September 8th, 2017
Today is the first school excursion to Getxo and Plentzia. Both are beach towns less than a half hour’s drive from Bilbao. So with a bathing suit and my GVSU flag in a beach bag, off I go to meet everyone else at Deusto.
First, Plentzia. Small and quaint, it’s everything one would expect from a European coastal city. The first thing we see after stepping off the bus is la ría, the same estuary that runs through Bilbao with one major difference: there’s hardly any water! Most of the boats—and there are dozens—are beached, waiting for high tide to come in six hours. As we walk, the water level rises enough that some kayakers appear but it isn’t until after lunch that people begin to enjoy the sunny Friday afternoon by the shore.
And what a lunch it is! A restaurant called The Yacht Club (and aptly in the shape of a yacht) serves us three courses of authentic cuisine. I fulfill a personal wish of mine by having paella con carne as my first course but play it safe by having grilled chicken instead of anchovies as my second. The dessert, something akin to whipped cream cheese with fruit, is some of the best I’ve had since my first tiramisu in Italy.
Plentzia is full of dogs, and I’m in love. Unlike in the U.S., most of these dogs aren’t on leashes. They are trained to happily walk next to their owners without a fuss. If they stray off course, either a sharp whistle or stern word brings them back. One particularly adventurous dog walks with our group for a few minutes before turning around to return without having to be prompted.
We are going to end our day at the beach in Getxo, but there’s a detour to the hanging bridge. Having done a little research into the area prior I have some idea as far as what to expect, but this bridge is more magnificent than Google gave it credit for.
Spanning the river, it transports cars and people both but not like a traditional bridge. It carries them across the river on a hanging platform, the travel taking less than ten minutes. And, for the adrenaline-addicts, one can walk across the top of the bridge for eight euros.
It’s time to go to the beach. We’re given a small tour through the historic part of Getxo before being given the option to catch a ride back to Bilbao on the bus or find our own way via the public transportation. The beach is too inviting to deny, so most of the group stays to enjoy the sun (a rare commodity in the area, I’m beginning to realize) and the bars.
Off a nearby stone pier, locals jump off into the water below. It’s half tide, so the water sits nearly ten feet below the ledge. Some friends take the leap, but I take the cheater’s way in order to enjoy; there’s a staircase leading to the salty ocean water.
It’s a quick walk, or swim, to the actual beach. The whitecaps, much larger than those I grew up with, come and go. The water is refreshingly cool, and even the burn of the salt lessens after a while. After walking all day, floating in the turquoise water is paradise.
Disclaimer: I still prefer Michigan beaches. Call it a bias, but fresh water beaches are much better to swim in. It’s difficult to say, but Grand Haven > Getxo.
As high tide creeps closer, the changing weather causes the yellow flag to turn to red and we head back into town in search of dinner. We sample different pintxos, the food of choice in the Basque country.
Pintxos is Basque for tapas, more or less, which in turn is Spanish for a small plate of food. Usually, a group will order multiple pintxos and share them. It’s the best way to try new foods without committing to a large amount. A few days later, I’m able to try an octopus-and-shrimp pintxos and let my friends have the rest when the octopus proves to be too chewy for me.
Truth be told, I’m glad I chose Bilbao over Getxo when given the choice where to be housed. City life is more familiar to me, and it’s not as overwhelming as Rome was. Getxo, while beautiful, is too small to enjoy for more than a day here and there. Though, since it’s only a twenty minute metro ride away, I’m certain this isn’t my last day in Getxo.
