And ended with me in the trunk of a Frenchmens car….. Maybe not one of my best ideas.
Heres the thing about San Sebastián, its a beautiful little beach town on Spain’s northern coast, it has a long interesting history, turquoise water, unrivaled local cuisine- just and overall stunning setting and charming culture, but its full of nocturnal Frenchmen spending all their Daddies money on gin and tonics for little blonde American girls. In short, this festive Spanish town is a refined way to party like it’s 1999…. or 1970s… I don’t know why but the french go nuts for disco music. I have no explanation for this.
Lets first start with the landscape and ambiance of San Sea Bass. Shall we?
In June, the city secured a coveted designation as a 2016 European Capital of Culture, ensuring that it will put its best foot forward for years to come.
Also, I happened to stumble on this simply terrifying parade.
All that beach goodness resulted in this however….
But seriously. A rule that truly benefits the community.
The Spanish…. They understand my physical and emotional pain.
Also, I looked fabulous on Saturday August 10th.
Theres no denying it, San Sebastian is beyond beautiful, but when the sun sets it becomes a pleasure place for horny twenty somethings who prey on anything with functioning genitals. It is simply indefinable.
As a solo female traveller I’m always on the fence of whether or not I should go out and create an experience for myself or just avoid it all together because its safer. So when I got a knock on my door from a frenchmen with on bottle of whiskey I had quite the dilemma.
I had previously planned to go out with a group of people from Barcelona but lost them when I tried to buy sangria from a grocery store…. The language barrier proved to be difficult. So it was either stay in my bed all night or go out with this creepy rando who clearly scoped out where I lived. So I compromised. I agreed to go out for a drink as long we stayed in the hostel and I opened the whiskey. Traveling solo is all about making compromises and always having an escape plan.
You may think I’m stupid, but I just think you’re paranoid and boring. And yeah I’ve fucking seen “Taken,” but helloooo, pay attention man, sex trafficking happens even more often in America. If I have to hear about that stupid, and might I add completely and utterly fictional movie again I’m going to loose it. Traveling is all about creating memories of a lifetime. So, if you spend your entire trip alone and in fear of something horrible happening you’re not going to have a good time. Its not about being afraid of what may happen, its about always being aware of what is happening.
Oh, and heres a tip, when someone dubious asks what you’re studying in college I always say I’m studying to be a police women. Its hilarious. I talk about my Heckler & Koch 9mm and they’re usually scared shitless. Nothing scares a european more than a crazy american that knows how to handle a weapon. Seriously. A select few find it weirdly erotic. In that case I usually just ask where the library is in french and run… It doesn’t work for everybody, but playing it off that I am a crazed american that knows how to handle lethal weapons works for me. Its all about knowing what works for you when you’re abroad.
Later the frenchmen asked me to go to the discothèque(no one goes to the club before 3am here)with them, at 2:30 in the morning I might add. So I said I had an 8am tour and headed up to my room. 3 minutes after I got in bed a got another knock on my door, this time asking for a french kiss, cause who doesn’t want to french kiss a frenchmen right? Not me. Never. Never ever bro. In this case I just gave a traditional “faire la bise,” the french tradition of kissing both cheeks, and promptly shut and locked the door behind me.
My second night I stumbled upon some more frenchmen. They’re everywhere. Really, even in Spain. We ended up going to a discotheque and I got everything payed for, hollaaaaa. But I did end up getting lost and approached a second time by another frenchmen for a french kiss which was slightly alarming. So I said I had to go to the bathroom, then I ran out the club and got into the nearest taxi. The moral of that story is that I felt uncomfortable and I left, I had an escape plan and I followed it. When you travel you have to trust your instincts and follow them.
I still had an amazing time, meet some amazing people, but traveling solo you have advantages and disadvantages, you have the freedom to do what you want and when you want, but you lack the security and companionship of traveling in groups. The moral of this rant is to have a good time, meet some interesting people, and create memories. Just don’t be an idiot. Take care of yourself and trust your instincts always.
Oh yeah and don’t trust the french, the young men that is. And the italians too for that matter, they have a weird thing about blondes, I did very well there.
These people. They are awful. Don’t trust frenchmen. Seriously. I hate it.
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