With the remaining garlic-covered octopus tentacle between my teeth, I knocked back the final millilitres of Paxaran before indicating to the waiter that I needed the bill. There is always something so impressive about Spanish hospitality staff and their ability to do three things at once, but even so, the typical Basque industriousness was visible in every movement he made. 10.40€ lighter, I bid the patrons farewell and continued my walk Las Llanas, taking care to find some good photo opportunities as I went. Green and black flags hanging outside two bars on the main road indicated the opportunity to get another drink before kick-off, and in no time I found an open door to what I thought was the club shop.

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