This July we will live in Ataun, aka paradise, aka Garden of Eden, aka Goeirri profundo, aka Andoni Munduate's village. We pulled into our new country abode yesterday evening, with the cows, sheep and the people staring at the crazy American family on bike.
Last night we had dinner in the local tavern. People here are very Basque, and Spanish doesn't come out of their mouths very naturally. There we were speaking English, with everyone staring...little B started singing a popular song just to make sure everyone was aware of our presence.
On the way out, an old man called after her (in Basque): "hey, blondie, goodbye!" She turned to him, hesitated for a millisecond, and said (with a whole lot of attitude, and in basque, which she later translated for us) "What did you say??" The old man said "Ala!" (which is an expression of great surprise), the teenage boys next to us shut their mouths, and we beamed with pride.
This town is so small that the market is in the bread store, and there is a butcher but no fish monger (big deal here). Our new apartment is the apartment of the parish, so there are relics, priests garments, and books everywhere. We have a little table on the balcony where we take our meals, and today we rustled up som piquillo peppers, slow cooked with garlic and olive oil, lentils, hardboiled eggs, potatoes, bread, and wine.
This afternoon we were invited to watch a local race in which a horse, a biker, and a runner race up the highest hill in the town to see who wins. However, we have some unfinished business to attend to in town, not to mention the opening of the Loaf. San Sebastián calls...