(View from our bedroom window)
(Our spiral stairs – yes, scary)
We took the Metro into Bilbao this morning. It takes twenty minutes from our nearest station. It’s a bit like the dart except it’s red and some of it is underground and it’s all in Spanish, but otherwise you could be in Greystones on your way into Dublin. We didn’t know where exactly the station was, our host Tate (pronounced TaaTea) was still asleep when we left, but we guessed it was away from the cliff! After about five minutes we decided to ask for directions. We stopped two men out for a walk and even though they didn’t speak English and also didn’t know where the station was, they found it for us! One of them ran across the road and asked another passerby and then came back to direct us. And there it was, just around the corner.
If that wasn’t enough, when we got into the station we didn’t know which stop we should get off at so we went to the desk. Using Tate’s little tourist map we indicated where we wanted to go and the ticket man came out of his office to show us on the big map. Then e told us about and helped us buy a discount ticket that cost €5 return for two! Finally he showed us how to use it. All in the Spanish language and a little body language. Go Metro-man!
(Yes more coffee pictures… but look I’m having tea. The label on the sugar? Guggenheim!)
(We got off at the Moyua stop….. I’m doing a little wave – “hello Moira!”)
And went off to find The Guggenheim art gallery. Hard to miss with that big cat (or dog, or piglet?) outside the door. It’s a gallery for mainly modern art. Damien Hurst of the cow art was there (well, he wasn’t there himself, his art was) with more cow art. There were jars on shelves with bits of cow inside. Nothing too gory, no blood or anything. A bit like a butchers shop, if a butcher’s shop had the meat in jars and the meat was paler (no blood, so less red). It represented relationships.
No pictures I’m afraid – not allowed. I did like his other one. A big glass case (about eight foot high by four foot wide by eight foot long), divided into two sections, one with a camera on a tall tripod. The other section had a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, pair of runners and an asthma inhaler – the blue one, ventolin. Everything was left in a heap with the inhaler on top. I’m not sure why I liked it.
(Big Spider chasing those helpless people)
Is art supposed to make you think or “not” think, just experience?
(Huge pigeon – nearly up to that man’s waist)
After all that art we went into the old part of Bilbao and just as we arrived a thunder storm with lashing rain began. We dashed into the nearest cafe and the nice waiter apologised for not being able to speak English, we apologised for not being able to speak Spanish, we all smiled…..
We’re off again tomorrow, don’t know where yet, probably west…
Adiós amigos, Mairead.
P.S. I left the window open last night to listen to the waves – very soothing. Unfortunately, some biting creature took the opportunity to come in and bite me, many times – not soothing. Latest news – they are getting itchy and growing. Treating with Tea Tree. Is helping. Send advice.
One thought on “May Day in Bilbao”
Do not leave the window open at night time! Unless you have a grid to keep the bugs out!
Have you got an antihistamine? Like Pirotin or Clarityn? If not, the Spanish chemists are brilliant, I managed to get a cure for an absess in Cadiz with no spanish/english translation at all. You just need something to work from the inside out too. Tiny tablet, so don’t worry.
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