Day 7, San Sebastian. A comfortable room in a quirky flat owned by an eccentric Spanish lady in her late 30s. I will call this sweet little place my home for the next two weeks. The door opens to a roof terrace, the fridge is full of food and beer I bought from Lidl earlier, I have [...]
Day 4. Level of Spanish: shameful. Intentions to attempt speaking to anyone in it today: zero. High level of frustration and anxious wait for the start of the language course and for it to begin bearing fruit. Then again, the gentle application of my favourite poison can usually be trusted to prop up the confidence. When I [...]
Day 3. Level of Spanish: I can break ice and open conversations by asking people where their dog is or whether I can touch their hair. My ordering has become more confident but I still use the wrong toilets if the signage is only written in Basque. One of the most important skills in life [...]
Bilbao, day 2. The camera hasn’t been out yet. Level of Spanish: I get fed and watered and understand numbers. The streets smell of tortilla and cannabis. I’m smoking like a bastard. The people are beautiful and proud but seem to have some kind of quiet and serious, even sorrowful air about them. Lots of hot men. I haven’t spoken [...]