A quick border hop and I was back in France ... somewhere where I could make a reasonable hash of the language at least! My final night in San Sebastian was, as maybe figured, a huge one, and there were a distinct number of other greenish looking souls on the 8am bus the next morning. Fortunately, we were in Bordeaux only a few hours later and a catch-up sleep awaited. After weeks of snacky tapas eating I'd decided that a proper sit-down meal was in order - bouncy Aussie lass Jacqui agreed so we proceeded to gorge ourselves on a shoulder of lamb, with roast potatoes, green beans and stuffed tomatoes ... slathered in copious amounts of gravy. Oh, and dessert and wine too. And worth every euro cent it was too, I tell you. The next day was the wine tour - an equal blend of octagenarian tourists and wine-hungry backpackers - through the region to the west of the city. The fruits of two picturesque vineyards awaited our greedy consumption: both family-run concerns and both staffed by interesting, friendly French folk (it's true, they were nice!). The inclement weather finally broke that afternoon ... enough for the sun to do it's intoxication enhancing schtick, and for us to roll back to the hotel ready for more napping and another travel day ahead.
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Sometimes holiday stops do not go exactly according to plan. Unfortunately, San Sebastian was one of these. What was to be the second great opportunity to top up the old tan quickly descended into a morass of grey clouds and wet drops. Okay, so that's the bad side. The good side was that this little border resort town has more bars that you can shake a diseased liver at. It also helped having, arguably, the best hostelier in Europe at your disposal: a Basque pocket rocket by the name of Asciar. Myself and the other residents of "Lolo Urban House" (note that down for future vacation reference kids) were treated to the most divine tapas in Spain (proper gourmet stuff) followed by many evenings of imbibing and carousing, and a German beer festival thrown into the bargain (okay, so it was Spain but if you closed your eyes and pretended ...). A fine time was definitely had by all - and the one afternoon of semi-sunshine allowed a good view of the bay, the heads and an enormous sand-sculpted Jesus ensemble that some enterprising soul had whipped up on the beach. So, adios España ... you folks certainly know the right way to show a travelling lad a good time.
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