Tandem Time at the DF'nQ in San Seb

FINALLY, the highly anticipated, free 3-day weekend arrived. Alex, Tori, Colleen, and I decided to brave the 7-hour bus ride in return for the beautiful beaches of San Sebastian in Pais Vasco (Northeast Spain). Pulling in a little before 10:30 pm Friday night, we were able to hop into a cab right across the street from the bus station. Thus began the HOSTEL DAVID EFFING QUINN adventure. Sweet Alexandra had taken on the job of booking our hostel weeks ago, but until now, none of us had known the name. Does “Hostel David Quinn” sound sketchy to you? Would the four of us be sharing the bottom bunk in David Quinn’s own room? This made entering the spacious, clean, 50 yards from the beach, free breakfast, towels, and WiFi all the more pleasantly surprising. Almost immediately, David and his precious Irish mother, Terri, had offered us to a wine and cheese in the kitchen. By the end of the weekend, we had become very close friends with DQ and Terri, two 32-year-old Aussie surfers, and three kids from LA studying abroad in Bordeau, France. I can’t believe I only paid 55 euros for three nights at this place.

After settling in our respective rooms (Alex and I in our private room and Colleen and Tori in their shared room), we headed over to a nearby supermarket to pick up some snacks and a couple bottles of wine. Later, we went walking along the “boardwalk.”I put this in quotes because it’s not your typical Ocean City wooden walkway, instead it’s a broad cobble stoned street along the beach lined with white iron railings. But that’s is pretty close, right? We ended up at a chic bar around 2:30am, which apparently was still much to early to arrive. I’m still learning. After about 20 minutes of lounging on the posh white leather stools, without one cat call, pick-up line, or even an approaching male of any kind, we knew something was up. Please understand that this is NOT a conceited statement. Rather, it’s Spain. If a girl doesn’t reach her quota of male comments or winks for the day, she really does feel gross. Amazing the things you get used to. As 3:30am grew nearer, more and more men came pouring into the club. Very well-dressed, affectionate men. Where are all the girls? It didn’t take long for us to put two and two together. Clearly, we weren’t wanted here. Why did this club have to be gay, it was right on the beach with a beautiful view! Tori was feeling sick and so had already headed back to the DQ at this point, but Alex, Colleen and I left soon after. On the walk home, we started talking with a local, asking about the nightlife. Please be impressed that we were even able to communicate with him as the dialect of Spanish in Pais Vasco is entirely different from Castellano in Salamanca. The conversation ended when Colleen tried to take a bite of the half-eaten hamburger in his hand.

The next morning, we helped ourselves to scrambled eggs, coffee, and toast…the closest thing to an American breakfast I’ve had in two months (nothing short of a blissful experience). The combination of waking up late, breakfast, and showers got our lazy butts outside around 12. Thankfully, the overcast 50-degree weather didn’t keep us from walking around and enjoying the scenery. We walked around Parte Viejo (the old part), not without shopping and café con leche breaks. Taking advantage of David Quinn’s suggestion, we enjoyed the BEST seafood paella I’ve ever had, about a fifteen minute from the hostel. Apparently DQ is something of a celebrity at this place too. Go figure.

On the verge of throwing up, we rolled out of the restaurant and made stops at the bike rental place, which was closed (this is when Spanish time is obnoxious), and the tourism office to pick of some flyers. I won’t get into this because it will just make me upset, but let’s just say that over the course of the weekend, we accumulated some VERY strong feelings for the man at the front desk. Thanks for being SO helpful buddy.

We returned to the hostel for siesta naps. Spain has made me into an old woman because I’m very cranky if I don’t get this nap on a daily basis. We woke up and made a trip back to the supermarket to pick up the fixings for a pasta dinner. This was an adorable and impressive dinner, both by economic and culinary standards. We even had an appetizer plate with cheese, crackers, and grapes. This began our impromtu party in the kitchen with all our new friends. It was so fun to be able to exchange experiences in France and Spain, and teach the Aussies a few common Spanish phrases to help them get around.

We all left and headed to a different club under the boardwalk (don’t pretend like you didn’t just sing the next line of the song in your head). And what a pleasant surprise that it wasn’t gay! Honestly though, I probably would have stayed regardless on account of the huge dance floor. Practicing my Aussie accent also kept me busy for a good portion of the evening. “Weh gah-in’ fah sahm behs in a bah in BonDay.” (“We’re going for some beers in Bundai.”) I must have said this one phrase at least 300 times in that 3-hour period. It paid off though cause I can pull off a pretty sick Aussie accent now. No bigs. Heading home around 4:30, I fell into bed knowing very well that we wouldn’t be sticking to our original plan of waking up early to go biking.
Once again, out the door around 12 the next morning, we were greeted with a beautiful day! Being that it was Sunday, the bike rental place was closed once again. Yikes, Spanish time. Continuing on with the plan, we made the hike up to a huge statue of Jesus off the beach. As beautiful as the pictures are, seeing the views in person simply doesn’t compare. Even though Colleen made me almost pee my pants a variety of times as a result of laughing attacks or the fact that I was very close to having a heart attack walking up these few hills, it was definitely worth it!

We headed back to the DQ to make the rest of our economic pasta for lunch and siesta for a bit. We enjoyed the early evening with mimosas on the beach, dipping our feet in the VERY cold Cantabrian Sea.

Regrouping at the DQ for showers and such, our entire hostel group headed out for the famous San Sebastian Pintxos (pronounced Pinchos) in El Parte Viejo. Pintxos are like little snacks that you have with a glass of wine of a cana (small beer). You’re given a big plate and you go up to the bar where they are displayed and choose the ones you want. This particular had everything from artichokes to bocadillos to croquetas and Spanish tortilla. This was a fun opportunity for us to share some true Spanish cuisine with the Frenchies and the Aussies. Returning to the DQ, Alex, Colleen, and I finished off the evening with 40-year-old virgin…thankfully, in English (did I mention that the DF’nQ also had an incredible collection of movies?).

Waking up before 10am for the first time all weekend, we ate breakfast (I am now sick of eggs), packed up, and still didn’t make it out the door before 12. Being the determined women that we are, we decided to have one last try at the bikes. SUCCESS! Obviously, Colleen and I got a tandem (2-person bike) and Alex and Tori opted for slightly less guay individuals. For an hour, we biked all along the perimeter of Playa de La Concha and beyond. This was probably my favorite part of the trip: another perfect day (clear blue sky, upper 60s), incredible view, my first (and probably last) time riding a bike in boots, and Colleen and I receiving plenty of “hola’s” from the locals. Do you know how hard it is to ride a tandem? By the end of that hour, we were basically a circus act. Returning the bikes with heavy hearts, we made a quick (yet VITAL) stop at a nearby Doner Kabap for lunch. We grabbed our things at the DFQ, where DQ himself called us a cab. The ride back was long and uneventful, leaving plenty of time to work on my 5 page Spanish paper for Intro. to Lit. Back to reality.
We only spent two days in Salamanca and now we’re traveling once again (this time, with the entire group). Woo I’m tired. We’ll be in Andalucia (southern region of Spain) until Monday evening, visiting Granada, Cordoba, and Sevilla. I’ve heard Andalucia is absolutely beautiful during the spring and the weather’s supposed to be in the 70s!! De puta madre.