For our first time, we have been camping around various parts of Spain for the last five weeks. We are now nearing the end of our travels and are at Haro, the main town of the Rioja wine region, where we are waiting out our last three nights until our return ferry from Bilbao on Thursday evening.
In one respect, the timing of our trip could not have been worse. In addition to seeing more of Spain, one of our goals was to catch up with old friends in Jalón, where we once had a house. However, we had cunningly arranged for our trip dates to overlap almost exactly with one of those friend’s dates for his trip back to Scotland to visit his family.“Bother”, said Pooh, crossly.
There was, though, a chance to salvage the situation. With us having arrived in Haro on 14th, our friend’s return ferry to Spain docked in Bilbao at 08:00 on 15th. Rather than be ships that pass in the night, our pal had booked into a glamping pod on our campsite and we were able to spend an enjoyable day together, before he continued on his homeward journey to Jalón.
The day brightened nicely and, as lunch time approached, we took a casual stroll up the hill into the centre of Haro. I had received a recommendation for a tapas bar in Haro but that, sadly, proved to be closed on Tuesday. Fortunately there was another welcoming looking establishment, Beethoven I, in the same street. (Yes, there is a Beethoven II opposite.) We grabbed a table and I ordered three copas of Rioja to accompany a selection of three tapas: caracoles [snails], garlicky prawns and mushrooms, all in various sauces. These, of course, came with the usual bread and needed second glasses of Rioja to wash them down. At least here, we were experiencing some real Spanish food. Our waitress suggested a plate of cheese to round things off. Good idea.
As usual in Spain, evening restaurant times were relatively late, establishments not opening until 20:30. After eating, we thought that would make us a bit late walking back from town in the dark so decided to buy food to prepare chez Frodo. We called in to a Mercadona supermarket and picked up supplies for yet another Paella since I thought I could manage that for three given our slightly restricted cooking facilities.
Our friend’s glamping pod would not be available until 16:00 so we still had time to call into a bodega. This was another recommendation but happily this one, the bodega of La Rioja Alta, was open. “If we liked Rioja”, I had been recommended to lash out on glasses of Gran Reserva 904. Fortunately, we also had money left so the €15 a glass wasn’t quite as painful as it otherwise might have been. We sat in a beautiful environment of the bodega’s wine bar sipping the 9-year old nectar. Wonderful but, perhaps, not something we should let ourselves get hooked on, which would have been terribly easy.
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