15-Dec-24 San Sebastian, Basque Country / Spain

Take the train to Spain. 2.5hrs on the TGV to Hendaye. French border town on the Atlantic. Snow capped Pyrenees to my left. Flashes of the Atlantic on my right. Whizz by at 180mph.

Thinking to myself that it’ll be warmer in Spain. Because I have only packed summer gear. It’s always warm in Spain. Isn’t it?!

Turning right out of Hendaye TGV station to walk the 50m to the Euskotren. A couple of Basque commuter carriages that transfer you across the border at Irun and on to San Sebastian. The sort that only run every half hour and timed to coincide with the TGV timetable.

Plenty of space on boarding. So spread out. My 6’5” heavyweight frame is not designed for these poxy little commuter carriage seats. Tight fit. But it’s OK. Have plenty of legroom to stretch out. Have sat at a 4 seat bay. Two seats facing each other. For extra leg room. Bag is on floor by window seat. I. On the adjacent aisle seat. Train is only about quarter full.

Well.

It was quarter full. Until. We cross into Spain. And stop at Irun.

Load of football fans get on. And fill all the other seats with a few standing. Father and 10 year old son sit on seats facing me. Both have earrings. In that oikish way. Now a bit of squash.

Assume there has been a football match in Irun which has just finished. And they’re all going home. So won’t be too bad as they’ll all get off at subsequent stops.

Er no.

Soon becomes apparent football match is at my destination. San Sebastian. Sod it.

Next stop. More fans get on. But no more seats. So jostling in the aisle. Seat blocked by my bag is now sat in my another oik who is having to sit skew-whiff as bag is now jammed up by the window. Which means that father also has to sit skew-whiff as there’s not enough room for four legs and a bag to sit properly…there being no overhead rack to put bag on. Fortunately, young son is opposite me so there’s a few more inches of leg room in my favour.

Next stop. More fans get on. But no more space. But that doesn’t matter. We’ll just push a bit more to squeeze in the train.

A woman stands cramped near our seats.

Being the perfect gentleman. Stand up and offer her my seat. Not able to speak Basque. Or Spanish. Motion in silence that she should sit in my seat. Which she gratefully accepts.

Retrieve my bag to create more space in the seating area so I can then stand in aisle with bag.

But then. Father picks up son and places him on his lap. To vacate seat for me.

So. There we are. Five of us all crammed in to a four seat bay. Not enough leg room. All being jostled by those standing in aisle. Now I have to sit skew-whiff. To avoid touching woman. Arm rest means I have to sit with knees facing into the seating. Along with other knees and legs. Father is a big bloke. I’m a big bloke. We’re up close and personal. Skin to skin. Arm rest biting into my thigh.

We are all contorted, dear reader. Not speaking to each other. We’re all strangers.

It’s dire. Never ever been that cramped on a train before. Miss Nottingham and younger sister, we’ll call her Bloss, will no doubt be scoffing that I haven’t been on a German train to the Baltic in peak holiday season!

Twenty minutes of this. It’s so full that no one can get on at subsequent stops. Noisy football banter pervades the carriage.

Penultimate stop is clearly for the football stadium. Everyone disgorges from the carriage. Father says goodbye in Basque and shakes my hand. To which I reply, “I’m British.” To which woman retorts with, “I’m British as well!” And then buzzes off.

No taxis at San Sebastian main station. So a 10 minute walk to Hotel de Londres y de Inglaterra (https://hlondres.com/en/). The grand old dame of San Sebastian. Right on the promenade. With magnificent views of the bay from room.

Any thoughts of Spain being warmer are quickly dispelled. It’s cold. Very cold.

Tapas time. At Sirimiri tapas bar. It’s cold, dear reader. So you would think they would close the flipping doors. Wouldn’t you. But. No.

One of the nicest pints of beer from the local brewery washes down an excellent selection of pinxtos (pinchos/tapas in Spanish…we’re in Basque country now). Filet steak. Fresh anchovies. Tuna. Croquettes. Ceviche. All delicious.

There’s a nice vibe here, dear reader. San Sebastian knows how to do beer and pinxtos.