I started this one last weekend, but I was too exhausted after the weird festival that never ends and then just couldn’t find time during the week. I am going to roll three of these out before I leave for France on Sunday.
Okay, I wrote that ↑ on Friday…it is now Tuesday…EDIT…scratch that, it is now Wednesday...and I’m in either France or Switzerland EDIT…I’m in France, St. Genis Pouilly, I’m still a little confused about which side of the border I’m on…EDIT…that has been cleared up, but I can go outside and run across the border right now if I wanted to, but I have a few hours before work so I’m going to at least get this one up EDIT…HA!...I might get all caught up on everything from a Greek beach next week! And yes, Ben, you can comment on any post now.
Oh no, not these two again. Everywhere I go I see them. I’m not sure why they’re shoved behind the bar today, but yesterday I saw them standing up against some buildings, like they just robbed a bank and were waiting for the cops to run past them. I actually get a little scared whenever I see them. And this morning, I got to see them walk and spin. That was a treat and a half. So I followed THEM around for a change.
Today there was a third character that I haven’t seen yet, a little short king who kept twirling like I guess you would twirl if you were a king. If I see him twirling in a pintxo bar later I’m running for the hills. I took a bunch of little crappy video clips of whatever the hell they were doing. I’m assuming practicing for the festival that never ends. When I get a chance I’m going to edit them, but here’s a little peek.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiAvTvrZV38
I was headed to the cider museum when I was interrupted by the wandering processional puppets. Agastarriaga. That’s how I pronounced the name of the town to the confused bus driver. Not sure how I managed to mangle “Astigarraga”, but I did. I practiced it and everything. And it seemed a lot easier to remember than Sagardoetxea, which even made matters worse. I thought it was close enough, but he really didn’t know what I was talking about, and not in that dicky way that you get sometimes when you refuse to call a large coffee with milk something like latte gigante, he honestly did not understand me and was really trying to figure out where I was going. I wonder if I would I be able to understand if someone asked me where “Blorkoyn” or “Manthannan” was?
Anyway, after I made the international sign for “does this bus go to the cider museum” with my man hands, I was on my way. So, I love cider. And I love Spanish cider, sidra, and was super excited when I saw there was a museum here. Almost as excited as I was that there was an Alphabet Museum. Basque cider has a very distinct taste, different than Galician cider and very different than Irish and English ciders. I just recently had French cider and it was similar, but the cider museum lady was really adamant that nothing is similar. More on cider mañana…but here are some photos of
Okay, those spinning dolls are pretty scary. And that pasta looks to die for! And I would NEVER use one of those urinal things, I’d rather pee my pants. Haha.
I kinda wanted to use one of those urinal things. Hahaha, just kidding, well, sort of. Yeah, those dolls are a little creepy, huh? And they were all over the place, usually just standing and I’d get scared every time I turned a corner and they were there.
And I’ll make you some Aunt-Tricia-in-Spain-style pasta!