Exploring the Basque Country
Tertulia, vol. 66
Hola. This is Barbara, your guide to the latest cultural news from the Spanish-speaking world. This week, I’d like to take you to the Basque Country, where I vacationed this past summer. So, it’s not only «hola» today but also «kaixo» - «hello» in Euskera, the Basque language.
Originally, we had planned to hike a portion of the Camino del Norte, from the French border to Bilbao. However, my husband tore the muscle fibres of his left calf while playing badminton a couple of weeks before our planned departure. As a result, we had to reschedule our hiking plans and instead focused our trip on Donostia, Olite/Navarra, and Bilbao. All the places we visited offered unique perspectives on the cultural and natural richness of the area. We travelled by bus and train, which worked well almost everywhere.
Donostia: More than a location for a film festival
Donostia (San Sebastián in Spanish, but as we learnt, locals call it Donostia or Donosti) is well-known for its scenic bay, La Concha, and reputation as a culinary hub.
Walking through town, we noticed the deep connection between food and local life. Bars prominently displayed rows of pintxos, small dishes - like tapas, but served on bread or with a cocktail stick so you can eat it in a couple of bites - that are a hallmark of Basque cuisine. However, as vegetarians, we found the pintxos culture challenging. Many options heavily featured meat and fish, and - while beautifully prepared - they rarely offered suitable choices for plant-based diets. After some searching, though, we discovered restaurants like «Mapa Verde», a small vegan spot with a creative menu, proving that there are indeed places where dietary preferences can be accommodated. In August, Donostia is bustling with tourists, so I highly recommend booking restaurant tables well in advance.
We also got to know Txakoli, a local young wine (also slightly sparkling), which I can highly recommend. I’m sure that in a few years, it will be a commercial success abroad. This is exactly what happened to Albariño. When I first tasted this wine in Galicia, nobody outside Spain knew about it. Now, it is easily available in Switzerland, too, though the fresh, young wines I prefer are harder to find, as Swiss consumers seem to favour heavier, more alcoholic Albariños.
By the way, this is a hint for those of you who prefer beer. A small beer, usually called caña in Spanish, is a zurito in San Sebastian. A caña can be much bigger, which is probably not the best idea if you have a drink with each pintxo that you eat.
Beyond the food and drinks, the city’s coastal setting is a defining feature. Sculptures like Eduardo Chillida’s Peine del Viento (the wind’s haircomb) at the water’s edge symbolise a strong connection between art and the landscape. We can also recommend the Aiete Cultural Centre, which hosted a Hemingway exhibition while we were visiting. It’s a very nice place to spend the day reading and exploring the park in which it is located.
We are pretty sure we will come back to Donostia for the film festival one day. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to attend it so far because it is always scheduled at the beginning of the semester, which I cannot miss.
Olite: A glimpse into History
Heading inland, Olite (Erriberri in Euskera) felt like stepping into a different time. Olite is 40 km South of Pamplona. This was where we deviated from our original plan to follow the Camino, and we don’t regret it. Olite’s Gothic Royal Palace, with tall towers and stone courtyards, dominates the town’s skyline. This medieval setting reflects the importance of history and heritage in the region. The castle-palace was one of the seats of the Court of the Kingdom of Navarre from the reign of Charles III until its conquest by Castile in 1512. Just between the local Parador and the Palace of the Kings of Navarre, you will find a beautiful church, la Iglesia de Santa MarÃa la Real. Its retablo, finished in 1528, is wonderful.
The slower pace of life in Olite was refreshing. We also loved the fresh breeze, which explains the abundance of wind power plants in the area. It was never as hot as it is in the central parts of Spain. Streets lined with small terraces and shops, mostly local bodegas, invited unhurried exploration. While vegetarian options were sparse, the local markets and simpler dining establishments allowed us to adapt, emphasising fresh vegetables and local cheeses. A visit to a nearby bodega added depth to our experience, offering insights into traditional winemaking practices that continue to shape the region’s identity and the importance of having a quickly adapting marketing strategy.
In Olite, we experienced the only restraints of public transportation. We would have loved to visit Ujué because of its unique location in the mountains, but we couldn’t get there on the day planned because it was a regional holiday and there was no bus connection. The only taxi service in the city was also busy shuttling people to and from the festival in nearby Tafalla. We booked a bus from Olite to Bilbao with a change in Pamplona, only to learn at the Pamplona station that our bus to Bilbao wouldn't be running after all. Go figure, the day was considered a holiday in Navarre but not in the Basque Country itself, and the timetables of both areas had not been synchronised. The people at the ticket counter were friendly and patient and gave us a new ticket, so we had time for another coffee in Pamplona.
Bilbao: Puppy wants to grow
Bilbao is a city transforming. Its industrial past is visible in the architecture and the layout of older neighbourhoods, but modern landmarks like the Guggenheim Museum point to its evolution into a cultural centre.
The Guggenheim, with its bold design and cultural impact, has become a symbol of Bilbao’s reinvention. While the museum’s success is undeniable, plans to expand the Guggenheim into the Urdaibai Biosphere Reserve, a protected rural area, raise important questions. The reserve is an ecological treasure, home to diverse wildlife and a fragile ecosystem. Introducing a large-scale cultural institution into this space risks disrupting its delicate balance, potentially prioritising economic and cultural ambitions over environmental preservation.
I oppose this expansion project, not because I disregard the arts, but because it highlights a broader tension between progress and sustainability. The Basque Country's charm lies in its ability to seamlessly integrate tradition, nature, and modernity without compromising its core values. In such a sensitive location, a project of this magnitude could disrupt that delicate balance. Preserving this delicate equilibrium will be crucial as the region continues to evolve.
The surroundings of Bilbao are also well worth a visit: We went to the beaches at Getxo and also undertook a marvellous tour to the islet of San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, where part of Games of Thrones was filmed, and to the historic town of Gernika. We wanted to go to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe on our own, but you have to get an admission ticket in advance, which is free of charge. However, in the summertime, it is difficult to get one on short notice, which is why we went on an organised tour. It was expensive but also very informative.
The ambivalence of nationalism
Throughout the journey, one stereotypical view was proven: the Basque Country values its distinct identity. Euskera is omnipresent—in signage, spoken conversations, and cultural festivals. The closer you get to the French border at Hondarribia and the Pyrenees, it is probably most prominent. Local traditions, from «herri kirolak» (Basque rural sports) to artisan markets, reflect a strong sense of continuity and pride. Compared to Hondarribia, the use of Basque was much less noticeable to us in Olite, even though this region of Navarre is officially bilingual, with all public signage presented in both Basque and Spanish. We were happy to see that militant and violent nationalism is no longer a threat to the people, but many wounds remain open.
In the Basque Country, where the struggle for self-determination has deep historical roots, I noticed strong public support for the Palestinian cause in Gaza - often in open conflict to the quest of the Jewish people to have a country they can call their home. Many houses flew Palestinian flags like they were flying Basque flags, just as they would do to defy flying the Spanish flag. Yet this parallel between two peoples seeking autonomy raises an important question: While supporting Palestinian rights, shouldn’t we also acknowledge the Jewish people's historic quest for security and self-determination? In my opinion, the situation calls for understanding both perspectives rather than taking an either-or position. Unfortunately, as you can see from the photo below, the positions we encountered were militantly one-sided, i.e. anti-zionist.
In Bilbao, the presence of a large Latin American immigrant community, as well as waves of migration from other parts of Spain due to the city's industrial history takes a different direction than in the local areas: In Bilbao, Euskera seems to be more of an invitation to enrich one's own cultural experience than a nationalistic obligation. In a city so rich with cultural exchange, how might embracing Euskera as an immigrant open new doors of understanding and connection?
We were lucky to meet Ishaq Muhammad from Pakistan one evening, who had come to Spain as a former sherpa cook of famous mountaineer Alex Txikon. He is now the cook and proud owner of the restaurant Garibolo. He not only serves delicious vegetarian and vegan menus in his restaurant but has learned to speak both Castillian and Basque. Admirable!
While our initial visit did not allow too much time for the beaches, that gives us ample reason to plan a return trip to further explore the Basque Country's coastlines. Furthermore, we cannot leave the Camino del Norte unwalked.
Let me know what your experiences were in the Basque country. What would you recommend?
Thank you for your attention. Eskerrik asko zure arretagatik.