Bilbao for Easter

I had a fantastic Easter break. A few days out from the school holidays I felt like I was going insane and if I had to tell another kid to sit down and shut up (not that I actually do that- it's not in my job description- I just stand there looking at the ceiling patiently until the class quietens down) I would pull out my hatchet and splice someone's head open. Plus there was a bit of tension in the flat, with some certain person not liking the way other certain people were doing things. (Photo: pintxos in Bilbao)

On the Wednesday when school finished up, JC also went home for the holidays so I had the flat to myself and I ran around screaming with glee.

Some of my friends were going to a refugio in the mountains, which I was going to go to as well with them but there was a pretty cheap deal in Bilbao for 2 nights and a Murakami and a Cai exhibition at the Guggenheim so Beza and I went. Just as well- it was Andres's birthday on the Saturday so when we called to say happy birthday, he told us it was raining and about to snow. Plus there's no running water and no toilet.

Ness and Cyrille were coming to Spain on the weekend and I totally forgot Ness had told me she was going to Bilbao before visiting me in Logroño so when we arranged to meet, it turned out we'd both be in Bilbao. So we met up on the Saturday night, had some pinchos and travelled back to Logroño together on the Sunday. Stopped over in Haro for lunch, waited an hour and a half at a restaurant, till about 4 pm for lunch and I got incredibly cranky. I started eating the toothpicks while waiting, I was so hungry. But really, if the waiter says there's a 20 minute wait and you end up waiting an hour and a half I think you have a right to be pissed off. Still, the food was great. (Photo: On the way home from Bilbao, we took a detour to a beach)

Ness and Cyrille left on Monday and on Tuesday, Beza and I went to Zaragoza with Rubén because our flight to Brussels left mid-morning on Wednesday and he'd kindly offered to let us stay.

When Rubén told us his flat was big and his flatmates friendly but that it smelt of old shoes or someone anti-anti-deodorant, it wasn't an exaggeration. His flatmates are really nice but it did smell a bit of... something. But very cool guys. We paid a visit to El Pilar, one of the most famous/important cathedrals in Spain and I saw my first confession box ever with a real live priest inside.

The man from Brussels

I'm going to buy bread from a man from Brussels, who will be six foot four and full of muscle. When I ask him if he speaks my language, he'll just smile and give me a vegemite sandwich.

No, but really. I'm going to Belgium for semana santa, yeah! Belgian waffles and Belgian chocolate, here I come.

Speaking of Belgium, there's a cerveceria just down the road from me that had a huge Hoegaarden sign lit up outside, probably being the only cerverceria in Logroño that serves it on tap. Anyway, last week when I walked past, I noticed they'd taken down the Hoegaarden and put up a Foster's sign.

Everyone who talks to me about Foster's, I tell them it's repulsive, which is why we export it and never drink it ourselves. But actually, had one and it's not that bad. I just think it's such a shame our export beer is so average.