My new boyfriend

This time, we coincided with the Santo Tomas feria in Bilbao, so we decided to go check it out. It takes place 2 days before Christmas, sort of like a pre-Christmas practice party. It's basically an outside fair and food market that takes place by the ria Nervion downtown Bilbao. Obligatory aldeano outfits are worn by children and adults alike, there is folk music and live roosters. Also, lots and lots of pork.

It takes place in the Plaza Nueva in the middle of husband's home-city. We get out of the metro in the old part of town. People are everywhere; they're donning green kerchiefs and are obviously inebriated (it's 11am), so we know we're close. He doesn't say anything, but as we seem to be wandering about rather aimlessly, I ask him where we are. Flushing and mumbling, he admits he completely forgot where the plaza is. He's Bilbaino! That's like forgetting where Times Square is to him. Asking for directions?? Are you fucking crazy? So we never found the central action, and stopped off at a satellite plaza. According to him, though it's all the same.

They sell Basque gastronomic specialties from local farmers. You can imagine. Pig products are aplenty, so you know I'm going to love it. Also pastel Vasco, which is sort of like a Bavarian cream filled pie, various cheeses. Some folks are square dancing. The atmosphere is jovial and love is in the air. Occasionally, I also detect the familiar scent of reefer. Everyone snacks outside, bringing platters of aromatic goodies out to the park benches, and splashing drinks all over.

The typical thing to eat while enjoying the outside is Talo y Chorizo. Talo is a fluffier version of cornmeal tortilla, and chorizo is a tasty fat little sausage. To drink: either cider, poured from above your head into a tiny cup (better have great aim), or txicoli, a Basque white wine. My husband made a face. I guess txicoli is low class.

Talo:

To get to the crux of the matter. The highlight is, to the soothing sounds of accordeon music playing some sort of mountain polka, I made out with a pig. Figuratively speaking, of course.

and kissed its feet afterwards. Like a metaphor of real life.

These pics took effort! I didn't wanna look like an idiot, because despite how authentic this little market was, there was not a single American or other tourist there aside from me. And the natives would just be like, who the hell wants a picture with a pig's head? (me) So I had to dissimulate: oh, I'm just standing here, la ti da.... While husband quickly, quickly organized a spontaneous photo of me and my new boyfriend.