Asteburua da denok!!!! (It’s the weekend, everyone!!!). We had a very relaxing and independent day today. Here is what our Spanish Saturday looked like:
Remember that gorgeous theater where we watched the tango performance? Well, we went back—this time for the behind-the-scenes tour and a crash course in its dramatic history. And I mean dramatic. This theater has truly seen it all. It survived a fire in 1919 that left just a shell behind, which was eventually sold to the Spanish government. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, the infamous 1983 flood filled it up to the second-story windows.
After that aquatic disaster, the theater was lovingly renovated to restore its historical beauty—with one major upgrade: electricity. Yes, this was the first building in Bilbao to get electricity. Not a hospital. Not a government building. A theater. Priorities, people. Honestly, at this point, the place is only a windstorm and a small earthquake away from completing its bingo card of natural disasters and personally offending Mother Nature. But we only wish for the safety and preservation of such a beautiful Basque landmark.
During our tour, we learned that although the theater has over 2,000 seats, only a portion of them are actually sold—because, get this, most of the seats can’t even see the stage. Imagine saving up for a ticket, dressing to the nines, sitting down… and realizing your grand view is of a wall or a support column. A true Shakespearean tragedy.
We also got to see the widow’s box, a small, hidden balcony tucked beside the stage. This was reserved for women whose husbands were theater members and had passed away. Sounds fancy, right? Not so much. Picture this: a pitch-black corner with no seats, a terrible view that misses 45% of the stage, and—best of all—front-row access to backstage chaos. Nothing says healing like watching actors sprint on and off stage from the shadows. Meanwhile, men who were widowed could sit wherever they pleased. How thoughtful.
After the theater, we wandered through some local shops in search of memorable mementos. My favorite stop? A charming local chocolate shop, where I picked up biscuits and chocolates shaped like the iconic Bilbao tile pattern—something you can only find here. I also grabbed some local cheese and, of course, an orange Fanta. But not just any orange Fanta—the European kind, which actually looks like it came from an orange and not from a radioactive soda plant. Truly a refreshing (and slightly less concerning) beverage experience.
After wandering around some shops, we decided to walk what felt like a partial marathon—45 minutes—for some Pinsas (think pizza, but oval-shaped and made with fancier dough). I’m not usually a big pizza fan, but I have to admit, this one was worth the trek. Especially when we sat down, and the waiter immediately handed us English menus. Apparently, I give off strong tourist energy—maybe it’s the wide-eyed awe or the subtle “please help me” aura.
Our last adventure was to go back up the mountain to see the city overlook with the sunset. It was absolutely beautiful, and I am so glad we took the time to see such an amazing view! Tomorrow will be quite picturesque as we will travel to San Sebastian. Agur lagunok!!! (Bye guys!!!! -Basque).