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Bilbao is a place of many things.
It is a place of beautiful views,
from labyrinthine parks like this,
in which I have spent hours reading and eating and soaking up the sun,
to the countless bridges over the Nervión river
that is the heart of the city,
and next to which I have walked in search of adventure.
It is a place of incredible art, as the great Guggenheim museum testifies,
which is more brilliant than all the modern art it contains.
The crazy sculptures,
from the puppy made of flowers
to the tower of silver balls in which I could see myself,
created an atmosphere like a mysterious playground.
It is like Bilbao in that way.
It's a pleasure, although you don't understand much of what is happening.
It is a place of passion, tradition, and innovation at the same time.
This occurred to me when I visited San Mamés, the great "cathedral" of Bilbao,
where Athletic Club Bilbao, a soccer team in the Spanish premier league, plays.
The stadium is a hundred years old, and because of this they are constructing a new stadium next to the original, which will be destroyed next year.
It is sad to lose such history, and I understand how important a stadium is.
For me it is like RFK Stadium in DC, where DC United plays: it's a dirty, broken hole-in-the-wall, but it's ours.
I understand Bilbao in this way.
It is a place of surprises.
Surprises like seeing John Adams in the center of the city.
Surprises like listening to Tina Turner on Gran Via.
Surprises like old men in berets with their hearts on their sleeves singing in Plaza Nueva.
It is a place of noise and excitement, but in the same way as a night out with friends rather than a chaotic protest.
...
It is a religious place.
Of course I knew that Spain is Catholic in culture and in history,
but it is a different thing to see it happening.
But it is a broken Catholicism, to be honest.
Their cemeteries are vandalized, and nobody visits them.
Their palms are products, often for tourists.
Their churches are beautiful, but more or less empty.
But there is one thing that isn't even a little broken:
the craziness of Holy Week, with all the processions and confused tourists that I had hoped for.
Bilbao is a place of many things.
(In Basque: Goodbye, Bilbao. Thank you.)