Dateline: Bilbao

I could have used two days in Bilbao, and I would have happily spent one of them without budging from our room in the Silken Gran Hotel Domine. We had a view of the Guggenheim from every part of the sleek, simply appointed room, including from the enormous bathtub. Between the beckoning bathtub and the amazing view, I didn't want to shut my eyes. I slept like Lazarus nevertheless.

We ordered coffee and hot chocolate as soon as we got up, and I spent at least a couple of hours just staring out the window. The strong coffee arrived with a pitcher of warm milk, for DIY cafe con leche. I blended it with the thick, rich, bittersweet chocolate, and gazed out the window. I could barely tear myself away from the view to write my morning pages.

Some of the lines of the titanium-sheathed roofscape mimic the curves in the roads swooping around the hills beyond the museum.





An outcropping of the facade is my favorite color, a shade of cobalt I call "Egyptian laundry detergent blue." Workers -- are they curators or gardeners? -- were reflowering Jeff Koons' terrier.









The museum interior has vaulting, arching shapes, catwalks and stairways and ramps that brought to mind Wright's Guggenheim in New York.








I was more interested in the architecture than in the collections, but I was attracted to the Serras as never before. Entering the curving, embracing structures was like riding a horse into a canyon, not sure what you're going to find inside, a feeling of anticipation with a touch of wariness. The colors of the metal were amazing. There was a lot to see in the discolorations and striations, whole stories told by huge pieces of dull steel.

But what did we eat? The guidebooks, which we considered totally off the mark as to what there is to see and do in Bilbao, all strongly recommended the museum cafe. The pasta salad we had there was not just the worst meal we had in Spain, it was the worst meal we've had in memory: Several pieces of pasta, ham, cheese and eggs decorating a bowl of slimy greens. Two of us shared the salad and didn't come close to finishing it. Gross.


After we checked into our hotel the night before, we wandered around downtown and went to a couple of tapas places that I enjoyed very much: cheese, olives, tortilla Espanola, bread, pintxos (tasty combinations on toothpicks such as anchovies or sardines with olives, tiny onions, mild chilis and the like). Tapas meals are like what I call a "sneaker dinner": you drop in somewhere, have a drink and something to eat, chat, walk down the street and do it again. Repeat as desired.

We finished our visit to Bilbao with a couple of bocadillos at the absolutely gorgeous Calatrava-designed airport. They were very good. Thin slices of savory jamon serrano and manchego cheese on a light but crusty roll. I could eat that every day. Wait, I did.