We left Barcelona after a lengthy baggage check-in at the airport which required the emptying of one suitcase and redistribution of toiletries into the other suitcase so as to respect the strict 23.5kg baggage limit imposed by the Franko-era-esque airline regulations. My stash of pilfered mini hotel shampoos and conditioners safely aboard the aircraft, we flew to Bilbao where our chatty chauffeur did not allow his complete lack of spoken English to interfere at all with his prolific discourse. His accent was deeply Basque and struggle as I might to understand his musings, I could not make sense of it. I resorted to smiling politely and the occasional nod, which seemed to satisfy him. We arrived at the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao and had a tour of this most impressive Frank Gehry masterpiece and its contents. Our guide Javiera is an art student at the University and a punk rock devotee. Her electric blue highlights and EMO make up contrasted with her traditional Basque-inspired museum uniform, resulting in a twisted yet charming effect. Joining us on our tour was a senior couple from the midwest who were straight out of central casting. Javiera did an admirable job tolerating the rotund husband's frequent inquiries into whether the permanent collection was on loan from an American museum.
After the tour we were picked up by our prolific chauffeur who delivered us to the awe inspiring Marques de Riscal Hotel in the La Rioja wine region. The hotel is another work of Frank Gehry and it is spectacularly set against the rollicking vineyards of the lush Spanish countryside. We checked into our suite and I was thrilled to find a plentiful variety of mini Caudalie bath products. You see, my travels will be taking me to France to my cousin's villa in St. Tropez, and chic mini toiletries are something I always bring as a bit of a running joke. I emptied the entire selection into the hotel laundry bag, and after locking it away in the room safe and asking the maids to replenish our toiletries, headed out for a walk of the expansive grounds.
Dinner that evening was outdoors in the tiny medievel hamlet of Laguardia at the restaurant Los Parajes in the central square, where we enjoyed the best burrata cheese on earth and the most divine meal of the trip. We kept ordering pinxos as each was better than the last, and I suppose I was slightly embarrassed when the waiter suggested we might have eaten enough and perhaps should consider dessert.
Back in our hotel suite at 1am, the toiletries had been restocked and after tucking the beautiful bottles and razor kits into the safe, fell into a glorious slumber.
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