Land That I Love

Because how can you not love a land as beautiful as this??

I dedicate this post to: Pais Vasco (Basque Country)

I met up with the family at JFK on Friday afternoon and we flew overnight to Madrid. Upon landing in Madrid we rented a car and headed right up to Pais Vasco. (If there are still some of you out there that I have not yet educated about the difference between Spain and Pais Vasco, come find me and we’ll have a little chat and until then you can check this out.  

Anyway, after landing we made the 4-hour plus drive up north and stopped over in San Sebastian (a BEATUIFUL beach city that borders Southern France). I never served there because it is so expensive to rent an apartment there that the Church has only ever had elders there for as long as I have ever heard about so that they wouldn’t have to rent 2 pisos, but it is beautiful and was every sisters dream to visit.

And of course I had to introduce the family to Spanish tortilla

After visiting San Sebastian, we headed back down to Bilbao and arrived just in time to check in to our hotel/apartment where we were staying (I had forgotten that Spain has such crazy hours—that only the 24-hour/day services are the bars, restaurants and discotecas).

The next morning we woke up and went to church in Bilbao. It was so great to be back in that ward. I think that it will always feel like a second home ward to me. (And yes it is now a WARD which happened in September of 2010 and everyone is still pretty excited about it).
 

Me with Gilda and Patricia in 2011

 Gilda, Patricia, Hna. Carroll, Edid (Gilda's neice and Patricia's cousin) and Me (Hna. Thornton) in 2008

And after church and a quick bit for lunch (you better believe that the “quick bite” involved some DELICIOUS Spanish bread.  I swear I would be happy eating a sandwich for every meal of the day if it could be on their bread here) we went for a leisurely stroll around Bilbao.

 Mom and I in front of the Guggenheim

 I don’t know why brothers aren’t ever allowed to more than barely touch each other in pictures,

but apparently that's the way these boys roll.

 I don’t know when I became the “little” sister, but apparently it has happened as you can see in this picture and by the fact that I have had the” back middle seat with my feet on the hump”  reserved solely for me for the past 6 years or so now I think.

 showing Sean that I can still be the older/bigger sister when I need to be

 pointing to our old apartment from the park we used to run in every morning

 We ended our walk through Bilbao at Hermana Nieves’ house for a late Spanish dinner. 

She was the Relief Society President while I was serving in Bilbao and my Bilbao Mom if you will.

I love this woman.

After a fun run along the river Monday morning, we went for a hike to this old cathedral that is out on a little almost island/outlet. La Capilla de San Juan de Gaztelugatxe.

 Even though their faces don’t show it, Sean and Ceej are happy to be there I swear

a picture of the church at the top and so that you know that we did actually bring Dad with us—he is just usually BEHIND the camera 

 The view from up top

 The stairs and little land that connect it to the mainland

 The inside of the chapel

 are you sufficiently jealous yet??

And we made a quick stop through Guernica/Gernika on our way back into Bilbao. The real Picaso of this is in the Prado in Madrid (Franco's old backyard. . . .hmmmm. . . that hasn't ever really made a lot of sense to me, but whatevs)

Then we had a lovely “tapas bar” lunch with President (now Bishop) Gonzalez and his wife Zuleima. They are both wonderful and were always a lot of help with the missionary work in Bilbao.

And then finished off the night with churros and chocolate a Spanish favorite—especially necessary in the cold winter, but also a wonderful addition to just about any day of the year.

It was kind of heartbreaking to leave Tuesday morning, but I know that I won’t ever be able to stay away for too long. The country is just too beautiful and its people just too good that upon entering Pais Vasco you cannot leave without a piece of you also being left behind as well and you’ve got to come back to feel completely whole again.

But until then Pais Vasco—AGUR!