"There's nothing to see here," said my friend, Aitor, over a café con leche in Zumarraga.  Needless to say, I didn't believe him.

Needless to say, I was right. We crossed the river, the only distinguishable border between Zumárraga and Urretxu, and went on into the main square. 

It was Saturday morning, and the square was bustling, stalls filled with everything from gominolas (candy, also known as txutxes and golosinas), to clothing, to books, to buttons, and of course, FOOD.

Huge bags of beans, wheels of fresh cheese stinking up the place (i mean that as a compliment), huge squash, ugly tomatoes (another compliment), greens with dirt still clinging to the roots, homemade preserves, red and green peppers, potatoes, carrots, everything.