|My friend, Jette, and I. Mutt and Jeff. And there are those who question why I want to dye my hair..|
The plane was packed like sardines, not a seat was left empty. But it was an uneventful flight. I finished reading "Out Stealing Horses" by Per Petterson, a great novel about Norway. It reminds me that silent water runs deep. Then I read "Tuesdays with Morrie," by Mitch Albiom and I wept all the way through. I'm sure the other passengers loved that. But it reminds you of your own mortality.
The plane arrived in Bilbao in the dark and the place smelled of cold and fir trees. I was glad I had on my jacket and boots. I looked outside and not a bus in sight and I had to get to the Bilbao bus station which is quite a few kilometers away. So I grabbed a taxi to the station. These are moments when I wish I had studied a bit more Spanish, which is next to nonexistent. Don't believe it when they say you can use your Italian. I could tell by their faces that it sounded like Chinese. But with some difficulty we came to an understanding and I found the ticket stall and headed for the bus. Actually I followed a young boy who bought a ticket to Vitoria after I did. Otherwise who knows which bus I would have gotten on.
|My friend, Suzanne|
This morning Susan, a friend of Suzanne, came by and we walked to the center of town for coffee. She is a woman from Scotland who has lived here for years. We got along famously, jabbering away as if we had known each other for years. Then we met Suzanne for a quick lunch of tortillas and topas. The topa was a piece of French bread with egg plant and sausage toasted. It was really good and of course the tortilla was also good. By the time I got home to Suzanne's my leg was kicking up a fuss, so I took a nap and swallowed some pain killers. Tonight we had steak with a large salad and hours of conversation. A good day all in all.