Life is beachy keen

"And to think that all along, hidden from our sight, our lives were that small: the world we live in but almost never see, the way we must appear to the hawk and to the gods."
-Alain de Botton, "The Art of Travel," on flying in planes

San Sebastian agrees with me. Well, for the most part it does. My hostel is totally unorganized, i.e. I couldn´t get in yesterday morning for over an hour, then there was no one there later in the day to let me get ot my bags and/or get into my room, then they moved me to one of their hostels in a different building a few blocks down after I had already gone grocery shopping and stocked my stuff in the kitchen. then once in the new hostel they wanted to put me in a 12-bed dorm when I paid for a 3-bed (I ended up paying the same for a 4-bed with a sink that doesn´t work, but I´m not complaining). So there are 3 keys involved in getting to my bed. Two of them didn´t work, and when I told them I was given this response: "Yeah, a lot of the keys don´t work, and there aren´t anymore left so you´ll have to wait until someone checks out tomorrow..." And now, a story to follow up the previous information: I went out to the bars with a bunch of Australians (again -- they are EVERYWHERE), and I wanted to leave before they did, so I found my way back to the hostel, and forgot that my keys don´t work. I´m not sure what time it was but it was late and no one was answering the intercom. So I kicked the door in. There was breakage of neither the door nor my body; I wouldn´t have had the guts to do it if that were to result, but I did Jackie Chan it up a bit. Hey, it worked and I got to go to bed! Now for more hostel-griping ...

When I woke up this morning I got all ready for the beach and walked out of my room to make lunch and eat breakfast from the groceries I bought. However, the kitchen was locked (it´s supposed to open at 10 a.m.). When I asked if I could get in and get to my stuff, the guy working said I couldn´t because his boss had locked it and was a half hour out of town, so they didn´t know when it would be open. What?! Crazy siesta-taking door-locking late-sleeping San Sebastians! So yeah, unorganized, but cool anyways. All was well after I went out and bought coffee, fresh o.j. and a toasted croissant with marmalade. SO good. And then I hit the beach.

Another random small-world story: While at the beach today I heard some girls speaking English next to me so I asked them to watch my stuff while I went in the water (which was probably the most clear and refreshing swim EVER). When I came back, they asked me where I was from and I told them, to which they replied, "Hey, us too!" One had just graduated from CU like me and the other was still in school there. So it seems the only foreigners in Europe are Canadians, Australians and people from Colorado. Interesting. No, in reality they were the first Americans I have met in 2 days, which is a long time when you´re surrounded by backpackers.

Travelling alone has been awesome and lonely at times, but still an excellent way to go if you want to meet new people and force yourself out of the comfort bubble. You just have to, it´s the only way to get what you need, and sometimes it´s intimidating as hell. Travelling alone brings out introspection, inspiration and for better or worse, insecurities. But it also confronts them, which is invaluable, for me at least.

Alrighty, time to jet. Tapas are calling!