Basquing In It All

So. We finish up here in San Sebastian along the north coast of Spain. We have never been here before although we did find ourselves in Biarritz 33 years ago just up the coast and over the French border. The two places, sometimes home to the glitterati over the decades, are like bookends -- jeweled, exquisite bookends. Two towns that enjoy a magnificent shoreline and just scream picture postcard. The curve of the wide sandy beach here is ringed by a broad promenade ideal for strolling and people watching, perhaps with a gelato in hand. The luminous blue of the cove is dotted with white boats; throng of people do their beach thing. It is serene, slow-paced, and for us, a stark contrast from the immense energy, speed, crowds, and cacophony of Barcelona which we just left. Here in San Sebastian is a place where you stroll the old city that is not unlike the narrow alleys of so many European cities, and enjoy the shopping, the ubiquitous dog walkers, and the young children who provide a wonderful and stunning contrast to the ancient steps they play on.

And, the tapas! We had read that San Sebastian is a rising star in the culinary world, but the staple here is tapas -- those fabulous small bites that show off the creativity and culinary history of this region. Tonight, we spent an evening in one such place -- Bar Aralar Tatetxea in the old city just up the way from the beach promenade. It has the feeling of an Irish pub in a way -- friendly, crowded, noisy, but lighter and with more color. The ritual here is to work your way through the crowd, find a table (or not), and ask for a plate. The tapas are arranged in platters on the bar like some sort of red, brown, green and yellow jewelry display. You inch your way along pulling on to your plate whichever morsels you care to sample, order your drinks, and then pay before retreating to your table.

And, there the fun begins. Maybe it’s stuffed squid in a spicy garlic sauce, or octopus in oil and paprika. Maybe you would like a ball of deep fried mashed potatoes and egg, or cured ham, goat cheese and a plump sundried tomato all atop a baguette slice. Or, as we had tonight, marinated artichoke wrapped in a smoky ham and topped with a shrimp. As the saying goes, it’s all good.

Then there is Victor Omar Torres. The world is full of street artists, some great, some not. Tonight we were wildly entertained by Mr. Torres whose gift is to paint scenes - local and imagined -- on pieces of tile. The magic is that this guy does it all without a brush; his fingers and a sharp knife are his only tools. His fingers moving at warp speed, Victor spreads his paint with such assurance, such precision, and so flawlessly, it suggests he has done this thousands of times. He manages to create nuances in shades and texture that are so mind boggling you find yourself either staring agape or giggling. To create the finest lines, as with a tiny boat mast, he merely uses his fingernail to sweep color upwards to create the mast’s illusion. By rolling his thumb, he creates depth of color that make me wonder whether a paint brush could ever achieve the same result. He flicks his sharp knife to remove color leaving behind the roll of a wave or a small building on the shore. And, it’s all done in literally the span of two or three minutes. I’m telling you, it’s brilliant and it’s magical.

Lastly, there is the sunset. Sunsets make almost every scene more beautiful, but to fold in the grandeur of a sunset into a scene that is already awash in beauty, is almost unfair. The sun sets late here this time of year. Around 10 p.m. As the sun sets around the town’s surrounding hills, the sky turns an electric turquoise and pink with thin strands of rose colored clouds running through it all. The Atlantic waters take on the same coloration especially at the water’s edge where the reflected pink is as stunning as the sky’s. And, the many boats sitting calmly in the cove become almost blackened silhouettes, a sharp counterpoint to the waters they sit in.

Not a bad way to tie things up.