Sunny San Sebastian

There comes a moment when the summer is drawing to a close and one begins to hyperventilate from withdrawals. Reality of a daily work schedule begins to set in, and the summer free-for-all fun is rapidly fading, like the contents of my bank account at the olympic gift shop.

In my case, however, my kind and telepathic CS (couchsurfing) friends Laura and Corentin heard the little whiny voices in my head plee for one last getaway.

The night I met the couple, at my first Toulouse CS meeting last April, Laura had told me her dream was to drive a big truck. I burst out laughing thinking she was joking. I quickly swallowed my giggles when Corentin turned his serious eyes on me and clarified the 'big truck' was actually a camping van.


Well there it was, they had bought the adorable little red camping car of dreams at the beginning of the summer, and it was finally my turn to try out the overhead sleeping space.

And off we went to the pays basque, to glorious San Sebastian, or 'Donostia'.




After parking on the cliffs, we meandered past the port through the old city, admiring 'un vrai coin' of Spain.

Dating from 1912

My quick search for touristy no-misses led us around Playa de la Concha (my rough translation--sparkling golden beach of perfection) to ride the old world funicular railcart up Monte Igueldo to the attraction park and some of the best known spanish views.

Corentin and I convinced Laura to accompany us fear-seekers on an adorable rickety rollercoaster ride, thinking the scare level was for itsy bitsy little ones. The pictures Corentin took prove otherwise..






The other rides proved slightly less intimidating, poor Laura should have began with the bumper boats. She growled at us after, thinking we had done it on purpose...why I never..

The old look-out tower

Did I say a good view? I meant terrifying drop.

A walk around the bottom of Monte Igueldo found iron art sculptures with a background of temultous waves. We watched a bride and groom nearly get soaked as they had their pictures taken, and I continually hid behind Corentin to avoid the splashes.

Isle de Santa Clara

As the sun began to shimmy on down, I took it in hand and demanded (with my ultra-practiced pleading eyes) that we go to Santa Clara island, only a little boat ride away from the beach.



Once there, we hiked up the trails and found perfect grassy nooks for yoga, naps, or...well..whatever comes to mind. From the island actually were my favorite views. Or maybe I was just getting a Robinson Crusoe vibe, and felt like everything was especially brilliant.

At that moment, San Sebastian seemed the perfect place
to retire to play card games with friends day after day.

And the boat ride back provided an relaxed ambience with the striking sunset.
Everyone on the boat gazed back at the island,
sighing in admiration and snapping a quick photo.

As on any other trip to a country known for its delicacies (which is...every?), we went in search of the best tastes. I'm not a huge fan of paella, mostly because shellfish make my skin crawl, but I found a dish of stuffed red peppers and sweet sangria which gave me a satisfied grin. Laura and Corentin had their paella, and I'll just say that perhaps I made a better decision.

On the walk back to the van we breathed in the sea air as the waves were still crashing against the port, and the calm glow of the tranquil city lit our path.

You know those machines with the sounds to help you sleep better? I always loved the wave setting. During the night I woke often to the sound of the water slamming against the concrete, and I shivered in delight. However sleepy I was in the morning, I didn't mind!

We had originally planned to go hiking in the country the second day, but the beach was calling. We gladly answered. Vamos a la playa, right? We brought a classic french picnic-tomatoes, cheese, bread and munched happily in the sand. I then decided a snooze was in order, and pretended to sleep through corentin dripping cold water on my toes.

At San Sabastian, similarly to Rio,
a large lone white statue of Christ guards the highest point. 

For our final tour of paradise, we scouted the trails up Monte Urgell and thoroughly delighted in the castle, in which a history museum sneakily hid. A few rooms displayed pictures and video presentations of San Sebastian culture over the century. One stone room was set up as a genuine silent film theater with plush cinema seats. I could snuggle up to that every day.


Around the castle sprinkled little cells, I suppose the spanish were into torture? I'm not sure what causes my fascination, but I think I climbed inside each of them. At least the view through their little barred windows was breathtaking.

Saying goodbye to Donostia was more difficult than we had imagined. But we danced our way down the hill and vowed to return.