This walk brought back memories when Laird Evans and I ended our 2021 Portuguese Camino sojourn in Bilbao.
The boulevard that I walked out of Bilbao was the same one we followed to return our rental car. We were surprised that our return point was not the railroad station but the underground parking garage of a large shopping mall in the middle of the modern section of Bilbao. We had to do some frantic hunting to get our car back in time.
What was new was climbing two major hills that form the western side of the valley that contains the river that runs from the Bay of Biscay 15 miles inland to Bilbao. Urban development was originally founded along the river and expanded uphill from there. Almost all streets, roads, and paths are uphill and their corresponding downhill in Basque land.
A bit further along, I took a final look back at Bilbao. The tall building in the background is across a plaza from the Guggenheim Museum. Some new skyscrapers are going up in central Bilbao. But the skyline is relatively low and flat with most residential apartment buildings no higher than six stories. As you can tell, the donkeys were not impressed. I did find one friendly fan nearby. Or perhaps another — maybe Banksy left some graffiti for me. (Liberal reference to Banksy, my apologies.)
I arrived in Portugalete at 3:30 PM. Laird and I were here in 2021 after taking a 25 minute subway ride from Old Town. We took a trip actoss the river via the Viscaya Bridge inaugurated in 1893. The bridge was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2006. I have never seen another like it in the world. Truly unique. We walked the corniche, ate lunch, and returned to Bilbao by subway.
This time I checked into the Gran Hotel Puente Colgante. Manuel Calvo y Aguirre, a wealthy Cuban, willed his mansion to become a hotel that has hosted royalty, and the well heeled. I was given a third floor, the highest, room with a river view courtesy of Fernando, the front desk manager. Thank you Fernando for enhancing my “all over again” experience (Yogi Berra).
Before dinner, I walked to the lighthouse on the westside of the estuary. Laird and I had walked the eastside. The fisherman were casting their lines; no caught fish were seen though. Scores of people of all ages were out strolling — the paseo. You don’t see that back home. Architectural styles of bygone eras lined the corniche. My hotel was no exception.
Dinner time had arrived — 8:00 PM, the standard starting time. I chose the pork and beans (not Campbell’s), the squid in its own ink (I must admit that I like it grilled better), and ice cream, yes no flan, that was more like a semifreddo. My wine glass was filled twice with a Basque dry white wine. More was offered but I refused because I needed to be read for tomorrow’s walk. I did debate that question (more, señor?) in my head for several minutes. The meal was an elegant and superb rendition of Basque cuisine. Camino Ways, my tour organizer, had chosen a winner.
I concluded the evening with another walk by the bridge and adjacent park. Deja Vu All Over Again? Not quite.
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