So I've been painting a very sunny, glorious picture of San Sebastian, and I'm not going to divert from that for very long. Raf and I are totally smitten with this little seaside city and the way it's held us in its sway. However, this picture illustrates the "reality" of San Sebastian; meaning, it's not always sparkly and warm.
On our walk toward the Aquarium yesterday, we diverted from the sign pointing toward the Aquarium because it looked like we'd be able to get there on the short jetty around the harbor. Naturally, we came to this dead-end, a long drop down into the water with no guard rails. So, okay, we looped back around and strolled the shops in the old fishing village leading up to the Aquarium. The kids became cranky so we stopped at a stand to buy some Powerade (yes, they sell it!) and Coca-Cola Light (Europe's answer to Diet Coke, a little more intensely flavored than the American version). The American accent of the girl who served us was so familiar that I asked where she was from.
"L.A.," she said, explaining that she'd chosen to come to San Sebastian five years earlier, lured by something she'd read on the Internet, and then she had met someone and ended up staying. She was from the Valley, like us, such a coincidence.
As she smiled and appreciated our appreciation for the fact that we are from the same corner of this vast Earth, she seemed to read our thoughts, saying, "I was sort of misled by San Sebastian. Turns out, it rains 300 days a year. If you're looking for someplace sunny to live, this is not it."
Pity. We may not have left.