom door. While the rest of the group was lining up behind me, I tried the handle, pushing and pulling, and nothing happened. Of course, I decided that someone was already in there. Waited, waited, tried the door several times. Eventually, a local man strode past the line, and easily slid the door sideways and went in (aaah a pocket door). Bathroom lesson #1: see if the door slides sideways rather than opens “normally.” Duh. Good running joke on me for the rest of the trip. But at least everyone who needed to got to go. Yellow arrows on the side of buildings or posts along the way on El Camino, “the Way of St. James,” marked the rest of the walk in Tolosa.
We were shuttled by the van and taxis from Tolosa into the tiny village square of Bidania, population 537, where we were issued our numbered set of metal, adjustable walking sticks and taught how to use them. It took a few minutes of practice, but we quickly got the hang of them and could easily see how they would help tremendously with the hiking. We set out on a 2.3 mile walk through beautiful farm land and forests with a steady grade that got quite steep a couple of times, but all on paved country roads with hardly any cars passing. We ended up at an old family pig farm, now kept alive by the current generation of the family, struggling to stay afloat raising pigs along with day jobs. They raise the only remaining breed of 3 unique to the Basque region: Euskal Txerria. They are comical pigs with short legs and big wide triangle ears that flop right in front of their eyes above extremely expressive snouts. The pigs are raised only 14 per hectare and feed naturally on chestnuts, acorns, hazelnuts and grass. We watched a few munching away under the trees and then got to see the sow shed with three or four sows suckling their litters of 6-8 piglets, and one in labor. Pello, our host, took one of the piglets out. No one else stepped up, but I couldn’t wait to hold it. It was a sweet, sweet baby. For a short time it let me hold it peacefully; it smelled as good as a human baby, in a piggy sort of way. When I tried to turn it around so the group could see its little face, it went crazy squealing and struggling in my arms like an angry cat. Back into the pen it went with mom and siblings. Pello talked for a while about the importance of keeping the old method of raising pigs, as opposed to the large industrial farms, but it is clearly not easy.
Lunch was provided back at the farmhouse in a rustically beautiful large room on the bottom floor. We were served the end products of the farm: thinly sliced Iberian ham and several other kinds of cured pork (chorizo, loo and salchichon). They were all delicious (I’m not a sausage fan, but this was different) along with pintxos, super-fresh salad, Spanish tortilla (basically a ubiquitous Spanish potato, egg and onion frittata). Dessert was a yummy, creamy local confection. It was a beautiful meal in an idyllic setting. We figured that the family’s partnership with VBT and other tour groups is also a part of the current generation’s ability to keep the old traditions alive and keep their land.
We were given the option to walk back the 2.3 miles to the village plus one more up the hill to our hotel, or ride in the van. Joe’s knee was starting to bother him, so he took the van and I walked. It was just so beautiful and peaceful.
Our hotel owners were another young generation working their butts off to re-establish their heritage after the disaster for their parents that was the Spanish Civil War. Our host was born in France after his family fled the Franco invasion of the north and the annexation of the family home and family-built 100-year-old, opulent mini cathedral that made up the village square. When they returned from exile, his parents were unable to reclaim their home, which had been sold by the government to someone else, so they bought a 17th century palace overlooking the village. In 2007, our host, after what sounds like intense negotiations with his parents, began renovating the property into a modern boutique hotel. The story is that his mom objected to the modern style furnishings of the lobby and rooms and after much discussion, agreed to decorate one of the rooms in the old style. Of course, no one wanted to stay there, and after the mom herself spent a night in that room, the issue was settled and that one, too, was re-designed into a sleek, comfortable and beautiful room like the one we stayed in. The view out of our window was tranquil green hills and fields and we could hear the bell gently ringing around the neck of the donkey just outside. Dinner options that night were to stay for only a bar menu at the hotel or get a lift in the van to the nearest restaurant another village away. All but two or three people decided to stay. So, the staff took our orders individually and proceeded to bring our orders cooked to order one at a time. We were served about two hours later, but it was worth it. Just pintxos and salad, but delicious.
If you ever find yourself in Bidania, Spain, the Iriarte Jauregia Hotel is the place to stay!
The next day’s walk was through forest, hills and dales on a dirt path to a restaurant on a hill with a gorgeous view of the valleys below. We were served as a first course a Basque specialty, alubias de Tolosa, or Tolosa beans with chili peppers from Ibarra. The beans are so beloved in this area they have their own week-long festival, the “week of the bean” or “babarrunaren aste” in Basque. The beans were followed by salad, tortilla, fish, and chicken. We drank traditional sidra (hard apple cider), poured through a special spout, and held about six inches above the glass. You’re only supposed to pour what you can drink in one swallow to fully experience the special fizz. Wine, naturally, was also available as it is at every meal except breakfast in the Basque Country (I guess in all of Spain). After the morning’s 5+ mile walk through the forest, I, too, decided to take the van back to the hotel, rather than retrace the route back through the forest.
The hotel’s kitchen and its “creative and renowned” chef presented dinner that night. It WAS creative, beautiful and absolutely delicious. It was a real unexpected haute cuisine experience in this remote palace in a remote Basque village. What a night!
We were shuttled by the van and taxis from Tolosa into the tiny village square of Bidania, population 537, where we were issued our numbered set of metal, adjustable walking sticks and taught how to use them. It took a few minutes of practice, but we quickly got the hang of them and could easily see how they would help tremendously with the hiking. We set out on a 2.3 mile walk through beautiful farm land and forests with a steady grade that got quite steep a couple of times, but all on paved country roads with hardly any cars passing. We ended up at an old family pig farm, now kept alive by the current generation of the family, struggling to stay afloat raising pigs along with day jobs. They raise the only remaining breed of 3 unique to the Basque region: Euskal Txerria. They are comical pigs with short legs and big wide triangle ears that flop right in front of their eyes above extremely expressive snouts. The pigs are raised only 14 per hectare and feed naturally on chestnuts, acorns, hazelnuts and grass. We watched a few munching away under the trees and then got to see the sow shed with three or four sows suckling their litters of 6-8 piglets, and one in labor. Pello, our host, took one of the piglets out. No one else stepped up, but I couldn’t wait to hold it. It was a sweet, sweet baby. For a short time it let me hold it peacefully; it smelled as good as a human baby, in a piggy sort of way. When I tried to turn it around so the group could see its little face, it went crazy squealing and struggling in my arms like an angry cat. Back into the pen it went with mom and siblings. Pello talked for a while about the importance of keeping the old method of raising pigs, as opposed to the large industrial farms, but it is clearly not easy.
Lunch was provided back at the farmhouse in a rustically beautiful large room on the bottom floor. We were served the end products of the farm: thinly sliced Iberian ham and several other kinds of cured pork (chorizo, loo and salchichon). They were all delicious (I’m not a sausage fan, but this was different) along with pintxos, super-fresh salad, Spanish tortilla (basically a ubiquitous Spanish potato, egg and onion frittata). Dessert was a yummy, creamy local confection. It was a beautiful meal in an idyllic setting. We figured that the family’s partnership with VBT and other tour groups is also a part of the current generation’s ability to keep the old traditions alive and keep their land.
We were given the option to walk back the 2.3 miles to the village plus one more up the hill to our hotel, or ride in the van. Joe’s knee was starting to bother him, so he took the van and I walked. It was just so beautiful and peaceful.
Our hotel owners were another young generation working their butts off to re-establish their heritage after the disaster for their parents that was the Spanish Civil War. Our host was born in France after his family fled the Franco invasion of the north and the annexation of the family home and family-built 100-year-old, opulent mini cathedral that made up the village square. When they returned from exile, his parents were unable to reclaim their home, which had been sold by the government to someone else, so they bought a 17th century palace overlooking the village. In 2007, our host, after what sounds like intense negotiations with his parents, began renovating the property into a modern boutique hotel. The story is that his mom objected to the modern style furnishings of the lobby and rooms and after much discussion, agreed to decorate one of the rooms in the old style. Of course, no one wanted to stay there, and after the mom herself spent a night in that room, the issue was settled and that one, too, was re-designed into a sleek, comfortable and beautiful room like the one we stayed in. The view out of our window was tranquil green hills and fields and we could hear the bell gently ringing around the neck of the donkey just outside. Dinner options that night were to stay for only a bar menu at the hotel or get a lift in the van to the nearest restaurant another village away. All but two or three people decided to stay. So, the staff took our orders individually and proceeded to bring our orders cooked to order one at a time. We were served about two hours later, but it was worth it. Just pintxos and salad, but delicious.
If you ever find yourself in Bidania, Spain, the Iriarte Jauregia Hotel is the place to stay!
The next day’s walk was through forest, hills and dales on a dirt path to a restaurant on a hill with a gorgeous view of the valleys below. We were served as a first course a Basque specialty, alubias de Tolosa, or Tolosa beans with chili peppers from Ibarra. The beans are so beloved in this area they have their own week-long festival, the “week of the bean” or “babarrunaren aste” in Basque. The beans were followed by salad, tortilla, fish, and chicken. We drank traditional sidra (hard apple cider), poured through a special spout, and held about six inches above the glass. You’re only supposed to pour what you can drink in one swallow to fully experience the special fizz. Wine, naturally, was also available as it is at every meal except breakfast in the Basque Country (I guess in all of Spain). After the morning’s 5+ mile walk through the forest, I, too, decided to take the van back to the hotel, rather than retrace the route back through the forest.
The hotel’s kitchen and its “creative and renowned” chef presented dinner that night. It WAS creative, beautiful and absolutely delicious. It was a real unexpected haute cuisine experience in this remote palace in a remote Basque village. What a night!
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