Hello everyone. Steve here. Due to unfortunate technical difficulties, I am writing to you from the account of the magnificent Leighton Moylan, who so graciously allowed me to use his capabilities. So here we go.
Sand on the beach. Not in the house.
Hello to all those people who have so eagerly arrived to this blogpost. Sit down and strap yourself in, this one’s gonna be good. Upon reading this, the group and I will have had three days left and that statement, to me, is like an ogre( because ogres have layers! and that they are ). Terrifying to believe my extravagant time in san seb is coming to a close, but it is also making me reflect other thoughts dwelling at the bottom of my subconscience. Now before I dig deeper into that ( very small) iceberg, I would like to address adoring fans and paparazzi about my wonderful Monday in Donostia. Granted waking up Monday morning I had a case of the Mondays that I was having a lot of trouble shaking. My grammar teacher, Laura, whom I adored (can’t say the feeling was mutual ) had switched to a new class. Now my friend Leighton still howled his usual howl of a laugh and I still ate a delicious nectarine that my host abuela (maritxa, i.e new found love of my life) had hurled towards my head with a smile as she does every morning, but things just felt different without Laura. But alas good things come to an end and I must continue with my day. Now myself and the Basque Street Boys( myself, Arick Forsyth, and Lighton Moylan) along with our friend Catherine went into a bar to get pintxo de chorizo and a caña grifa con limón. It was a delight in both taste and company.
A lot of the bars here have old wooden bar tops, wooden chairs, and a somewhat rustic theme, but in addition they all seem to have vh1 from America playing music videos from 2005. Not even kidding, I have my lunch to the tune of “Gold Digger” and “1,2 Step” on a few separate occasions. So after that I returned home, maritxa had been watching the Spanish equivalent of Survivor (fun fact: on their “Survivor” the people are in the wilderness for 80 days; talk about hardcore) and after she had explained the intricacies to why sand in the house is the equivalent to a stray dog sneaking into your house and sleeping on the floor. (Yup, that’s honestly how she explained it). So after that wonderful lesson I sat down for a nice long siesta before I would meet my friends at the beach. During my siesta I relaxed in my room and I honestly thought about the trip and what I’ve done and I thought a lot about home. Life is drastically different here. There are wonderful views, excellent weather, and a city that flows like a leaf in the wind. Never meeting resistance but finding a way around and through complications. San Sebastian quite frankly is paradise. Though that is why I cannot stay (I’ll explain at the end).
After my siesta I suited up and curtailed my way over to Ziriolla, the surfing beach. My friends and I took to the water and there must have been a swell because the waves were hitting at least 8 feet tall. This set the stage for the greatest beach trip of the 3 weeks. All of us in the water, body surfing ,waves crashing ,high fives clashing, and outrageous fun. Afterwards all of us went to our separate dinners.( I had torilla).
At around 10:00 we all left our houses and headed to La Concha for the second part of the beach. We had a large portion of the group with us and along with a midnight swim we all sat on the sand and talked and laughed (I laughed for a collective 45 minutes at least) and related and came together the way friends who’ve known each other for 25 years come together. That doesn’t just happen. This experience has giving me not only an immense amount of perspective on views on the other side of the globe, but also a new group of people who I have come rapidly attached to in a way I didn’t think possible.
The final part of the night was when we had “found” some champagne and shared it on the beach. Toasting to an amazing trip, I stepped back and thought once again that I can’t stay here. San Sebastian is not a place but an experience. An experience that will grab hold of you and change you forever. This trip has taught me about so much, but it has also taught me how amazing it is to travel. I had never traveled before this and I don’t want to live here. I feel that being here longer would only dilute the sensation of awe in my eyes . But I want to return. Over and over and over again each time trying more, seeing more, and doing more. Unfortunately, the next time I return I won’t have my trusty crew, which is unfortunate, yet once again allows me to create new bonds and friends like the ones I have made. (raise your hand if you want a corny ending…. too bad!) Donostia is famous for its boats and fishing. And in the Bay of Biscay there are hundreds of ships, but I think the greatest and most impressive ships were the friendships being made in the sand on the shore that night. So I say Salud to Donostia and to Massachusetts, be home soon.
