We, ahem, Basque in the glory of northern Spain
Markus Bidaux discovers a region steeped in tradition that’s recovered from oppression to become a different destination for LGBTQ travellers going to Spain
My heart rate is quickening as a cracking noise reverberates through the large building over and over again. I’m in Bilbao in northern Spain, watching a game of pelota, an ancient Basque sport.
It’s similar to squash but the court is larger and they have xistera, long curved plastic scoops, strapped to one hand to catch and throw the ball.
The two players make it look easy but all I can think of is the ball ricocheting off the wall and cracking my skull open. Thankfully, I am given a tennis ball for my lesson and my heartbeat returns to normal.
The players tell me to put the ball in the xistera, and, with a limp wrist, arch it over my head towards the wall. Soon I am hurling tennis balls and grateful for my limp wrists, for which I was bullied during PE lessons at school.
The lesson is over too soon and I head back into the fresh air.
Pelota is my first insight into the history of the Basque country, an autonomous region of Spain, which has its own culture and language.
Bilboa receives far fewer tourists than some other Spanish cities, but it’s a great gateway to the area. It does not have the hedonistic allure of Spain’s gay meccas Gran Canaria and Sitges, but it has formed an “Atlantic rainbow” with the seven provinces of Basque country, four in the north- eastern corner and three adjacent in France. Being an LGBTQ destination is not always about having the most gay bars or beaches, it is just as important to genuinely value the queer community whether local or from afar.
After a quick railway ride up Artxanda Hill, I have all of Bilbao in my sights. The Nervión river cuts through the city like a horse shoe, and forests and mountains surround it, creating a micro- climate, making this one of Spain’s greenest regions. But be warned, it can rain on about 140 days a year, so pack an umbrella.
My guide tells me that Bilbao has been transformed since the 1980s when its river ran black and smelled awful thanks to the mining of iron up stream.
These days, the properties hugging the river are the most desirable homes and the 1997 riverside addition of the Guggenheim Museum turned the industrial city into the region’s cultural hub.
The museum’s metal exterior weaves together and mimics the colour- changing sheen of fish scales as the sun passes over it. Outside, art sculptures have been sown along the riverbank, most notable is Jeff Koons’ 40ft- tall Puppy, which is covered in flowers, making it a mascot for the city.
I’m told that Bilbao Pride’s parade each June is made up of dozens of boats that cruise along the river.
The flotilla is packed with colourful revellers waving rainbow flags.
Sadly, I’ve missed the four- day celebration, but I’m here for the first Atlantic Conference, specifically focused on LGBTQ equality, diversity and inclusion.
It’s the perfect spot to host the event since its radical shift on LGBTQ rights mirrors that of the local way of life.
The Basque people have an ancient culture, which was oppressed when the dictator General Franco seized power after the Spanish Civil War ended in 1939.
Franco’s desire for a totalitarian state led to tens of thousands of Basque people fleeing the fighting. Picasso immortalised the conflict in what is arguably his most famous work, the anti- war mural Guernica.
All this suffering led to the establishment of the separatist leftist group ETA in 1959. Thankfully, the Basque language is taught in schools once more and 2018 saw the disbandment of the terrorist group after years of de- escalation.
Meanwhile, the legal status of homosexuals went back and forth in the early 20th century, but during Franco’s reign LGBTQ people were
labelled a danger and locked up in prisons called galerías de invertidos, or galleries of inverts, where they could be held for up to three years.
Franco’s rule only ended with his death in 1975. Just four years later, homosexuality was legalised, and in 2005 Spain introduced nationwide same- sex marriage equality.
The Atlantic Conference is a source of inspiration with guests flown in from around the world to give talks.
LGBTQ activists from Mexico, Uganda and Poland tell their tales of hardship and progress before locals take to the stage to talk about the region’s sexual diversity within the police forces, and the main beer and bottled water companies’ Pride campaigns. And in the evening, the Guggenheim is open for a gala dinner.
The following day is all about food, starting with a tour of the Ribera Market, an indoor food hall.
Although the site dates back hundreds of years, the current mercado was built in 1929, and a complete renovation has given the art- deco building a new lease of life.
Inside, there is a mix of huge clear and stained- glass windows allowing light to pour on to the stalls. The produce looks amazing and luckily my next stop is on the opposite side of the river bank at Mina, a small restaurant with only 25 guests per service.
The interior features exposed stonework walls, white- washed timber beams and an oak bar where guests can see into the open kitchen.
All the food is prepared using ingredients from local farmers and the Ribera Market. They only offer a short and a full tasting menu, 10 and 14 courses respectively, and it changes daily depending on availability. We have waistlines to consider and opt for the “short,” which does not disappoint.
Back in the afternoon sun, ever so tipsy from the paired wines, I am convinced to try the ice cream at Tostadero Nossi- Bé. Classic flavours of chocolate and vanilla are available, but there’s also a tangy frozen roquefort
cheese with raisins, a black squid ink gelato and a cod flavour.
There is even one called kalimotxo, which is based on a uniquely Basque drink consisting of equal parts red wine and cola. A taste proves it’s not bad, but a whole scoop? Make mine a mint- choc- chip, please.
The next course is basically a bit of bar hopping. The difference here is that many bars will have pintxo
( pronounced pincho), Basque- style tapas, which traditionally come skewered on a toothpick.
This is a great way to discover Bilbao’s Old Quarter: strolling along the cobbled streets from one bar to the next, fuelled by a little anchovy with pickled pepper here, grilled octopus there and some deep- fried croquettes washed down with a beer.
This is the best tour of an old town I can remember, but for the tastiest pintxos, I have to drive to the region’s culinary capital, Donostia- San Sebastián the following day. It’s an hour’s drive east and sits on the coast. Whereas in Bilbao the pintxos are pre- prepared and laid out on the bar for you to pick at, here they are often made to order and more refined.
Maybe that’s why the city sports more Michelin stars per square mile than Paris.
I walk through the cool narrow street of its Old Quarter before slipping off my shoes to wander along the warm sand on one of the city’s three beaches, which even on a weekday in autumn is quite busy.
My next stop is Hondarribia on the border with France. This quaint fishing village has a lovely bay filled with boats, and most of the former fishermen’s colourful houses have been turned into restaurants, pubs and shops. Being so close to France, I can’t resist driving over into French Basque country. Only 30 minutes up the coast is Biarritz.
“This city sports more Michelin stars per square
mile than Paris”
The coastal city feels similar to Brighton, with a history of hosting royals dating back centuries, but now it lays claim to being Europe’s surfing capital — it’s rumoured that the sport was introduced to Europe in 1957 when screenwriter Peter Viertel, working on The Sun Also Rises ( starring Errol Flynn and Tyrone Power), saw the Atlantic waves and requested his surfboard be shipped from California.
The mix of chic sophistication and a causal laid- back vibe can be seen on the high street where Hermès is only a block away from the Rip Curl surf shop.
My mouth salivates at the best patisserie shops I have seen anywhere outside Paris, before visiting Le Surfing restaurant on Côte des Basques Beach. Its Fifties Americana style wouldn’t look out of place in California.
The Le Mister Surfing burger with chips hits the spot as I watch people in wetsuits riding the waves, and a school class have their boards laid on the beach as they practise popping up on them.
I walk along the promenade, looking over the rugged cliff face and jagged islets, the biggest being Rocher de la Vierge ( The Rock of the Virgin), a little island with a statue of the Virgin Mary at the top.
Across the bridge and past men fishing over it, I spot the city’s white lighthouse in the distance. As the sun sets, I pass the art- deco aquarium and three- storey beach- front casino. There are a few gay bars in Biarritz that I could explore but it’s time to head back to Bilbao. Truth be told, it’s a mistake to attempt to try to fit Donostia- San Sebastián and Biarritz into one day.
On my final day, I take one last trip out of Bilbao to Bodega Berroja, a vineyard established in 2001, with more than 1,000 hectares of land.
The vineyard specialises in txakoli, an award- winning ( slightly) sparkling wine. The owners have built a large rust- coloured tasting room with
“The islet is connected to the mainland by a set of
240 winding steps”
panoramic views of rows of vines, where we sample the wines with local cheeses and phenomenal tinned tuna.
I’m grateful not to be driving today as we head to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, a little islet connected to the mainland by a set of 240 winding steps. It’s possibly best known — outside Spain — for doubling as Dragonstone in
Game of Thrones, so you can live your best Daenerys Targaryen fantasy here. A word of warning, though: the castle on the hit show was CGI and in reality a small church sits at the top of the islet.
Back at my hotel, I’m standing outside with my luggage, waiting for my taxi to the airport and I see a couple of young women holding hands as they wait for the pedestrian sign to turn green.
I may be on the edge of the Old Quarter, but Bilbao and the Basque people are looking to the future.