A Weekend in San Sebastian

April 2017

Towards the end of my time on my Workaway, myself and the new Japanese workaway Nioko asked for a weekend off so we could do some touristing. We had worked out that it would be fairly easy to get to San Sebastian as we were so close to the Spanish border anyway, so we decided to go for it!
I'd heard of the town and knew it was firmly on the tourist map, but aside from this I knew nothing about it.















We arrived in the late afternoon and walked the short ten minutes from the city center where our hostel was meant to be. At first we couldn't find it at all, there were no signs and we were worried we may have been ripped off (having prebooked it online) however we finally saw the hostel name stuck to one of the buzzers on an apartment complex! It was very small with only a couple of rooms (each dorm room fitted eight however) and the owner was very nice, happily giving us a map of the city and recommending his favourite eateries!
Nioko had a beautiful camera perfect for close-up shots and she was kind enough to send me her food photos after our trip - all food shots within this post are therefore her excellent photography!

















Our first stop was to the Pintxo (tapas) bars, where we were eager to try out the food San Sebastian is famous for! The city has so many Michelin starred restaurants it felt a bit ridiculous, however with our budget just slightly below the lofty reaches of Michelin, we headed for the quainter style of eatery.

















We didn't do too much that day beyond wandering and eating (far too much as we were too excited to choose what to eat so tried as many as we could!) We had an early night so as to make the most of the next day, and I was pleasantly surprised that the beds were comfortable and clean, and the lockers all had locks on them so we didn't have to worry about our stuff. The rooms were co-ed and I was soon forced to stuff my earplugs in to block out the snores, but aside from that our roommates were quiet and we were able to sleep well.
We decided to head to the iconic mountain around the bay as we had heard the views from the top were spectacular. We knew there was an old funicular that would take us up the hill, so we decided to walk to the base rather than taking a bus. It was a ridiculously beautiful day and already felt like summer, allowing us to enjoy our beach-side stroll immensely.















The small mountain of  Monte Igueldo dominated the town, and upon reaching it I was rather glad we were taking the funicular up! It was also incredibly sunny and I was starting to wonder if I'd applied enough sunscreen. The funicular had been running since the 1920s, and gave us a lovely old-fashioned and slow paced trip up the hillside.

























I was surprised and somewhat dismayed to find the hilltop had been taken over by children's fun-rides and looked like a mini Disney-land. However if you climbed a little higher, these dropped away and we were left with spectacular views.
















Obligatory photo-of-ourselves-in-front-of-something-cool completed, we admired the views for a little longer before heading back down.

















With perfect timing, we realized it was now lunch time, and the chance to try more food!

















A few hours of slowly picking our way through every Pintxos that appealed, we decided to push our limits further with one of the town's specialties, cheesecake at 'La Vina'.















Feeling completely stuffed, we stumbled to the beach and napped the afternoon away in the sun, watching the surfers jealously (well, maybe that part was just me!)

For our last night in San Sebastian, we decided to head to what we had heard was the best cheap Pintxos bar in town, Borda Berri. This quickly became my favourite restaurant that we tried, as although the bar was so crowded (a problem we found at every place at lunch and dinner-time however) that we were literally squished upright as if we were on the London Underground at 5pm, the food was so damn good it was worth both the wait and the crowds! Drinking cheap beer didn't hurt either.
Unlike the other bars we had been to, there was no food on the counter and instead the Pintxos were made fresh, and although a little more expensive (by which I mean 3.50 per dish rather than 1-2.50) they were also larger (and much, much nicer!) Every single thing we tried was to die for, but the fresh grilled Octopus blew me away, and was easily the best I've ever tried.

















We had befriended a couple of our dorm-mates that morning, and decided to all go out for a drink after dinner together, as it was everyone's last night in town.
Keiko headed off to bed early, so before too long we felt like the start of a bad joke - 'an American, a Kiwi and a Frenchman walk into a bar...' Jokes aside, it was a lovely evening and a wonderful trip overall!

Workaway Part III: Food, glorious food!

It seems over the top to make an entire post about food, but in this case I think it's deserved. Working in the kitchen everyday, I learned so much, from vinaigrettes to tips for what to do if my mayonnaise started to split.  

One of the first things I learned how to make was proper sauce. This took at least a full day to make, but it was well worth the time, becoming the most delicious sauce I'd ever tasted. It was also not cheap to make, and as such I haven't replicated it since. However its in my little book of notes, and one day I will make it again! 

I was extremely excited to finally try snails, I had sampled them once before in Greece and rather liked them, however I wanted to try the traditional and famous french method with the delicious garlic butter. We made our own version of the garlic butter, which turned out to have far more ingredients in it then I expected, included finely chopped gherkins! Everything was so well mixed and chopped it turned into an incredibly delicious butter that you really wouldn't have had any idea what was in it. And this turned out to be the best part - the snails were fine (though devilishly difficult to get out of their shells) and honestly didn't taste like all that much. You were really eating them simply to douse them in the butter, which was nice, but probably not something I would go out of my way to eat again. 

The amount the guests were given to eat was nothing short of astounding; starting with an 'amuse-bouche' to begin this culinary endeavour, we made all sorts of things from twisted cheese straws to little toasts with salmon and cream cheese, or our own home-made Foie Gras with white-wine jelly on top (pictured below) there was something incredible about the just-solid white wine jelly exploding sweetly in your mouth as you took a bite - I was a fan!

Secondly came the appetizer, from the Dutch 'Bitterballen' to homemade Focaccia bread, this was served with complimentary bubbly. Next the guests were seated at their table, and the first course was presented. Soup or veggies were our common concoction, white asparagus soup being one of my favorites. And then the main dish, which was usually ridiculously large and I was secretly impressed whenever guests cleared their plates. 

From Steak Tartare to Beef Wellingtons (which had so many steps they took two days to make) main course was always ridiculously impressive. 

And lastly, the dessert. My favourite course to make, I picked up lots of lovely new recipes along the way, from New York Cheesecake, strawberry and basil sorbet to homemade profiteroles (which are much harder to pipe correctly than you would expect!).

One of my favourite new things that I was able to do was using a blow-torch to caramelize my Crème Caramel! The torch we were using wasn't one of those tiny kitchen ones, but quite a large one which made it rather terrifying but also satisfying!

And of course, my surroundings were as beautiful as ever! All of food was locally sourced, from the local bakery, butchery, fruit and vegetable shop, and of course sometimes the supermarket.
The local butchery was in the nearby town of  Oleron-Sainte-Marie, an old local town with medieval houses and streets perched on the river, making it lovely to wander.

As they days passed and the snow on the mountains began to recede, the signs of Spring were everywhere. When the flowers all began to bud and flower, the smell (and view!) from the windows was just spectacular!

Workaway Part II: Visiting the surrounding countryside

April 2017

On the rare occasion that we had some hours off (which often occurred on Sundays) we would sometimes spend a few hours visiting their many friends in the region. I really loved these times as it gave me a glimpse into the culture and everyday lives of these people, and also took me to new places I would never otherwise see!
One of my first experiences with this was at a nearby little town where we stumbled across medieval tunnels! There was almost no signposting, and we could only go so far in before the ground turned very wet, where we then realized we didn't have the correct tools for continuing. One day I would love to return with the proper footwear and lanterns.

Early one morning the car needed to be serviced in Pau, so I jumped at the offer to come along and see a new town. We were up at sunrise, affording me an absolutely stunning view from the chateau, before setting off. I was dropped off in the town while the work on the car was done, allowing me to wander at will - just the way I liked it!

Pau was an old city with a small medieval centre and beautiful views across the Pyrenees and a long boulevard from which to enjoy the panorama. 

The town itself was established in the 12th century and grew out from the castle which was built for its strategic location for fording the river into Spain. This area would have been occupied far longer, however the material archaeology only dates back to this time. 

Today, it is a pleasant and bustling town that makes a very pleasant day trip of getting lost down the backstreets (the chateau is by guided tour only, so I didn't bother). 

On another of our little trips, we went to meet some Spanish friends of my hosts, who owned their own Chambre D'hote in the nearby mountains. It was fantastic to get to see the alpine landscape up close, and see the beautiful scenery that this area of France is known for.

The weather in the mountains was far more changeable than I was used to, and although at the start of our drive it was beautiful, by the time we had arrived a storm (and torrential rain) was well on its way. 

This only served to make the scenery even more dramatic however, and our coffee inside all the more cosy. 

Our last trip of note was to a Dutch couples house, who were firm friends with my hosts. They lived in a renovated watermill, with the river rushing right past (and under) their house, creating a stunning view!

March and April 2017: Respite in England and onto a Workaway

With many heart-felt goodbyes, I boarded my plane, destination England. I was leaving NZ behind for the second time - this time with the knowledge that I wouldn't be returning for a long time.

However, I knew that new adventures awaited me, and it was important that I make the best of my incredible opportunities in Europe.

 I arrived in London at 5AM, and headed for the train to stay with my - by this time pretty much adopted family - Joy, her partner and her lovely son Harvey. They surprised me with a Magnum-sized bottle of Prosecco as a welcome, and I soon settled in!

I was only there for a short time, about two weeks, but we made the most of the weekends by visiting a lovely pub by a river, where we could see barge-boats drifting by. That's definitely something I love about English culture, though I was glad to have missed most of the winter!

In mid-March, I headed to my pre-organised workaway in France, which would take up the next two months roughly. There's something rather nerve-wracking about heading into the unknown, to a place you don't know, to stay with people you've never met, and in a country where it isn't your first language. However it's exciting too!
Workaway is a website I've used a number of times in the past, and as long as you don't mind a bit of hard work, its the best way to immerse yourself in new cultures and travel the world for cheap.

















My first sight of the place was rather stunning, a renovated chateau just up from the beautiful and tiny old village of Moumour; the estate was huge, the gardens perfect. I arrived in the evening so did little that night except meeting my two hosts for the duration of my stay; a husband and wife team who ran the high end B&B with extreme efficiency.
Although I had little time off (no weekends) there were a few hours in between prepping the food for dinner in the morning, and beginning the rest of the food work and service in the afternoon, where I could explore (though I mostly read books and relaxed as I was rather exhausted). Even the view from the walls onto the village were gorgeous however, and these I enjoyed greatly.

















I was to spend most of the time working in the kitchen, which was something I was glad of, as the other side of the work (gardening and changing beds) held little interest to me, though it was work that was necessary to do at times of course. The view from my own room in an entirely separate building (the Chambre D'hote) was also stunning, looking onto the ruins of an 11th century tower, which was rumored to have tunnels running beneath it.

Working in the kitchen here was hard work; far exceeding the 5 hours that workaway guidelines stipulated, and working 7 days of 7, rather than 5 of 7. However, as it was for a short period, I tried to learn as much as I could, even when it meant working until midnight most nights to get the kitchen ready for the next day. Working here not only gave me an entire notebook of recipes and methods, tips and tricks that I picked up, but also taught me more about the processes that go on in the kitchen, and what hard work it is. 

I had unfortunately arrived at the beginning of what I thought was a cold, but soon turned into a fever and stomach bug that left me unable to eat for five days and feeling deathly ill. Luckily my hosts were extremely kind and forced me to best rest for a week to recover. Although it felt awful relying on the kindness of strangers, I made up for it once I recovered by working as hard as I could. 

Exploring the little village in my free hours was a joy in itself, as although it wasn't travelling far, it was wonderfully quiet and picturesque. 

On the days when there were no guests (as I was in the shoulder season in Spring just leading up to summer and thus only slowly beginning to get busy) I worked in the gardens, helping keep their enormous grounds pristine. They had spared no expense over the three years of renovation that it took them to get the place as they wanted it, and as such it was the sort of place I could never imagine staying. 

From the swimming pool to the many gardens, the home cinema to the real-gold rimmed plates (that I was terrified of dropping) it was a place so out of my league I could easily imagine myself going back a few hundred years and fitting in rather well with 'the help'! I was in no way treated like this however; the work was hard, and a lot was expected of me, but in return I was treated with respect and like family, eating with the owners, trying fine wines and watching movies with them in the evenings. I gave a lot, but was given a lot back in return. 

New Zealand Part V: A Typical Kiwi Holiday

Before I knew it, I only had a week and a half left in New Zealand, thus decided to make the most of it (coupled with the fact that Shyla was on uni holiday) and spend a couple of days at her aunt's bach in Mount Maunganui, and then a few days camping at our traditional spot at Tawharanui.

The first night we were quite tired from the drive, and settled in with board games and kiwi beer for a quiet night in!

On our way down we had driven through Karangahake gorge, and upon realizing how scenic it was, we had decided to return the next day to hike it. 

The gorge had become a centre for the goldrush in the 1800s due to the numerous gold veins found around this area, and the building of a quartz-crushing factory among other processing facilities. 

Nowadays there's little left of these factories, beyond ivy-covered walls and rusting machinery, however its really fun to explore, and some of the old tunnels are open to the public to wander also. I personally really enjoyed following the old train tracks that once led to Paeroa. Now they mostly meander off into the bush, end abruptly off cliffs, or simply vanish entirely. 

Aside from what made this area historically fascinating, it's also an area of natural beauty. The bush walks are long and shaded for the most part (though don't wander down the bike path by accident, as it's rather long, a bit dull and completely without shade). For a time the path follows the river, before cutting back into the forest and past much of the ruined factory. 

 

After our long and sweaty day of trekking through the gorge, we were rather desperate for a swim. Luckily, a five minute walk from the bach was a small, tucked away beach that Shyla's relatives called a 'secret' bay, and indeed we did have it to ourselves! A sunset swim was the perfect way to end the day.

From Mount Maunganui, we faced the long drive all the way up to Tawharanui, which took us about half the day, excluding rest stops. We arrived at the campsite in the late afternoon, and set about re-familiarising ourselves with the camp so as to pick the best spot for our tent. It was smaller and less exciting than we remembered, though I suppose that's often true of places from your childhood. The beach was just as glorious as we remembered however, and we enjoyed walking along the beach and cooking up a feast on our little camping stove.

The last night we went for a spontaneous dusk swim, the water was beautifully warm and the sun was just setting behind the hills. It was strange knowing that in just a few days I would be heading across the world again, with no idea of when I would next return. 

New Zealand Part IV: Parties and Palmerston North

Returning from my camping trip, it felt strange to settle into New Zealand life, knowing it was so short-term. I tried to see as many friends as possible, and not count down the days I saw so quickly slipping away. I took the opportunity to spend a lot of time with two of my very close friends, Shyla and Ben. 

My big event for January aside from seeing family and friends, was helping my good friend Tash with the planning for her 24th birthday. I had missed her 22nd and 23rd, so it was really lovely to be there for this one. She had organised a country theme, which turned rather Western in our decorations, including hay bales!

Unfortunately the weather refused to behave and turned rather stormy, so we made the executive decision to pitch the tent, just in case. And thank goodness we did as we would find ourselves all huddling inside later in the night, as the rain poured down. It didn't matter too much as we all enjoyed the good food, good company, and great costumes! (Even if my neck-tie did make me look more like a flight attendant than a cowboy). 

I had organised to go down and see my old school friends Jo and Raiden in Palmerston North in the beginning of February, and before I knew it I was there!

Palmerston North has always had the label in NZ as a terrible hole (not unlike Hamilton) however the town itself is rather sweet, and as long as you had a good friend group I think it could be good fun (plus housing is very cheap).

I knew Jo and Raiden from school, and had always kept in touch even though we didn't see them often after they moved to Palmerston North for their studies. To go down and visit them was a fantastic opportunity! We had such an awesome week, the highlight being when Raiden and I spent the day making a Quidditch pitch entirely from scratch, and playing Beer Pong with it.

























Their adorable and giant cat Max was a permanent fixture in their home.

We took a day trip out to the beach - which was odd for me in itself, as I had spent most of my life living only 5 minutes from the beach. Palmerston North however, is firmly inland, leading us to visit the town of Foxton, both to enjoy the full-sized working Dutch windmill 'De Molen', and also take a walk along the wild west coast beaches.

New Zealand Part III: New Years

Since I was 18 years old, I had gone camping with my friend Shyla every year on New Years, up until I went to Europe. It felt so good to finally get back into the tradition and once again be setting off into rural New Zealand, a boot full of camping equipment, and the backseats of the car full of boxes of food and a healthy amount of wine. 

Camping at Tawharanui up north from us had always been our place of choice, however to have a spot here at New Years one needed to book in June, so we had no chance this year. Instead we went to our secondary spot,Waikawau Bay, in the Coromandel.

 The great thing about this campsite - aside from being on long gravel roads (which many might see as a negative, but meant that it wasn't full of people) is that it borders on both a beach and the New Zealand bush. Being so close to the forest meant it was easy to escape to the shade and the river to cool off, as well as go on bush walks up to the summit (the view was lackluster however) and to check out the swimming hole!

The beach was also lovely, though of the very large slightly wild variety. However just over the hill (a few minutes drive away) was a much calmer, more secluded bay with clear waters and lots of sunshine and shade.

We had great times at this campsite, cooking up all types of things and exploring the surrounding area. However due to a series of unfortunate events we ended up moving the tent about four times which started off as irritating, sank to utterly frustrating, and finally ended on rather hilarious in its ridiculousness. 

First it turned out we had ended up in a wind-tunnel, so we moved the tent to a more sheltered spot. Here was our favourite spot in the corner, well served by shade and sunshine, and we would have happily stayed here if not for a marauding crew of people. Two rather unpleasant families moved in next door to us, and spent the entirety of the afternoon screaming abuse at their children and playing hardcore rap. We moved the next morning. 

This however, was not the end of the tale!

Aside from the fact that we were vindicated late the next day when the family got kicked out for secretly having a dog with them (a strict rule in a national park with endangered birds) we also had a night of terror with the mysterious cackling noise... 

To explain further, we went to sleep quite happy as usual that night, only to be woken up at about 2AM by a large something rustling by our tent. And then... 'HAHHAHHA' the thing cackled, hoarse and throaty, like an old man with a cough.

 This is it! I thought, pulling my sleeping bag tight around me; there's an old ax-wielding maniac outside the tent, and any second now he'll come hacking his way in. Shyla meanwhile, happily slumbered on, earplugs keeping her sound asleep. 

 Hope was not all lost however, as the thing cackled from further afield, and eventually wandered away. In the morning we discovered the monster had been a possum, but still decided to flee to a new location, just in case.

=

Although the forest stream was too cold to swim in, we soon appropriated it for a new purpose. On hot days when we needed to seek solace in the shade, we chilled our wine in the water!

New years was a night of fireworks and listening to people countdown in the sand dunes as we lay on the beach and looked up at one of the clearest night skies I had ever seen, under the gaze of countless stars. Coromandel is one of the most beautiful places in NZ, and well worth going off the beaten track for. After all - to paraphrase Robert Frost - take the road less travelled by, as that makes all the difference.