The next morning we said goodbye to Hondarribia and Txaro, whose turn it was to drive the van with our entire luggage to Bilbao. David rode with us on the bus and said goodbye at the door of the Guggenheim Bilbao Museum as he handed us over to our guide for the day in Bilbao. Whoa, what a place. All I can say is look at the pictures. The narrative is that the museum is responsible for the renaissance of Bilbao from a grungy industrial city to a modern, livable city with a lively arts scene. It’s a collaborative project between the government of Spain, the Basque Region, and the architect, Frank Gehry. As we waited to get into the museum, there was a family fun run just starting with hundreds of families in red shirts. Everyone in each family wore the same number. So very festive. We had a whirlwind 90 minute tour with our Scottish guide who has lived in Bilbao for the last 15 years. A quick lunch in the hotel, then a 2-hour walking tour with him to the old city. Very different from others we had seen. It was Sunday afternoon and he described how families all get together for drinks before lunch and then a long lunch; hence the trash all over the streets (?!). The young people were out there and loud! While the older people paraded sedately in their Sunday best. The guide left us in the old town to make our way back to the hotel. Joe and I meandered back, stopped at a pastry shop, a pinxtos bar and got ready to pack for the trip home.
The flight back to Virginia the next day was as uncomfortable and eventful (for me) compared to the easy flight to Spain. I must have picked up some food poisoning or stomach bug, as I started vomiting about half way through the fight and the rest is a blur. Hardly remember the ride home. Slept most of yesterday. Yuck!!! But it was really good to be finally in my own bed, even though I was feeling like death. That’s definitely the place to be for that activity, as opposed to an airplane seat throwing up into a barf bag with strangers sitting inches away.
The flight back to Virginia the next day was as uncomfortable and eventful (for me) compared to the easy flight to Spain. I must have picked up some food poisoning or stomach bug, as I started vomiting about half way through the fight and the rest is a blur. Hardly remember the ride home. Slept most of yesterday. Yuck!!! But it was really good to be finally in my own bed, even though I was feeling like death. That’s definitely the place to be for that activity, as opposed to an airplane seat throwing up into a barf bag with strangers sitting inches away.
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