Or, Not Spanish, Basque or How a bunch of girls drank me under the table.
I think I’ve discovered the friendliest people in Europe, if not the world. I’ve spent three nights in Azkoitia, the heartland of Euskadi, the Basque country. I came to visit Dafne, a friend I made in Chiang Mai, and her family [...]
Or, I fought Renfe, and Renfe won.
Getting to Bilbao was supposed to be fairly simple, but a series of late trains led to missed connections everywhere, and I found myself stranded in dusty Miranda de Ebro for about five hours. Never one to miss an opportunity to explore a new town, I went awanderin’ (with [...]
On Saturday morning, Sarah and I took a regional train (my favourite kind, really) from Madrid to Segovia and checked into the Pension Ferri, a guesthouse in a tiny alleyway off the town’s central plaza. Being an old stone building, the guesthouse was surprisingly cool, despite the heat outside. The owner gave us a price [...]
I arrived in Barcelona well fed, well rested and ready to take on Spain – or should I say, Catalonia. One of the first things I noticed on the metro ride from the port to my hostel is that all of the public announcements are in three languages – Catalan first, Castilian second, and then [...]
After four nights in Rome I decided that I should perhaps move on before my rail pass is entirely spent. Barcelona is my destination, although my plan involved crossing the south of France by rail in order to get there. Unfortunately, however, the rail routes between northern Italy and Barcelona are entirely booked for [...]