February 14, 2010: So, the scheduled “Excursion of Navarra” with the school was cancelled due to inclement weather, but I and my friends did not want to sit around Pamplona sulking about icy rain and snow for a whole weekend. So, we packed up and went to Bilbao on Saturday! It was a really spontaneous trip. My roommate Fernanda and I, along with three of our other friends, Jane, Hanna, and Pilar, hopped on a bus with no itinerary except that we wanted to see the Guggenheim. We arrived about three in the afternoon and decided to search out a hostel. The first one we found was a little more expensive than we’d have liked, so we walked halfway across the 6th largest city in Spain, backpacks heavier by the minute, maps in our hands.
We found the second hostel and it looked like a huge slumber party. Everyone there was around our age, there was music playing, coffee brewing, and Ikea-like furniture that made me feel like I was in a dorm. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any room because Saturday was Bilbao’s CARNIVAL! That’s right, we accidentally stumbled upon a huge celebration. This was really cool, except that we were told we might have a difficult time getting a place to stay. They were really nice, though, and let us use their computers and phones until we found a place with room. It was right in the middle of the Casco Viejo where all the fun was to be had later. “Perfect!” we thought.
So, we finally got there, our hopes of an afternoon trip to the museum dashed, because it was already about 6 by this time. We walked up three flights of the scariest, most uneven steps I’ve ever seen and were greeted by a chain-smoking “concierge.” Our room consisted of three small beds, not enough for the five of us, but we had to make-do because our backs were hurting and we really didn’t have that many other options. We just sat down on the checkered bedspread with striped and flowered pillowcases and laughed at the lime green and orange paint that clashed with the chandelier hanging overhead. We tried to look out the window, only to find it duck-taped shut.
After a coffee-break and small dinner, we walked downtown to where the parade was happening. Everyone in the city was wearing costumes, except for us! There were entire families of ladybugs and pirates and gypsies and sharks. We proudly wore our jackets and scarves, and one guy said as he passed me that I was Little Red Riding Hood. Why? Because my jacket is red, of course!
Later that night, we went outside to see what all the commotion was about. Little did we know that our hostel was right above the street full of bars that was where everyone was going to party for the entire night. They had music playing and people were just dancing in the streets (even though it was freezing and raining!) So, we danced with them! We were singing along to “Dancing Queen” with military men, mermaids, housewives, Mr. Incredible, a giant chicken, and some witches, among other costumes. The only thing was, at about 1, we were ready to go to bed. We went to our room, and we could hear them blowing whistles and singing the Spanish National Anthem down below. It was a miracle that I slept at all!
For Valentine’s Day, we got up early and visited the Guggenheim Museum, to take our minds off the fact that whatever boy we might love back home is very far away. It was a good distraction, though. The architecture of the museum, itself, is amazing. We spent the whole morning and part of the afternoon at the museum. Then we hopped a bus back to Pamplona, our weekend a certain success.
