Being in the Basque country means doing without some of the new-fangled inventions of the 21st century such as satellite TV and broadband internet connection.
The festival is said to originate from the 1830s custom of locals using buckets and hardware from the water pump to mock the soldiers.
Zorionak! That’s Basque for Merry Christmas.
Chewy Duck, the Bobby Sands of Chabola
I never asked to have ducks.
Still the sun is shining, the sky is blue, I don’t pay taxes and I don’t
give a hoot!
I walked out into the street and I’m not sure if I was blinking at the early evening sunshine or the pricking, burning in my eyes.
I don’t know what happened next but I woke up in my tent at 6am feeling as right as rain.
‘Chabola?’ I hear you say, ‘Surely you mean Chombola?’
I have received numerous complaints and rude comments about my address. Now look here, it’s not my fault if I don’t have a simple postal address.
I’ve been tending my vine.
“Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to my house and stole a leg of beef…”
Tears in my eyes
Cobweb Cottage, Casa Cat Shit call it what you will, it’s my home for the next six months.
It is about 30 miles south from San Sebastian, the same to the north of Pamplona and only 40 miles west of Biarritz.
I have been offered a house way outside the wine region, mid way between Bilbao and San Sebastian but isolated in the middle of the country, surrounded by apple orchards and mountain pasture.
Must do more research. Into the consumption of wine, that is.
A perfect end to a perfect meal with my perfect hosts.
My race through France heading for Spain and a new life seems to have been brought up short.
Leo has promised me wobbly liver.
I sat on a low wall, gazing at the night sky feeling very content.
Isn’t it amazing how things seem so much clearer after a couple of glasses of wine?
I am going to make a serious attempt to head south today.
Fat and happy.
Seems like the old charm is still working.
An Alcohol Free Day
It’s people I don’t like I’m beginning to realise.
Lunch was a long, boozy afternoon which ended with the Persian Rug flat out on the floor.
Best two hundred quid I never spent.