If only every building had a giant puppy standing guard at the entrance.
Bilbao holds a somewhat special place in my recollections for the sole reason that it was the first city I travelled to alone. If you think that this is no big deal and a typical overreaction by me (because hey, I did move to another country by myself remember?) and not something particularly memorable, you’re probably right. BUT it was also the first city where I followed the map so damn accurately that I didn’t get lost once. If you have read my Madrid post, you’d know that I have a severe skill shortage in this particular area. You can imagine the look of sheer delight and the triumphal fist-pumps I pulled when I got to each place as promised by the map.
This Basque city is almost certainly synonymous with the Guggenheim Museum, designed by world-renowned architect Frank Gehry (who featured in the Laguardia post). The best thing about the museum is its unique shape and the sculptures that dot the outside. Sadly, the inside exhibitions are easily forgettable. When I went, the third/top floor was closed off, but after touring the inside I didn’t really mind.
Walking towards the main entrance of the metal artwork that is the building, artist Jeff Koons’ Puppy comes into sight. It’s adorable and colourful, and a lot bigger than you’d expect.
As I had arrived a little before opening time, I grabbed me some breakfast then decided to cross the bridge that’s near the museum. I distinctly remember climbing a ridiculous amount of stairs to reach the bridge (an activity that was to occur many times later that day) and incessantly squinting from the harsh sun.
The buildings that side of the city seemed very “Hollywood Hills” and “Florida”:
The inside of the museum itself is constructed around a central ‘atrium’ that is only comprised of curves:
Many of the exhibitions focus on themes such as reflection and space, while others consist of paintings and other arty stuff that was about God knows what:
I really loved the ‘tulips’ artwork, again by Jeff Koons. Although they give the appearance that they’re balloons and easily squeezable, they’re actually made out of stainless steel, allowing them to reflect the surroundings and the tourists:
Other cool sculptures included...
Upon finishing the museum, I made my way to Parque de Doña Casilda and the Fine Arts Museum (it’s free on Wednesdays guys!), making a quick pit stop in a shopping centre I found on the way.
Got a good view as I went:
From there, I can’t exactly remember but I think I caught the tram to get to the casco antiguo, the old part of the city.
Visiting any casco antiguo during siesta is never a good idea. It means quiet streets, endless wandering and sore legs. Everyone there was eating icecream so of course I had to too. Still being quiet, I walked out of the area and across another bridge (damn bridges) and checked out that side and also an old train station:
After siesta was finally over I made my way to the casco antiguo once again and discovered these stairs leading to a cathedral:
I was hesitant to climb it for two reasons:
It was boiling and all day I had crossed bridges and climbed stairs, and my goodness, those were a lot of stairs
A large group of boys sat smack bang in the middle and gave the very strong impression that they were not caballeros (gentlemen).
Now, as many people close to me know, when I don’t know what to do I tend to get so indecisive that I make life very difficult for myself. Case in point: to climb the stairs or find the elevator as alluded to by TripAdvisor.
Well, first finding the right metro station that contained the elevator was a mission, and when I finally got it, I got so confused from the instructions and lack of signage that I decided screw it. Walking back out and noting the bOyZ still there, I found a place to sit in one of the streets to rest my aching legs. But of course, some people had to get violently rowdy with each other near me so once again I had to get up. At this stage I was ready to punch someone in the face, and some orange juice.
That orange juice was drunk in Plaza Nueva, a small, unimpressive plaza where I was finally able to have a good sit down.
Refreshed, I decided to climb those stairs, and oh my golly gosh, they were so beautiful:
The cathedral at the top was okay, but the area definitely felt so far removed from the touristy city below. The day ended with me checking out the shopping district (and being offered to purchase stickers, then asked for Australian money from the same person), eating my first Subway sandwich in months and running to make sure I got the tram so I could be at the bus station on time.
The pain in my legs the next day was a good, albeit very sore reminder, of the little adventure I had. Bilbao is a lovely city for a day trip.
