At about 8:30 Pat, Ann and I set off. Having accidentally gone north on the peage we did a U-turn at Bayonne and made our way across the Spanish border via the freeway.
We turned south at San Sebastian as we figured getting off the freeways might help us see something more interesting. We were venturing far of the tourist routes. The autobia took us through the lush, cloud covered Pyrenees. The drops were precipitous. The towns no longer the quaint quiet French ones with lovely houses, but built up close towns of apartment blocks, such as Tolosa, Ikaztegieta, and Beasain. We turned onto a small country road at Beasain and made our way through one of the twistiest roads I’ve ever driven on through San Gregorio to a Pyrenean peaks.
Having taken pictures at a monument at a cloud covered viewpoint south of Lizarraga the scenery took a dramatic change. The cloud and precipitous drops disappeared and suddenly we were on the grain covered plains of Navarra.
The driving was easy in the sun drenched autumnal shades of the country. As we approached Logroño the bodegas (wineries) appeared. Loads of the them. The size and number of these operations was impressive, and more extensive that that in, say, Coonawarra.
Logroño is not a tourist town. The capital of La Rioja it is for the locals and their only industry – viticulture and wine making. Having all lost our battles to operate a Spanish public toilet we made for Calle San Juan, in Logroño’s market area. The energy of this area was fantastic, and enhanced as it was clearly some kind of public holiday or event day. We ordered tapas at three joints in calle. At the first mushrooms and prawns on mini-toasts. At the second a whole welter – toasted goats cheese with fruit, mussels with aubergine, prawn stuffed pimientos and on and on. My sister washed this down with the local grape juice. As the driver in the rio, I was left drinking some orange juice. We managed one more tapas joint, which sold Vega Sicilia, Roda and many more top rank wines by the glass. I bought my sister a small glass of Vega Sicilia for 15 Euros (AUD 30). By God it was good.
Pat was noticeably ill and she struggled to get around the town. We popped by a supermarket to get some stuff for her, and of course I had to raid the wine section buying a Faustino I Gran Reserva 1996 for a mere 18 Euros, and a 1996 wine from La Mancha for 6 Euros.
We made for the hotel. Pat’s navigation has been good and we got to Elciego easily. The Frank Gehry designed Marques de Riscal hotel is stunning, not only as a hotel, or its design, but as a contrast to the traditional village of Elciego behind, and again a contrast to the backdrop of the Pyrenees with its cotton wool clouds lodged firmly on the peaks. We had high expectations of the hotel but close up it just got better. The bathroom is huge, I actually got lost in it! Even the toilet had its own IP phone.
While Pat rested me and Ann wandered the beautiful streets of Elciego. Nice town. Drank coffee in a local bar and watched the longest TV program about squid conceivable. The Spanish know how to talk.
As the Autumnal sun began its slow descent into night Pat joined us in the hotel bar. I booked the evening’s meal.
“What time, Sir?”
“How about 7:30”
A pause.
“This is Spain, Sir. Nobody eats before 10. The restaurant doesn’t open until 9.”
We chose the ‘traditional’ restaurant as opposed to the ‘gastronomique’. Pat ate local asparagus the size of thick candles, Ann a lovely local stew that included clams. I had some deliciously light croquetes. I think the staff were a little upset when we ordered French white wines – grand reserve Sancerre and premier cru Chablis - and an awesome Portuguese red, but hey, if they are going to put it on the menu….
For mains we had pork foot (best dish of the night), lamb cutlets, and monkfish, washed down with Clos Mogador - okay from Priorat, not Rioja, but at least it is Spanish.
No comments:
Post a Comment