Dust & Echoes in San Sebastián: A Slightly Broken Trip
okay, so, i’m pretty sure i’m running on fumes and lukewarm coffee. the flight was…an experience. let’s just say turbulence and questionable airline snacks are now permanently etched into my brain. i landed in san sebastián yesterday, and honestly, it’s…weird. not bad weird, just…different. the air smells like salt and something vaguely floral, like someone’s grandma’s garden exploded.
my phone’s already dead, which is a blessing and a curse. i just checked and it's...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. the temperature is 23.42, feels like 23.85, temp min 23.42, temp max 23.42, pressure 1012, humidity 78, sea level 1012, grnd level 1008. it’s sticky. like, aggressively sticky.
i’m staying in this tiny place near la concorde - it’s basically a converted storage unit, but the view of the bay is decent. the landlord, a guy named pepe, keeps leaving me these little hand-painted rocks with cryptic messages on them. like, ‘don’t trust the pigeons’ or ‘seek the hidden tide pools.’ i’m starting to think he’s a performance artist or a retired spy.
i spent the afternoon wandering along the costa, dodging tourists and trying to capture some decent shots. my camera’s acting up, naturally. it keeps focusing on seagulls. it’s a recurring theme. i need a new lens, seriously. i stumbled across this amazing little tapas bar, ‘pintxos barra cocina,’ and i basically inhaled a plate of bacalao al pil pil. it was…intense.
someone told me that the best pintxos are found in the old town, but also that the street performers are aggressively enthusiastic. i’m leaning towards avoiding the performers. i’m not built for that kind of energy. i’m more of a ‘observe from a safe distance’ type of traveler.
i overheard some locals talking about a hidden beach called ‘playa de la concha’ - apparently, it’s only accessible at low tide and guarded by a grumpy old fisherman named manuel. i’m adding that to the list.
“Don’t go near the harbor after dark,” a woman with bright pink hair and a silver nose ring warned me. “There are stories… about things that swim in the shadows.”
i’m trying to find a decent coffee shop, but everything seems to serve this weird, overly-sweet concoction that tastes like melted caramel and regret. i need something strong, something black, something that will actually wake me up. i found a place called ‘café del mar,’ and it’s…okay. it’s got a decent vibe, but the barista looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
i’m also trying to figure out how to get to getaria, a small fishing village about 30 minutes away. i saw a sign pointing the way, but it was written entirely in spanish. i’m relying on a combination of pointing and frantic gesturing.
i heard that the seafood in getaria is legendary, but also that the locals are fiercely protective of their fishing traditions. i’m bracing myself.
“The tide’s turning,” a grizzled sailor shouted as he hauled in his nets. “Respect the sea, or it’ll swallow you whole.”
i’m seriously considering buying a wetsuit. i’m not sure why, but the thought of swimming in that water is…compelling. maybe it’s the salt, maybe it’s the mystery, maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation.
if you get bored, bilbao is just a short drive away. it’s a bit of a trek, but it’s worth it for the Guggenheim. seriously, the Guggenheim is insane.
i’m attaching a map below. it’s probably inaccurate, but it’s the best i could do with my limited navigational skills and a rapidly deteriorating phone battery.
i’m also linking to TripAdvisor for some restaurant recommendations: TripAdvisor San Sebastián Restaurants. And Yelp for some local haunts: Yelp San Sebastián.
“Don’t trust the pigeons,” a handwritten note was stuck to my windshield. “They know more than they let on.”
i’m starting to think pepe the landlord is onto something.
i’m heading out to explore. wish me luck. and maybe send coffee.
check out this local board for events: San Sebastian Turismo
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