Astelehena da!!! (It’s Monday-Basque). Here is what today looked like. The beginning is going to be a lot more informational, so be prepared. Let’s dive in:
We started our day by visiting the Basque Engineering School to tour a few of their research labs. The first lab we explored showcased the work of Dr. Herrero and Dr. Diez, who are developing more dynamic technology to detect and analyze gait patterns using a balance-assessment device. Their goal is to accurately track a person’s center of mass during movement.
Ruben, a PhD student currently writing his thesis at the school, explained the process. To predict the center of mass, you either have to calculate the mass distribution of each limb and body segment, or use about 16 sensors along with a special suit. The catch? These sensors don’t work well over body hair. Fortunately for me, that’s not an issue—but let’s just say, some folks may have a problem to solve.
They also received various pieces of medical equipment from the Basque health system to help conduct research in environments that closely resemble real hospitals and clinics. This allows engineers to better understand the layout, spacing, and practical design considerations of healthcare settings. One of the biggest challenges for engineers—especially biomedical engineers—is bridging the gap between a device’s technical functionality and its real-world usability.
Dr. Diez emphasized that patients often won’t use certain devices if they don’t look clean, user-friendly, or aesthetically pleasing. While seeing gears for an engineer can spark excitement, when a patient sees the gears and wires, they think it is less refined and dangerous. He also pointed out that the most straightforward solution—like adding higher rails to hospital beds or physically restraining patients—might be effective from a safety standpoint, but it can also be emotionally and psychologically harmful. That’s why it’s essential to gather feedback not just from doctors and nurses, but also from patients and caregivers, to ensure that a device doesn’t just work, but actually helps.
Then we headed over to see the new prototype of the two-plate dynamic balance machine that Dr. Diez and Dr. Herrero are developing. This device can perform the same programs as the original single-plate machine, but with an added bonus—it can now record the force exerted by each foot individually. On top of having a more specialized force-sensor map, the two plates simulate natural walking patterns to help assess how a patient shifts their center of mass as they walk.
This machine is designed to support individuals relearning how to walk with a proper gait, especially after a stroke or balance-impairing illness. It creates a safe and controlled environment that focuses more on balance than strength. One of the biggest challenges for these patients is the side-to-side shifting of their center of mass during walking—something that seems simple for healthy individuals but becomes a major hurdle in recovery.
Dr. Diez explained that while the prototype shows promise, it still has some kinks. They’re working on designing better protection for the gears and mechanical arms in case a patient falls. They’re also developing a way to adjust the step length for patients of varying heights. Oh, and let’s not forget the occasional programming bug—like the one time the left plate decided to have a little dance party of its own and just started shaking.
As we walked to the next lab, I chatted with Dr. Diez about how weight distribution affects the readings. When we walk, our center of mass shifts as one leg supports the body and the other swings forward—it’s basically controlled falling, as Ruben put it. These subtle shifts can be tricky for the sensors, sometimes mistaking natural motion for imbalances. Dr. Diez noted that even a slight adjustment in how a foot is placed can show up as a lateral force, which might be misinterpreted as instability. The solution? Collect data from a large pool of healthy individuals to establish a strong baseline for comparison. That way, when analyzing data from someone in recovery, they’ll have a realistic margin of error to work with. There is still a lot to improve, and a long process to get permission to clinical test, but they are making great strides toward a device that can improve the rehabilitation process as a whole.
After seeing Saioa and Mikel’s lab, we headed to another robotics lab focused on developing flexible robots that can be programmed for more efficient assembly line processes. We saw two types: one that operates in 3D space and another optimized for 2D work. Following that, we toured their machine workshop, which housed an impressive collection of saws, drills, and lasers.
Okay, quick rant—if you’re an engineer or have ever stepped foot in an engineering building, have you also noticed how horribly engineered most of them are? You have entire departments dedicated to civil and structural engineering, yet somehow, practical design is completely forgotten. I used to think this was just a U.S. thing, but apparently, it’s a global affliction—because the same thing happens here in Spain too.
The original architect of this building thought it was a good idea to put multi-ton machines on the third floor. I don’t know what part of their brain thought, “Yes, this makes sense,” but I guess aesthetics were prioritized over physics. Thankfully, the person responsible for actually installing the machines managed to convince the school to relocate them to the basement.
Now, let me paint you a picture of this basement: no doors larger than a small car garage, and one tiny skylight that looks like it was inspired by the game Operation—except in this version, hitting the sides doesn’t give you a buzz, it just costs thousands in equipment damage. Dr. Diez told us that, to install or remove a machine, they once had to lift it four stories into the air and drop it down through this skylight—all because of an artistic design choice on the building’s exterior.
Oh, and the skylight? It’s sealed now. So to get machines in or out, they have to pull off full-on Mission Impossible-style operations, maneuvering massive devices through narrow spaces under the cover of darkness. Sometimes, I really wish architects had to use the spaces they design—just once—so they could witness the chaos their “art” creates.
After our tour of the school, we visited the famous hanging bridge in Bilbao—officially known as the Vizcaya Bridge. It’s the only bridge of its kind in the world that operates 24/7. Designed to transport cargo and people across the river without disrupting ship traffic, this engineering marvel stands 63 meters tall and stretches around 200 feet. The gondola moves back and forth on an automated system and can carry nearly 40 tons of weight. Over the years, there have been two previous gondolas—one was replaced, and the other was bombed during the Spanish Civil War and dropped into the river.
We took an elevator to the top and walked across the bridge. It’s a bit nerve-racking when you can see straight down to the water, feel the bridge sway ever so slightly, and get blasted by strong gusts of wind. Trust was the real MVP during that walk. A lot of trust.
And then, on our way back, we did something… weirdly wonderful. One of my friends is obsessed with the unique tile design of Bilbao—the kind you see all over the sidewalks. These tiles are distinctive to the region, but when construction happens, they get ripped up and ground down for reuse. Naturally, we did the most logical thing and asked a construction worker if we could have one. And he said yes.
So my friend walked through the streets of Bilbao holding an actual piece of the city. We took it all the way into the metro, and the look on the police officer’s face was absolute gold. Confusion. Shock. Probably a little admiration. But hey, now she has the most authentic souvenir imaginable—part of Bilbao itself.
I know that was a bit long-winded, so if you made it this far—thanks for sticking with me! Tomorrow we’re off to a new destination, so stay tuned for a change in scenery (and probably more questionable decisions). Gero arte, ikusiko zaitut! (Catch you later! – in Basque)
