Spain > Wandering through the neighborhoods of Bilbao

When I wake up in the morning, I see people walking past outside with umbrellas. It’s raining! When I check the weather forecast on my phone, the prediction for today doesn’t look good. A drizzle all day long. With my umbrella up, I leave the hotel. I walk in the direction of the mercado, where I expect to find a nice place for breakfast. The mercado is a modern building with three floors. The vegetable, fish, and meat stalls look neat and well kept. But there’s no food service in between them. Luckily, across the street there’s a pleasant little restaurant. I follow the local custom and order a cup of coffee. I also point to a sandwich on the counter. After breakfast, I visit the Iglesia Catedral de Santiago, the centerpiece of the old district. The Santiago Cathedral, with its impressive central nave and fifteen chapels, is an important stop along the route to Santiago de Compostela. When I’m about to leave, an old woman points toward the side entrance. From her gestures, I understand that I should take a look at the 16th-century side portal. Definitely worth it. Across the Ría River lies the station. Its façade is particularly impressive in Jugendstil style. I exit on the other side and walk to the Iglesia del Sagrado Corazón. Construction workers are busy renovating this church from 1890. The church is covered in scaffolding, and when I look through the open door, I see even more scaffolding inside. The nearby Iglesia San Francisco de Asís is open.

Spain - The station of Bilbao

I admire the relatively simple interior and beautiful stained-glass windows. I hurry to reach the Toros bullring before siesta. When I arrive, everything seems closed. I decide to ring the bell to ask if the museum is open. Of course it is!—and the door opens. Moments later, I’m standing inside the bullring. By chance, I spot a small sign for the museum pointing to the second tier beneath the stands. I open the glass entrance door of the still-dark museum. A motion sensor switches on the lights. I look at the costumes of gladiators, announcements from across the years, and a life-size stuffed bull. I also see memorials to the gladiators who died here. I think the arena is still in use, but not as frequently as in the past. Walking back toward Gran Vía, I pass the Alhóndiga on my left. From the outside it looks like a characteristic old wine warehouse, but inside it’s a modern center with a library, cinema, and restaurants.

Spain - The Torros bullring is still in use

On the top floor there is even a swimming pool. From below, I can see the people swimming. I order a drink and let this remarkable building sink in. Back outside, the drizzle has turned into a heavy rain shower. The rain gives the city a gloomy atmosphere. Everyone tries to squeeze past each other with umbrellas. I step into a department store to stay dry for a while and wander through the different floors. Back outside, the rain is less heavy, but it’s still not dry. I stroll back to Plaza Nueva and order a beer and some tapas in one of the cafés on the square. Today the square looks rather empty. When I head into the city again in the evening, it is still raining. On the bright side, it is still the same first downpour of the day. I refuse to let it stop me and walk toward the San Vicente Iglesia. The church has a strikingly beautiful gilded back wall behind the altar spanning the full width. Opposite the two identical glass towers stands the Palacio de Ibaigane, now home to the Athletic Bilbao football club. I descend the steps between the towers to the Isozaki Atea footbridge.

Spain - Eating tapas and drinking a beer in one of the small cafes

Many joggers brave the rain and run along the boulevard. The Guggenheim Museum looks a bit forlorn in the rain. In the dusk, the giant Maman spider sculpture reflects on the wet tiles. I try to take a good photo in the limited light while keeping my camera dry at the same time—a tricky task. The lighting of the museum itself strikes me as somewhat disappointing. For dinner, I opt for a tapas crawl. I order my first pintxo sandwich in a bar near the museum, pointing at the one I want on the counter. I repeat this in two more cafés on the way back to my hotel.