Like Webster's Dictionary Redux

[f4f3]

Must remember that much as I love Twitter, entries don't stay around for long, and not all of my flist are on it... Can't believe I'm only on day two of the holiday. I'm now in Bilbao, in the heart of the basque country. No sniggering at the back there. Yesterday both S&H (son and heir) and I made our flights to paris, though not without some drama in my case (see unblinkered's entry for the case of the crap rucksack).  We spent a pleasant afternoon tramping along the champs élysées, and then had a perfectly acceptable steak frites on the left bank. We then hopped on the 2300 sleeper from Paris to irun. We slept reasonably well (me) and like a dead thing (S&H, who hadn't slept at all on Friday night). From irun we took a bus to Bilbao. We had intended to go by train, and maybe stop off at San sebastian, but we didn't realy have time, since the bus takes 2 and a half hours. This worked out well. The ride was fantastic, giving me a real feel for the hilliness of the Basque Country - I won't warn you again, Molesworth - and putting us in Bilbao in perfect time to check in. Bilbao is having Festival this week, and the hotel is right at the entrance to the old town. S&h headed off to investigate, and I went to look at the Guggenheim. It's a fantastic building, but it very much is what it is - it's a meant space, very mindful and thus very limited. Once seen, it will never surprise you again, which is a shame. Some of the exhibits, though, moved me incredibly. More when I get back.  Festival was getting into swing when we met up back at the hotel, so we wandered the streets, picked up some delicious pinxtos (tapas) and watched fireworks from a bridge.   Tomorrow is 11 hours on a train, and might not live up to today, but it will put us at the other end of Spain, 11 or so miles from Tangiers, where we make landfall on Tuesday.