Divamensch
MON AUG 10
This was the day of our biggest excursion - - Mallery had booked us for a tour of Gaztelugatxe, a church on an island that was used as a location for Dragonstone on *Game of Thrones.* I haven’t even seen ten minutes of *Game of Thrones* so that aspect was lost on me but it was a fun trip.
I sat with Mike on the bus which was a fun way to start any day. Let me tell you about the shirt I was wearing before the bus pulls away from the curb. Karen took this picture on our second excursion:
Let's take a moment to appreciate this photo: the awning, the tins of anchovies, the shirt, the hat, and my somewhat cranky expression. It's a beguiling photo essay, a tone poem!
The shirt is by Willi Smith, an outstanding designer in the 80s, especially successful in menswear. My brother Howard was a big fan, he had four or five garments by him. One of them was the shirt I was wearing that day. I was visiting Howard in San Francisco about 15 years ago and hadn’t packed a long sleeved shirt. I asked if I could borrow one of his and he invited me to look through his closet. I found a shirt that suited my purposes and then saw this Willi Smith shirt at the back of the closet. I had always loved it. I pulled it out, eyes wide with wonder, and showed it to Howard. No words were exchanged but he knew exactly what I wasn’t saying. He said, “Yeah, take that home with you, I never wear it.”
It was a half hour drive to Gaztelugatxe. Our guide gave his spiel in both Spanish and English. He said his name was Stephane - - yes, he has French name, it’s because his mother is French. Of course I made a note of that.
Gaztelugatxe has been involved in various moments in Spanish history since the 1300s. It was amped up to become a tourist destination in the 1980s and it now sees a million tourists a year thanks to the *Game of Thrones* connection.
The tour guide encouraged us NOT to go down to the water, let alone out to the island, if we were skeptical about our ability to do it. Five of our group (myself included) did the whole enchilada, three went down to the water but not to the island, and two stayed at the top of the hill by the bus and drank wine at the bar!
The hill going down was very steep and not paved. Each of us had at least one skid but thankfully no falls. Here are a few pictures from the trip down:
And Mike taking a picture of Francesca and AJ. I love taking pictures of people taking pictures.
The path to the church at the top of the island has 241 stone steps. Here we are walking towards the steps:
We had beautiful views of the ocean from there but perhaps the best view was of the island from the lookout point at the top of the hill (by the buses). The view from the church on the island was nothing too special. Here's a compare and contrast - - Karen and Liz looking at the island and four of us on the island looking out. Big whoop.
Of course once we caught our breath it was time to go down the 241 steps and then up the steep hill. Thankfully the path going up was on stone steps and not gravel but it was still a workout. It took about fifteen minutes and I was huffing and puffing. In retrospect the whole point of the excursion was the athletic activity. Which isn’t a bad thing, right? I took this selfie of me red-faced and overheated.
The next stop on our tour was the fishing village of Bermeo. Our tour guide did his spiel about Bermeo and told us when to be back at the bus. He pulled me aside and started a conversation in French:
HIM: You speak French?
ME: Yes, a little bit. I studied it in college. And in high school.
HIM: Your French is quite good!
ME: Thank you. I figured since you said your mother was French you must speak French.
HIM: You were right. Where are you from?
ME: From the United States. From New York City.
HIM: Ah, very good.
ME: Where are you from?
HIM: Near Bilbao.
[pause, then speaking in English]
HIM: It’s been very nice speaking French with you. I’m going to tell you a joke. What do you call someone who speaks three or more languages? A polyglot. What do you call someone who speaks two languages? Bilingual. And what do you call someone who only speaks one language?
ME: An American.
HIM: [laughs] You already know this joke.
Here is Stephane, such a cutie.
And a few pix from the fishing village excursion:
It cracks me up how Mike is peeking in from the lower corner in that last pic. He's a cut-up.
Our final stop was Gernika, the site of terrible air bombings by the Nazis in 1937. That inspired one of Picasso’s most famous paintings (“Guernica”). The original Picasso is in Madrid but Gernika has a copy:
Hm, somehow Stephane snuck into that second picture...
We had lunch at a place in Bilbao. Most of the group had pintxos, small bites that are classics of the region, the Basque version of tapas. I went all Midwestern and had the nachos and a beef sandwich, both smothered in cheese ("queso liquido").
I could easily have eaten one or the other but somehow I ate two thirds of both. And had a little buyer’s remorse afterwards:
We stayed home that night. Liz poured me a glass of tinto de verano, the Basque version of sangria - - one third red wine, two thirds lemonade. Delicious and refreshing.
There were two guitars in the house. Tom and/or Bruce played them every day, it was one of the sweetest elements of staying at that house. Tom invited me to sing with him, he guided me through the song “Hi-Lili, Hi-Lo.” He sang a line in the verse then I sang the same line:
TOM: On every tree there sits a bird
ME: On every tree there sits a bird
TOM: Singing a song of love
ME: Singing a song of love
I sang the chorus with him (“A song of love is a sad song / Hi-Lili, hi-Lili, hi-lo”) because I know it from the Polly Bergen recording. I was so touched that he initiated that. I think other people liked it, too.
