Where to even begin with San Sebastián (and its doppelganger, Donastia)?

A recent trip highlights just what a multi-faceted Spanish city this is – even in name – and whilst more youthful visitors may enjoy exploring independently, our own small group were lucky enough to include a guided tour  – affording us a seemingly unique and rarely experienced gastronomic insight – served up alongside a more regular pinxtos tour – by bike!

Pinxtos! Kaiko! Eskerrik asko! Donastia’s location on the almost extreme east of Spain’s northern coast plonks it firmly in the midst of Basque territory – a unique geopolitical region and autonomous community since 1979. As such, the city’s first language is Basque, a language-isolate in that it’s not demonstrably related to any other known linguistic family. In glorious touristic ignorance of which we spend our few days repetitively bleating out ‘Gracias’ to absolutely everyone we encounter, little realising what arses we were making of ourselves – as we proudly displayed the true limits of our European lingual dexterity.

It’s no wonder we never grasped the lingo, however, as the use of ‘x’ and ‘tx’ – along with many other deviations from our ingrained colonial norms – left us incapable of mastering these hushing sibilants, sounded as ‘sh’ and ‘ch’ respectively. Thus we are grateful that our tour-guide, Borja Torres (about whom more later) spoke perfect English, tinged (when pressed) with just a touch of Scouse derived from his wife Penny, a native of Liverpool, we are told.

But before Borja’s tour is launched and lauded, worrabout the rest of it, eh? Well, our boutique hotel – the Sansebay – enjoyed an excellent location a little off the main bidegorria and clearly enjoyed almost the best sunset views of La Concha bay. On arrival, we had to run a gauntlet of cheery folks all quaffing sun-downers on a narrow, elevated walkway atop what’s left of the mediaeval City wall. A nearby cavernous bar – the Akerbletz – was lubricating this popular pastime, so we dumped our bags and joined the throng to enjoy beers and the sun setting over Mount Igeldo.

As any tourist guide will attest, one of the City’s great attractions is the Old Town, adjacent to our hotel and a simply navigable maze of narrow vehicle-free streets, brimful with bars, restaurants and shops – balanced with belle epoch historical buildings including the Basilica of Santa María del Coro. Here, way above upturned eyes and craned necks a proud statue of San Sebastián himself seemingly clings to the façade, pierced with arrows as testament to his demise as a Christian martyr at the hands of Roman Emperor Carinus circa 285 CE.

We walk the streets. And feast! So many bars serving pinxtos (Ok, Ok, tapas by any other name) which are often eaten standing at small pavement tables – and we manage a fair few on our own – with appropriately extensive servings of wines, of course, realising as we did so that the traditional siesta has absolutely nothing to do with the tiring heat of the Spanish afternoon sun. We also search for a previously visited Knumptywaggeners’ favourite using old photos of its interior as clues to rediscover Aralar Taberna as well as the endangered habitat of a premium tobacconist’s emporium (31 de Agosto) also of considerable remembered repute.

But the extent and depth of our experiences were considerably enhanced when Borja came to call. A founding member of tour company “Experience San Sebastián” Borja Torres met us at our Hotel and walked us back through the old town to the market area where he enjoined us to mount a posse of sturdy e-bikes. Although we were expecting a tasting tour of various pinxtos, our first destination proved the most fascinating as it introduced a little-known aspect of Donostia’s culinary scene – the private Gastronomic Societies, of which potentially 150 exist within the City.

An unassuming door set into a crease between two modern apartment blocks at the far end of Zurriola Hondartza Cove (and over the Urumea river) in the ‘new’ end of town gave access into an unpopulated, simply-furnished café style restaurant interior, justified by a professionally equipped catering kitchen at one end. This, explained Borja, was his Gastronomic Society’s private dining club, where members would arrange to meet for lunch or dinner, either with other members or their families and friends. The cooking would be done by two or three of the diners who supplied the raw ingredients  (often freshly caught fish, with basics generally available in the society kitchen larder). After eating, any costs – which include use of the facility, kitchen equipment and any consumables from the larder – are shared between the diners. The family-friendly, trust-based atmosphere – we are told, with a wry smile – can also often instigate card games or singing after a meal.

Given that much of general living in Donastia is apartment-based with limited space to entertain and socialise, these neighbourhood-based societies also provide meeting space and cultural activities – particularly for the troupes of amateur Tamborrada drummers who parade annually from Plaza de la Constitución through the streets to celebrate and honour San Sebastián Day on January 20th.

Once back on the road, our cavalcade returned through bustling traffic across the river bridge to the old town, to re-stable our trusty e-bikes and to begin our own gastronomic tour – thankfully this time on foot. We visited four pinxtos restaurants, each of which was mid-afternoon-busy (mainly with locals, it seemed) and enjoyed an inspiring selection of Basque finger-foods, soups, fresh tomato salads and baked cheesecake beyond any of our expectations or experience. Wine was also imbibed, introducing us to a few noted favourites for future selection as we wended our own gastronomic route back towards our Hotel for a justifiable siesta – and another Akerbletz-fuelled spectacular sunset.

For further insight, here’s the link to Borja’s site . . .https://www.facebook.com/experiencesansebastian

Finally, as a mildly entertaining footnote, enjoy the following ‘overheard’ via WhatsApp amongst our group: “ I owe Nicci for sardines and Claire owes me for make-up”. 

Job done.