Where's Bertie? He remains perched on the hill to the east of Bilbao.
Weather: Sunny and warm by midday.
The funicular railway was a very efficient way to drop 750m or so down into Bilbao this morning. Contrary to what I said yesterday, the journey into town only takes 3 minutes, and the cost of 95 cents per person doesn't break the bank.
We had no real plan as to how we were going to go about our tour of the city, but a look at the exterior of the Guggenheim Museum seemed like a good place to start - after all, Mick (who hadn't seen photos of it) exclaimed on it when he saw it at a distance from the viewpoint yesterday.
To get there we first crossed the river via a glass-floored footbridge, although it seems that the glass floor proved too dangerous in wet weather, so it is now covered with a carpet.
A bimble along the river and the Guggenheim was before us. What an incredible building! This shot does not do it justice:
Behind the museum is a dog. A very large dog, made up of flowers. This is a photo of the photo shown alongside it:
Those flowers get completely removed and replanted twice a year. In May it gets planted with summer varieties, in October it gets switched to winter varieties. It is currently October, and a team of workmen were just putting the finishing touches to the scaffolding that they will use for the next 9 days (at least; more if the soil needs replacing) whilst they go about the gardening. Hence, this is all we saw:
From there we headed across to the 'old town', noticing on our way that we were surrounded by Brits. Incredible numbers of Brits. We don't go to very many places that are on the tourist trail for our fellow countrymen (and women, not to mention children), but once we thought about it we realised that Bilbao is on both cruise and ferry routes from the UK. Indeed, we saw a whole fleet of tour buses dropping off cruise passengers.
One of the most noticeable things about those Brits was how many were shivering away, having dressed in shorts and t-shirts only to find the temperature in the shade of the narrow streets to be just 12 degrees. Even we (in long trousers, jumpers and, in my case, a jacket) had to dive into a department store at one point for a bit of a warm up. Happily, whilst we were sitting in a sunny riverside spot for elevenses, it warmed up to a balmy 23 degrees, and even the shorts and t-shirt brigade must have been comfortable for the rest of the day.
We'd intended to have lunch in the old town. The only problem was that the restaurant we had selected was deserted - as was every establishment that wasn't a pintxos bar. Half past noon is far too early for a local to be thinking about lunch. Not wanting to sit on our lonesomes in a restaurant, but too hungry to wait until the locals started feeling peckish, off we trotted to the market, where a quick round of pintxos at one of the bars there filled a hole.
I failed to take a photo of the lunch I finally had. It was a squid stew, cooked in its ink, and thus was a black sludge, filled with small whole squid. Its lack of visual appeal was not reflected in its taste; it was delicious.
As we wandered back to the funicular station to bring us back up the hill (we shared a compartment with some Brits who kept us amused as we earwigged on their obvious lack of understanding as to how a funicular railway works) we compared notes about what we thought about Bilbao. For me I appreciated that there is some good and interesting architecture (most notably the excellent Guggenheim building, but dozens of other much older buildings too), and the riverside is nice too, but otherwise I wasn't that taken with the place. Mick, on the other hand, rather liked it. It has definitely been worth coming here though.
Looking along the river
I should probably mention that we didn't go into the Guggenheim. We weren't convinced, just from what our guidebook said about it, that we would like it enough to warrant the entrance fee. It had been our intention instead to visit the Museo de Bellas Artes tomorrow, on the basis that it is free on a Wednesday. Alas, a bit of Googling told me that the free opening was altered this summer, so that it is now free every day from 6-8pm, except for Tuesday, when it is closed all day (how bizarre - it's usually Monday when all museums are closed in Spain). Had I looked yesterday, we possibly would have nipped down last evening, but having missed that opportunity, we probably won't stick around to go tomorrow night.
Weather: Sunny and warm by midday.
The funicular railway was a very efficient way to drop 750m or so down into Bilbao this morning. Contrary to what I said yesterday, the journey into town only takes 3 minutes, and the cost of 95 cents per person doesn't break the bank.
We had no real plan as to how we were going to go about our tour of the city, but a look at the exterior of the Guggenheim Museum seemed like a good place to start - after all, Mick (who hadn't seen photos of it) exclaimed on it when he saw it at a distance from the viewpoint yesterday.
To get there we first crossed the river via a glass-floored footbridge, although it seems that the glass floor proved too dangerous in wet weather, so it is now covered with a carpet.
A bimble along the river and the Guggenheim was before us. What an incredible building! This shot does not do it justice:
Behind the museum is a dog. A very large dog, made up of flowers. This is a photo of the photo shown alongside it:
Those flowers get completely removed and replanted twice a year. In May it gets planted with summer varieties, in October it gets switched to winter varieties. It is currently October, and a team of workmen were just putting the finishing touches to the scaffolding that they will use for the next 9 days (at least; more if the soil needs replacing) whilst they go about the gardening. Hence, this is all we saw:
From there we headed across to the 'old town', noticing on our way that we were surrounded by Brits. Incredible numbers of Brits. We don't go to very many places that are on the tourist trail for our fellow countrymen (and women, not to mention children), but once we thought about it we realised that Bilbao is on both cruise and ferry routes from the UK. Indeed, we saw a whole fleet of tour buses dropping off cruise passengers.
One of the most noticeable things about those Brits was how many were shivering away, having dressed in shorts and t-shirts only to find the temperature in the shade of the narrow streets to be just 12 degrees. Even we (in long trousers, jumpers and, in my case, a jacket) had to dive into a department store at one point for a bit of a warm up. Happily, whilst we were sitting in a sunny riverside spot for elevenses, it warmed up to a balmy 23 degrees, and even the shorts and t-shirt brigade must have been comfortable for the rest of the day.
We'd intended to have lunch in the old town. The only problem was that the restaurant we had selected was deserted - as was every establishment that wasn't a pintxos bar. Half past noon is far too early for a local to be thinking about lunch. Not wanting to sit on our lonesomes in a restaurant, but too hungry to wait until the locals started feeling peckish, off we trotted to the market, where a quick round of pintxos at one of the bars there filled a hole.
I failed to take a photo of the lunch I finally had. It was a squid stew, cooked in its ink, and thus was a black sludge, filled with small whole squid. Its lack of visual appeal was not reflected in its taste; it was delicious.
As we wandered back to the funicular station to bring us back up the hill (we shared a compartment with some Brits who kept us amused as we earwigged on their obvious lack of understanding as to how a funicular railway works) we compared notes about what we thought about Bilbao. For me I appreciated that there is some good and interesting architecture (most notably the excellent Guggenheim building, but dozens of other much older buildings too), and the riverside is nice too, but otherwise I wasn't that taken with the place. Mick, on the other hand, rather liked it. It has definitely been worth coming here though.
Looking along the river
I should probably mention that we didn't go into the Guggenheim. We weren't convinced, just from what our guidebook said about it, that we would like it enough to warrant the entrance fee. It had been our intention instead to visit the Museo de Bellas Artes tomorrow, on the basis that it is free on a Wednesday. Alas, a bit of Googling told me that the free opening was altered this summer, so that it is now free every day from 6-8pm, except for Tuesday, when it is closed all day (how bizarre - it's usually Monday when all museums are closed in Spain). Had I looked yesterday, we possibly would have nipped down last evening, but having missed that opportunity, we probably won't stick around to go tomorrow night.
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