Spain: The Guggenheim in Bilbao

by - Friday, September 13, 2019

After our Kumbaya moment is completed in front of the arena in Pamplona, we head for the car. People are still sleeping in the park, the festivities haven't started for them yet. These people are dead to the world - the Running of the Bulls could be rerouted through the park, and it wouldn't change a thing. A hangover is a hangover is a hangover.

We walk along the ramparts, the crowd thins out notably, and it appears we are the only family in this town ready to bolt. At the parking lot, more drunks in their cars. Not judging here, really. That used to be me a few decades ago. Rejoice, oh young man (and woman) in thy youth. Their agenda is quite different from ours. What's not in dispute is that a prime parking space is open the moment we back out of it with our Opel. Let's do Bilbao.

The streets are so pristine, France's almost look bombed out by comparison. That said, they also have a price. Luckily that price is still in Euros. I remember the 80's and traveling through Europe with marks, francs, and pesetas. I don't miss that one bit. That said, the tolls do add up, and I again appreciate the toll-free German autobahns a little more. We stop somewhere around Iruraiz for a potty stop plus a drink of water. I take the opportunity to wiggle out of my clothes. In Bilbao, I can be Worldchump again, and there will be no catcalls over my all-white outfit. 

Near Bilbao, we almost get lost when Liebi fails to keep up with the GPS. No harm, no foul. In the end, the GPS doesn't fail us. Another thing I don't miss: asking for directions. We are exactly where we are supposed to be in Bilbao, across the river. I see there's an issue with the parking in that it's not free, either, at least not when the Sunday is over and the workweek starts.

We can't check into the hostel yet, so we head back across the river to the Guggenheim. We walk along the river, it's a gorgeous day, and it's hard to overlook the Guggenheim. The beautiful thing about the Guggenheim is that the building itself is art itself. There are sculptures outside, plus artists and musicians trying to make a Euro or two outside of it. Inside the Guggenheim, there are a few Warhols, a few Kandinskys some modern visual and audio exhibits (Jenny Holzer!), plus some local artists. 

Then there's 'The Matter of Time' exhibit by Richard Serra, a labyrinthine exhibition that makes me dizzy walking around its sculptures, although the kids get a kick out of it. Let's just say the Guggenheim is a winner and leave it at that. With the Guggenheim in Bilbao, we have now seen every Guggenheim in the world, another feather in our cap. We celebrate the day later over a good dinner and some good Spanish red wine.

Hard to beat a day like that. Running with the bulls in the morning, attending the Hirshhorn in the afternoon, Spanish red wine in the evening. 

The next day, I realize I have received a parking ticket. 24 hours of parking cost 12 Euros, which I have not paid, at least not in a timely manner. The parking ticket itself is for 16 Euros! The fine is four Euros, would you believe it? I love Bilbao and the Basque country even more now. Nothing like receiving a mercy ticket.

Bilbao and the Basque country: two thumbs up, it's Europe in all of its glory. What a way to kick off the summer vacation.

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