It has been a very hectic week since I first touched down in Europe and a couple of days since I arrived in Bilbao. From the minute I left my home base of Orlando, numerous stimulants have pulled on my neurons. I have never been as excited and tired at the same time as I am today. However, I would not have it any other way. After reuniting with long lost friends and family in Paris and Barcelona, I lugged my heavy American-sized luggage until finally landing in Bilbao. (Fun parenthesis here, despite sizing down and bringing only what I considered essential — I was still heavily judged by European airport security and was told my suitcase was only let on the plane because they saw I was American). Regardless of that slightly awkward experience, landing in Bilbao was an incredibly overwhelming affair. For the first time since I left my hometown of Caracas; I hadn’t landed in an airport surrounded by mountains as is my home airport of La Guaira and the Bilbao airport. Although this story is not as nature oriented as the rest of this blog will probably be, it did make me even more aware of the very strong connections we as humans are able to make with the landscape around us. Having not been home in about 4 years, I really appreciated the overwhelming feeling of home I got as soon as I arrived at this otherwise foreign and unknown city.

      Fast forward two days after —following very hectic orientation week happenings— I found a couple of minutes to slip away from the group and find my sit spot. I am sitting in a big bench in the riverwalk right in front of “La Ría”, which as you will come to find out, is very essential to the people of the city. In Spanish, “el río” is a masculine word used to describe a river. However, the locals have explained to us that since this particular river is found so close to the ocean and as such it sees heavy tide fluctuations, they decided to call it “La Ría” (which usually refers to just the point right next to the ocean). In front of me I have the main building (photo below) of “La Universidad de Deusto” where I will be taking classes on the Regional Independence Movements in Europe until the end of the semester. Behind me, the hustle and bustle of the city begins to unravel from the Guggenheim to the tallest building and beyond where tons of people walk around the city all day long.

            With my eyes closed, I can feel the soft, but very cold wind sweep at my hair, cheeks, and nose; the heavy footfalls of the runners; and, the chit chat of groups of ladies taking their post-lunch stroll. As I concentrate harder, I can hear the sounds of the cars in the roads on the other side of the river and even that of a couple of sirens. I can also hear the chirping of birds, however, I cannot tell where they are coming from, nor can I see them. As far as smell goes, I can smell three main things. On one hand, I smell the moisture in the air that comes from the river. On the other, I smell the fresh cut grass, that I love. Finally, I am convinced I can smell the hint of a garlicky Spanish kitchen — but I do not know if that is just because I am hungry since I don’t see any restaurants particularly close. Aside from the delicious food I have eaten here in Europe, another aspect that I have noticed is the stark contrast between the bright greens in nature and the lighter pastels which cover the architecture. I cannot wait to learn more about the intentionality of these as I have come to learn that the Spanish really value their buildings, streets, and such.

I will leave this post at that as I am being called back to Orientation, but stay tuned to learn alongside me about the capital of Euskadi— the Basque country. Agur!