Bilbao to Otxandia
September 9th 1995
Full Moon
Otxandia's a village in the mountains, about an hour's drive south east from Bilbao. About half way, we began to climb up into the hills and it got noticeably colder as we left sea level. The countryside around there must have been really beautiful once, but by then it had been pretty well ruined by the heavy concentration of industry in the area around Bilbao. There were still a few trees around on the hillsides, but mainly what looked like plantations of imported species. I didn't see anything that really looked like a natural forest, although there seemed to be small patches of native trees in amongst the plantations.
The village itself was a nice place. The plaza had a large drinking water fountain on one corner, with four spouts of gushing iron-flavoured spring water flowing into a large round trough. You'd never have to worry about anemia if you lived in Otxandia, a few mouthfuls of that spring water every day would give you all the iron you needed to stay healthy. Around the square were old buildings, made from a creamy coloured stone, which looked like they'd been recently cleaned - although i doubt that was the case.
The village reminded me a lot of Mexico somehow, and particularly, i think, of Chiapas. It was a strange feeling, a bit like some sort of time warp. I couldn't exactly say what was similar and what was different to Mexican villages, but they were obviously related in some strange way. And obviously quite different at the same time. I guess it was the style of the architecture, more than anything, which gave me this eerie feeling of not-quite deja vu.
It was weird meeting Mamen again after so long. It had been over ten years since the last time i'd seen her and she'd changed a lot in that time. She looked a lot different - and just the same, in some ways, as people do - but she'd changed in more ways than just appearance, obviously. Somehow, though, with her more than either Begoña or Dione, the changes that happen to us all between our early twenties and our early thirties had had their effect. In a lot of ways she was like a different person to the woman i'd known in 1984 and 1985. This wasn't a bad thing, by any means, she'd lived through a lot and learnt a lot and had developed a lot as a result.
I would really have liked to have a long chat with her and learn about her views on life, and find out what those things were she'd learnt in the previous ten years, because i'm sure i would have found it interesting. But i didn't get the opportunity during that visit and, although i hoped it wouldn't be another ten years till i saw her again, i didn't know when the next time would be. (It was, in fact, nine years till i saw any of them again.)
We went to a bar called the Herriko, which was just round the corner from the plaza and had a couple of martinis, while Mamen and her friend (whose name didn't stick in my memory) went off to get some food and stuff together so we could go out for a picnic for lunch.
We went to a park not far out of Otxandia, where there was a bit of a forest and a cleared area with a few barbecue fireplaces and some timber tables. There were four or five other cars there and a few people around, but it wasn't really crowded. A couple of people went off to get some firewood and the rest of us sat around and talked and drank a bit of red wine and made salad and stuff. Eventually, they got the fire going and cooked the lumps of dead animal they'd brought and we ate.
Afterwards, we went for a walk through the forest, which seemed to be mainly a pine plantation, to look for a waterfall that was somewhere not far away. We didn't find it, but it was a pleasant walk and it was great to put my bare feet on earth again, after being in the city.
That evening, we went to a small house in the countryside just out of Otxandia. It was obviously a country holiday cottage of some sort, with a large kitchen downstairs and one large room upstairs, with lots of beds and mattresses in it. Nobody explained to me whose it was or anything about it, and if they talked about it at all, i missed out on the conversation owing to my imperfect grasp of Spanish. This happens quite a lot. Often, people say things to each other, that if they'd been said in English i would have heard and understood. But because they're talking Spanish and not speaking directly to me, i miss them and then i'm not quite so aware of what's going on around me as i would be normally.
It had been a weird day in a sort of a way, and had ended with Mamen's dog killing a white kitten that lived around the house somewhere. As usual at full moon, i was tired and went to bed as soon as i could.