In the past week, I’ve already found a sense of comfort in San Sebastián. The city feels welcoming in a way that makes it hard to imagine leaving. But last weekend, I took advantage of my free time to venture outside the city, and what followed was a mix of challenges, surprises, and unforgettable beauty.

Saturday: Chasing Dragons at Gaztelugatxe

Early Saturday morning, I set out for San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, a place famous for its dramatic coastline and, for fans of Game of Thrones, as a filming location for Dragonstone. My journey wasn’t simple it took three buses and nearly four hours to finally arrive. 

When I reached the trail entrance, though, I was told all hiking reservations were fully booked for the entire month. After traveling so far, the news was infuriating. I quickly tried other checkpoints, stumbling through broken Spanish to smooth-talk my way in and hoping for luck, but each attempt ended in another denial.

Just as I was ready to give up, I returned to the original trail checkpoint. There, by sheer luck or fate, I met Marta, who happened to have an extra ticket because her husband couldn’t make the trek. She kindly offered it to me. In that moment, her generosity and kindness reminded me why I’ve already fallen in love with Spain, the people here are like no other, and their sense of community is so strong. Marta’s genrosity felt like a welcoming gift.

Walking the trail felt surreal. Gaztelugatxe is unlike anything I’ve ever seen: a rugged island rising from the sea, connected to the mainland by a winding stone staircase that climbs dramatically to the chapel at the summit. As I hiked, I felt both exhausted and energized, the kind of exhilaration that comes from being surrounded by nature’s beauty. Standing atop the cliffs, looking out at the vast ocean, I felt grounded and deeply connected to the people around me, even though we spoke different languages and came from all corners of the world. We all came to take in the immense beauty that nature has around us.

The climb back down was steep, but afterwards I rewarded myself with a jamón pintxo sandwich at a local hotel bar just off the trail head. I took a moment to reflect and stare down at the rolling hills before me. Later, on the bus ride back to San Sebastián, I found myself staring out the window as those same hills slipped by, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the chance to experience a place that felt so magical. More than anything, I felt connected to the people around me, to the land, and to something larger than myself. Standing atop that mountain reminded me of how small the world can feel when strangers from all over gather simply to marvel at nature’s beauty. 

Sunday: A Spontaneous Trip to France

After some much-needed rest, Sunday turned into another adventure. A few new friends from the trip, shout out Salma, Sebastian, Chom and I decided spontaneously over brunch to take the train into France. We rushed to the station, making it onto our first train just in time, and within 90 minutes, we arrived in Bayonne.

It was fascinating how a short trip across the border revealed such a different atmosphere. While Bayonne is still part of the Basque Country, its architecture, streets, and style felt distinct. We wandered through charming streets, admired a beautiful chapel with stained glass windows, and browsed small shops. I picked up postcards for my family and friends, hoping to share with them pieces of the journey.

After some time in Bayonne, we hopped on a bus to Biarritz, only 30 minutes away but with a completely different vibe. The city hugs the ocean, with beaches and cliffs that left me captivated. As we walked along the boardwalk, we stumbled upon a local orchestra performing in a courtyard. We sat there, briefly taking in the music and the beauty of the city around us. Later, we found a tunnel that opened up to a breathtaking view of the city and coastline as we watched the sunset over the city. 

As the evening came to a close, we made our way back toward the train station. At first, it seemed like we might be stranded as the google maps told us the next train wouldn’t arrive until the next morning. Panic set in as we debated whether to book an expensive Uber. Just as I was about to confirm the ride, a bell rang, announcing the arrival of a train to Hendaye. We sprinted across the station, scrambled to buy tickets, and managed to catch it just in time. From there, another train took us back to San Sebastián, where we finally arrived exhausted but full of relief and gratitude.

Looking back, the weekend was hectic at times but deeply rewarding. I’m grateful to be in San Sebastián and to have the chance to step into experiences that challenge me, surprise me, and connect me with people and places in unexpected ways. From the cliffs of Gaztelugatxe to the streets of Bayonne and the sunsets in Biarritz, I was reminded that travel isn’t just about seeing new landscapes, it’s about the shared moments too, the kindness of strangers, and the feeling of being part of something larger than yourself.

Long before arriving in San Sebastián, I found myself anticipating one thing above all else: the pintxos! As Marti Buckley explains, a pintxo is a small dish—something you can eat in just two or three bites—traditionally enjoyed while standing at the bar with a drink in hand. They’re an expression of Basque culture, meant to be shared, savored, and enjoyed in good company. Unlike tapas in other parts of Spain, pintxos are usually ordered individually, and each bar takes pride in its own specialties. San Sebastián has earned its reputation as a culinary capital largely because of these little bites and the vibrant social ritual that surrounds them. The tradition is to hop from bar to bar, sampling a drink and a pintxo or two at each stop. It’s less about filling up on food and more about connecting—with friends, family, and the buzzing energy of the city itself. Unlike in the U.S., it’s completely normal to see children in bars here—it feels more like an extension of daily life than something frowned upon. I had been looking forward to experiencing pintxos, and I have to say, everything I’ve tasted so far has exceeded my expectations. Our group went on a pintxo tour led by Professor Z in Old Town, and the first thing that struck me was the architecture—it felt like stepping back in time. First Stop: Bar Borda BerriBar, Borda Berri is known for its take on creative Basque pintxos, with a focus on seasonal, high-quality cuisine. Walking in was overwhelming at first: the bar was crowded, buzzing with energy, and we had to squeeze our way into a little corner. But almost immediately, I felt that rush of immersion—like I was part of something real. What fascinated me most was how orders were handled. Instead of electronic systems or even writing things down, the staff simply yell orders to the kitchen, and when they’re ready, they shout them back out to the customers. Honestly, I don’t know how they keep it all straight—it just sounds like a lot of yelling to me—but somehow, it works, and has worked since 2001. Unlike many pintxo bars where cold dishes line the counter, Borda Berri serves everything made-to-order from its chalkboard menu. The presentation was stunning, with colorful plates that looked like edible works of art. Highlights included:

• Salmorejo: A chilled, creamy orange soup that was vibrant, refreshing, and perfect for summer. I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did, but I would’ve happily had a second bowl.
• Veal cheek: Hands down, the most tender beef I’ve ever had—possibly the best meat of my life—served with a sauce I’ll be dreaming about. I almost dropped my fork in disbelief at how soft it was.
• Three-cheese risotto: Straight from Marti’s book, rich and smoky, easily the best risotto I’ve ever tasted.
• Bacalao (cod) cooked in its own gelatin with parsley sauce—an unusual slimy-yet-fresh texture that somehow worked. I never thought I’d put “slimy” and “delicious” in the same sentence, but here we are.
• Pig’s ear: My first time trying it—surprisingly tender, flavorful, and balanced with apple sauce. Not going to lie, I hesitated before the first bite, but I was glad I pushed myself.

By the end of this stop, my tastebuds felt alive with adventure. As we walked toward our next stop, we were met with a surprise: a Basque band parading through the streets. The music, the drums, the laughter—I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt like the whole city was pulling us into the celebration. We had arrived during Semana Grande (Big Week), a festival full of fireworks, music, tourists, and endless energy. Next stop: Bar Txepetxa. We reached Bar Txepetxa just before its siesta closing. This bar is legendary for its anchovies. If anchovies aren’t your thing, it might seem intimidating—but if you’re open to adventure, this is the place to be. For years, the family never wrote down their secret marinade recipe—the mother and son were the only ones who knew it by heart. After narrowly avoiding a car accident, they realized how easily it could be lost. From then on, they wrote it down, and to this day, they still prepare it fresh each morning. The toppings were surprising—one of my favorites was anchovies with blueberries. I never would’ve paired the two, but it worked beautifully. Growing up Khmer, I’ve always appreciated bold flavors, and in that moment, I felt grateful that my palate was open enough to embrace something so unexpected. Our next stop was Casa Gandarias, where we tried octopus and sea urchin. For many of us, it was our first time trying sea urchin—and it definitely won’t be my last. I expected it to be slimy (I was bracing myself), but instead, it was creamy and paired perfectly with a hollandaise-like sauce. Another fear conquered! Of course, no food tour in San Sebastián would be complete without trying the famous Basque cheesecake. We ended the day at Bar La Viña, the birthplace of this dessert. Creamy, rich, and slightly caramelized—it was the perfect finale. Even coming from a culture with such a diverse range of flavors, I can honestly say my palate has expanded tremendously here. I’ve tasted some of the best food of my life, not just because of the ingredients or the techniques, but because of the pride the Basque people take in their craft. Here, food isn’t just about eating—it’s about sharing joy, culture, and community.

p.s. pro tip: the messier the bar floor, the better the food. If you know, you know!