My first rainy morning in San Sebastian. After two weeks in the Basque Country, I was no stranger to rainfall—but not like this. Today was unlike the brief, torrential downpours I had seen before. It was gentle, hardly making a sound. The air was still, void of the harsh wind that would’ve guided droplets through my window. Needless to say, it was hard to get myself downstairs. It had been for the past few days. With the journey quickly coming to a close, sleep was frequently sacrificed for last-minute bucket list items. A lot of things were checked off—surfing, seeing Paris, learning new languages, just to name a few. Very worth it, but very taxing. 

Biking to class in the rain was acrually a great experience. As we rode along an empty La Concha beach, I couldn’t help but stop and photograph the scenery.

Later on, the group visited Talai Berri, a winery in Zarautz. During the bus ride over, it was clear that a lack of sleep was catching up to many other students as well (one even brought a pillow with them). As we neared the hill-top winery, the views only got better and better, which entertained my sleepy eyes. By this point, the sun had found its way through the still dramatic clouds, illuminating the beautiful crashing waves along the beach. Even after three weeks, the Basque Country never ceases to amaze me with each and every city. Once we arrived, a woman named Onditz was standing outside, ready to welcome us to her world. She first brought us into a room with a large, round window at the back which hinted at the breathtaking views to come. There, she told us about herself and a little about the winery. Onditz is the second generation of Eizagirre’s to work on the vineyard, along with her sister Itziar. It’s a family business, though she says her kids aren’t yet interested in winemaking. It’s certainly a long, artful process, and I was impressed by her knowledge. 

The grapes start growing in the spring, and are ready for harvesting in September. By then, Onditz explains, the grapevine is in a state of low sugar and high acidity. They regularly monitor the acidity with a machine (and through taste), since things like rain can lower sugar and influence the farming window. At the Talai Berri winery, a harvest involves a team of 16 to 18 people. Hand-picking the grapes usually takes about three weeks with seven hour days. Once the grapes are picked, the goal is to bring them to a point of high acidity and high sugar. For white wines like their flagship Txakolina, Onditz and her team follow the standard fermentation process. This happens in a large hallway bounded by large steel cylinders, an area that was quite grand in person. There, they allow a year to age,  and then two to three for consumption. Txakolina, or Txakoli for short, is always sealed with a guarantee of Basque-sourced grapes. Their wine has been increasingly popular in the United States, with exports to California being their most successful.

While I needed a translation to understand most of what Onditz was saying, I could sense her passion. I can tell she is dedicated to and loves what she does. That’s been a common theme throughout San Sebastián and the Basque Country as a whole. Whether it’s bartenders, Spanish teachers, surf instructors, or even classmates, everyone is enjoying what they’re doing. And when you’re standing on a terrace, overlooking the picturesque vineyards and landscape all around you, it’s easy to see why. 

The Basque Country is truly one of the most culturally and geographically special regions in the world, and it really promotes happiness and togetherness. Personally, spending time in Spain has been so incredible. I’ve gotten to know so many cool, genuine people. Not just from our study abroad group—people from around the world. Our Spanish school especially attracts individuals from all walks of life. There’s definitely something to be said about meeting people in a place like San Sebastián. Getting to know others was easier with so much to see and do, even when it wasn’t anything crazy. Without sounding too cliche, a lot of my favorite moments happened during the journey, not at the destination. Waiting for a delayed bus in Biarritz at midnight, laughing on the train back from Paris, and strolling down La Concha beach at four in the morning were some true highlights of these few weeks. Lastly, I don’t want to say it’s a make-or-break factor, but the students on this trip are all wonderful (as is Professor Z). It has been a pleasure to experience this place with them, and I look forward to reuniting back home.