There and Back Again: Donostia the Sequel

We interrupt this program to briefly update about my spontaneous trip to San Sebastian this past weekend.

I must say, I am quite proud of myself. The first time I went to San Sebastian (Donostia in Basque), I fell in love with it and immediately knew it was my favourite place in Spain. I explored the pubs, had my first tequila shot after several years, met some great people from my hostel, and pic-nicked on the beach. My last afternoon there, as I took my last look at the sea, I realised two things.
1. That peculiar shade of blue would be imprinted on my brain and
2. I had to come back.

Nearly two months later, I was having a bad time at school this past week (which is also why I haven't updated about my spring break). On Tuesday, as I stared blankly at my History of Spain notes in preparation for an exam about the second republic, I thought about how much I wish I could have been enjoying the sunshine that had finally hit northern Spain. And I thought: Fuck it, I'm going to San Sebastian. Just like that.

It amazes me how easy it has become for me over the past 3 months to just...leave things behind and go somewhere. It's something I don't get a lot of in America. I'm less restless here, because when I get that restlessness I can quench it so easily. I can literally run away from my problems and go sleep on the beach instead. Which is exactly what I did. The morning, I had a ticket and a bag packed.

Two days after that, I was sleeping on the bus. I woke up three quarters into the three hour bus ride, just in time for my favourite part. One of the many reasons Basque Country is my favourite part of Spain is the unexpected view. Contary to stereotypes of Spanish topography, northern Spain is emerald green and full of mountains and valleys. The last time I'd see something similar was southern Poland. The last few villages one drives by on the way to Donostia are plopped in the bottoms of the valleys, or scattered over river canals. If I could have taken clear pictures from the bus, I would have. The view is stunning.

But of course, it was not as good as being back in San Seb. The second I stepped off the bus, I got that "I'm on vacation" feeling again, except this time I knew my way around quite well. I knew where to buy the best fruit, where to get dinner, where outside to eat it. After it got dark, I didn't want to spend much time in my room because it had no windows. So I met up with friends, the very same people I met the first time.

It's another reason for my affection for San Sebastian: being one of the first places this semester to re-awaken my travelling itch, it was also the place where I learned the interesting mentality of people who like it as much as I do. People who live in hostels, couchsurf, or take off for the sake of taking off have such a weird and different way of relating, and I must say it agrees with me. They open up to you much more easily than in ordinary circumstances--even if or perhaps because they are aware you will not know eachother for very long. Your lives are only intersecting for a limitted time and everyone's so new to you that you don't stop appreciating them after a time, because...well, you don't have that time.

In any case, between seeing a few really great people I had genuinely missed, meeting a few others that made an impression, and the following day on the beach, I could not have been more satisfied. My Saturday was what I needed to take out the stress of the past week: a book, the beach, and that blue water in front of me. As I napped and listened to music, I would hear the tide coming and going between songs. And I could feel a slight sunburn and, I daresay, a nice tan developing.

As last time, I was sad to get on the bus back to Burgos. Perhaps this time, a little sadder. (this face is appropriate ;D) But as I sat in my classes all morning, I was certainly glad that I had such nice things to daydream about instead of listening to my professor.