It would have been a shame to go through Basque Country without stopping by to visit everyone I know there. It's not like it is a quick train ride away. Garbiñe lives in a small town outside of Pamplona that is called Olazti. She is (what we would call in America) a country-girl. She has horses, dogs, chickens, and even a little plot of farm that her family uses to grow fruits and vegetables. For any lover of cultural appropriation and organic farming like myself, this place is a dream come true. Did I mention that she also speaks 7 languages?
She took us on an awesome hike through the mountains near her house. The views were beautiful. We also got to see many animals roaming freely in the hills. It was quite inspiring. It was also fun to go up there at night. We went to an isolated place in the middle of the mountain that was pitch black. We could see nothing. But we could hear all of the bells on the animals as they walked around us in the surrounding. Nino played some guitar. It was rather hopeless romantic, and right down my alley.
We also went around to many small villages to examine all of the culture. The entire week was host to many parties in the region. They are more like street festivals that go really late into the morning. In fact, we went to one in a village near Olazti. We didn't leave the house until 3 in the morning. Apparently that is rather typical here. We stayed out all night, and even caught the sunrise. We didn't return until 9 am. The bus ride home was rather hilarious. We were with about 30 other drunken kids our age as we were crammed into the bus. They got a kick out of us because we were Americans, and they especially loved my txapela. Garbiñe had to deal with me ranting on about alcohol as a social lubricant when we returned that morning. It lasted about an hour. She is a saint for her patience.
Finally, we went to a place called Zuggarramurdi. It is one of the last places in Europe to hold on to its pagan beliefs; only to fall at the hands of the Inquisition witch hunts in 1667. I am really into this place so it was an awesome adventure. If only the history held the beauty of the caves.
The final night, we stopped by to visit my friend Maialen in a village near by. She had just returned from Birmingham, where I had met both her and Garbiñe. She came dressed in a ceremonial dress that is only used for festivals. It was a trip! It was awesome to reunite with both of them in their home towns. It was nearly surreal. I tried explaning the feeling in the car on the way back, but it was nearly impossible. We ended our time there with both of them doing a traditional dance to music that was lighting up the streets in the village of Araia.
The experience there was awesome. Garbiñe and her family were great to us. I thank them dearly, and hope to stop by again someday. Her hospitality reminded me of the reason I have become so deeply infatuated with Basque history and culture in the first place.
Leaving Spain was a rather emotional thing. So much was left behind. It is such a special place, and it will always hold a safe spot in my heart for so many great reasons.
She took us on an awesome hike through the mountains near her house. The views were beautiful. We also got to see many animals roaming freely in the hills. It was quite inspiring. It was also fun to go up there at night. We went to an isolated place in the middle of the mountain that was pitch black. We could see nothing. But we could hear all of the bells on the animals as they walked around us in the surrounding. Nino played some guitar. It was rather hopeless romantic, and right down my alley.
We also went around to many small villages to examine all of the culture. The entire week was host to many parties in the region. They are more like street festivals that go really late into the morning. In fact, we went to one in a village near Olazti. We didn't leave the house until 3 in the morning. Apparently that is rather typical here. We stayed out all night, and even caught the sunrise. We didn't return until 9 am. The bus ride home was rather hilarious. We were with about 30 other drunken kids our age as we were crammed into the bus. They got a kick out of us because we were Americans, and they especially loved my txapela. Garbiñe had to deal with me ranting on about alcohol as a social lubricant when we returned that morning. It lasted about an hour. She is a saint for her patience.
Finally, we went to a place called Zuggarramurdi. It is one of the last places in Europe to hold on to its pagan beliefs; only to fall at the hands of the Inquisition witch hunts in 1667. I am really into this place so it was an awesome adventure. If only the history held the beauty of the caves.
The final night, we stopped by to visit my friend Maialen in a village near by. She had just returned from Birmingham, where I had met both her and Garbiñe. She came dressed in a ceremonial dress that is only used for festivals. It was a trip! It was awesome to reunite with both of them in their home towns. It was nearly surreal. I tried explaning the feeling in the car on the way back, but it was nearly impossible. We ended our time there with both of them doing a traditional dance to music that was lighting up the streets in the village of Araia.
The experience there was awesome. Garbiñe and her family were great to us. I thank them dearly, and hope to stop by again someday. Her hospitality reminded me of the reason I have become so deeply infatuated with Basque history and culture in the first place.
Leaving Spain was a rather emotional thing. So much was left behind. It is such a special place, and it will always hold a safe spot in my heart for so many great reasons.
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