Even more than in Vermont, people are shocked to see me walking alone. Taken aback. I get asked where my boyfriend is, where my friends and family are, etc. etc.
How to explain that it just wouldn´t be the same with compañeros? I think and speak almost entirely in Spanish (except with Germans, who always want to talk in English)--and I´m pretty sure this wouldn´t be the case if I were walking with other Americans. As it is, I am not insulated from the world around me. I´m sure this is what folks find so troubling. But it´s exaclty what makes traveling valuable. I´ve fallen in love with Spain--especially the rural areas of the Basque region--in a way I have never fallen in love with another country before. I could see myself LIVING here...
Other thoughts: the bicyclists are more loco than I am. I don´t want to imagine churning up these hills on a fully loaded ride. Damn. It´s like watching an amateur rendition of the tour de france or something (no wonder the Spaniards kick such ass in the tour!).
Also: Spain is coffee not tea, dogs not cats, and wine not beer (well, quite a bit of both, actually, but, you know...). I´ve fallen into a terrible--terribly satisfying--espresso habit, the coffee is just so damn good everywhere, it´s hard to walk without it. So here I am, living my dream of living off of bread, chocolate, and coffee. There are panaderias everywhere, so I´m going through a loaf of bread every day or two, not to mention apples from the fruterias, and some verduras y tomates, and vino (muy barato!), and some sheep-milk cheese, oh! And yesterday I tried pulpo (octopus) for the very first time! The nice older German man I spent all day leap-frogging from Portuagaletes to Castro Urdiales offered me some at lunch, and it´s hard to say no to generosity. It was good. The best part was the paprika-laden olive oil it was cooked in. So here I go, putting aside all my ideals in the name of experience (and a bottomless stomach).
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