Zarautz

This place needs a proper introduction onto the world stage. It’s like a magic land, a perfect place. I never thought such a place existed on Earth. It's a family town, with a flare for fun if you will. Trust me, I hung out here in the summer of 1996 and partied. Trust me on that one.

In reality, it's a lovely place. There doesn't seem to be any problem with anyone, or anything here, except of course to mind the amount of time your car is parked on the street, because they will issue you a ticket if the amount of time you've already paid for expires. This was something I didn't take into consideration before coming here, because why should I?

I, of course, don't even own a car on this continent. We are, however, extremely fortunate to have a friend lend us one who had an extra. A Volkswagon Golf. A quick turn down the road, a the ‘Autovía del Cantábrico’ was there to wisk us in any direction. We visited Santander, a city I would have never otherwise visited if we didn't have a vehicle at our disposal. Since we did have one, we decided it was the perfect place.

But Zarautz, a place of barely 60,000 in the peak summer months, is a gem amongst the endless places one can visit in this lifetime. The beach is clean, and the sand feels nice between your toes. The whole place feels like a beach town, without the annoying Cancun style partying. You have no choice but to surrender yourself to the easy life of going to the beach, refreshing yourself with a dip in the Bay os Biscay, and catching up with old friends.

Zarautz is legendary indeed.

Keep the faith.

PS- We did end up receiving a ticket for expired parking fees. It was the nicest little piece of paper folded and tucked neatly into a clear plastic envelope that you ever saw. I barely recognized what it was when we were about to pull out.