Thought about going for a run this morning. Mercifully it was last night that I had the thought. I managed to forget all about it until midway through a good rustic breakfast, by which time it was too late. Oh well. Worse things happen at sea. Instead, we headed off across the mountains to Vitoria.
A great drive. We ignored the artery and followed the tiny capillaries instead. A bit precarious in places, but worth every moment. You could have wept for the scenery in places. It was like something out of Lord of the Rings; or like the cover of a Yes or Led Zeppelin album. Soaring peaks, wooded hillsides, monuments silhouetted in the distance, snakey roads visible down through the deep valleys and up the other side again, birds of prey hovering overhead, and hundreds of wild drivers, trying to force bloody foreign drivers like me off the road.
Vitoria’s looks like yet another great Basque city. Is there no end to them?
The hotel, the Dato, is gloriously kitsch. It fancies itself as a monument to Art Nouveau, and the rooms and landings are full of zany period sculptures and decoration. Huge mirrors and stained glass everywhere. 
And all for about £25 per day, per room. Thurs 27 Nov 2003 Spain has a lot of runners. I thought that this morning, when I should have been thinking about going for a run. Really, I’ve seen hundreds of people jogging round the place. It’s nearly two weeks since the Brighton 10K, and I seem to have entered an involuntary retirement. Bugger it, I’m recharging my batteries before the serious stuff begins.
Vitoria’s a stunning place. Everyone should visit this region at least once in their lives, and shouldn’t miss its capital, Vitoria. Do as we did: spend a day just sloping round the ancient part of the city, goggling at 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th century churches and schools and fortifications. Old Europe at its best.
I’ve spent more time than I wanted to on this trip thinking about George W Bush and his cronies, and how badly they’ve affected my life. When Rumsfeld spoke contemptuously about "Old Europe" in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, I thought, yeah, that sums up your myopic, egocentric, insensitivity in one simple phrase. It displayed everything that’s wrong about their vision, and their understanding of the world around them. Bush antagonised London for four days last week, for no other reason than his own ego, and he’s already hunting down new photo-opportunities as election year approaches. On tonight’s TV news I see that he’s flown all the way to Iraq just to be photographed wearing a flak jacket and holding, with hilarious appropriateness, a large turkey. An hour or so later, when the photographers had done their stuff, he clambered back up the steps of the plane and went home again.
Today is our last full day in Spain, and we’re enjoying it. After our sight-seeing day and a trip to the modern art museum, where I decided to spend most of the time sitting in the café, reading, writing and absorbing good quality Rioja, we treated ourselves to a good meal out this evening, and more good wine. Then back to the hotel room where I plan to watch a rerun of the Inter Milan-Arsenal match, and polish off a half bottle of something decent.
Tomorrow we go home. I won’t think about running at all in the morning. Which is just as well.
It’s been a great trip.
