Venga, hasta luego

So. This is it. By the time I get around to posting this, I'll probably be back in New York. I've done a pretty good job of not thinking about going back, so I'm not moping around all pouty or anything. (It's not like New York is a bad place to be, and I do miss my friends. But the thought of rejoining the real world is not appealing.) In order to not think about going back, though, I think I've managed to spend most of today not thinking about anything: I have nothing to say. Talk about going out without a bang...

...

Ok, here goes. I'm having my last dinner at the kind of restaurant that food people get excited about. This place has a different tasting menu every day and it's all allegedly made only from things bought this morning at the market across the river. Because it's Bilbao, it's a fairly good deal for a fancy dinner; it would be a really good deal if the US dollar were worth anything. (Although no one here has a job, so I know I shouldn't whine too much.) The food is good and fresh and interesting and all that; halfway through the tasting menu I've really liked all but one plate, which was too fishy. (But I'm super picky about fishiness.) I'll probably finish the bottle of vinho verde (I already forget how they say it in Spanish -- vino verdejo, I think) that I ordered because bottles are the only option here and because seafood plus red wine makes my mouth taste like a battery -- partly because I'm paying for it, but mostly because months of drinking east European beer 500ml at a time has noticeably upped my alcohol tolerance. That will right itself once I get back to some kind of a normal life. Anyway, what I really like about this restaurant, beyond anything in particular that I've eaten, is that it's sort of a nice little summary (microcosm is I guess what I mean to say here, but it sounds pretentious) of everything I like about Bilbao. The Basque country in general is always a fiesta and the people are hot and sidra and berets and blah blah blah. (Spanish people sound cute and hilarious when they say blah blah blah.) Bilbao in particular is arty and it has great food and some nice architecture and big hills slash little mountains in the distance. But it's also industrial and, as much as I've been mocking my roommate for freaking out about the neighborhood where my Spanish class is, there is actual grit here. So anyway, the restaurant is right on the river and lights shine on the water and it's very pretty. But it's also in a pretty grungy neighborhood that smells of urine and hash and is covered in Basque nationalist graffiti and clothes hanging out to dry. On the walkway right next to the river are some bags of trash that unleashed dogs sometimes stop to pee on. And the building itself has old exposed stone walls and some beams and pillars running through it, which they neither accentuate nor try to cover up. It's basically a lot of good, but with enough crap around to keep things interesting and make you appreciate the good even more. And, on that note, I'm going to take my head full of vinho verde and wander home and bask in a few more Basque hours.

Thanks for reading. :)