The train ride to Bilbao.

An old woman rode in our train car with her tiny dog. Her tiny, annoying, whining, barking dog. I didn’t quite understand her entire life story that she told to her unfortunate neighbor, but I heard her say “muerto, muerto!” a lot when she started crying. Her dog barked and growled at every person who walked by its crate, and she would yell “Calla! Calla! Shut up!” at the dog, and then would offer it a bocadillo to keep it quiet. She finally fell asleep and moaned for the rest of the ride.

Bilbao.

The biggest city in the Spanish Basque region. I loved it. The Guggenheim museum, architected by Frank Gehry, is incredible. Unfortunately, we got there on a Sunday afternoon and were there only through Tuesday morning, so didn’t get to see much of the touristy destinations in the city. Or sample the legendary Basque cuisine. But we got to go out to the ocean, our first trip to the Atlantic in the north of Spain. Bilbao had a quiet, low-key feel to it that I found relaxing after our 16-hour party in Salamanca. On Tuesday morning, we took a day-long trip to Gijón, in the province of Asturias.

Large versions of the photos are available here.

Some external views of the Guggenheim.

The breathtaking lobby.

I’m annoyed that “Puppy” is covered in scaffolding.

The beach just outside of Bilbao.