Vizcaya (Biscay in English) in the Pais Vasco (Spain’s Basque Country) is gorgeous. The western Pyrénées drop down here to mere hills, still steep and frequent enough to block views of more than a few hundred metres. The villages isolate themselves in valleys and bays. Hamlets and individual houses scatter themselves along the twisty roads.
The construction that has invaded Catalonia and La Rioja extends here too. Building cranes poke above the skyline in every village and town. Spain prospers and shows it through internal expansion.
Unlike the south coast, however, green dominates the eye. Trees, grass, brambles and gardens all display various shades of green. If I painted, I could spend years visually describing the grey and white of villages sitting in their green landscape.
I don’t want green. I grew up with green.
I want stark. I want the green overpowered by hot shades of grey, gold and brown.
I want a sun so intense I can’t breathe at midday.
I’m glad I’ve come, but in four weeks time, I’ll be glad to leave.
- Knowing what you want comes from learning what you don’t want.
- Appreciate every experience, even if it isn’t perfect.