Spain is the most racist country I have had the “privilege” of living in

My name is Lorea Solabarrieta. I am a TV and press journalist. I am Basque ( Spanish ), Chinese, Scottish and Persian. I have chosen to live in San Sebastian over the past 8 months. Before that, I wanted to live in Ibiza, but after my car got broken into and I got robbed and then assualted by the police because they thought I was a foreigner trying to get a NIE, when I actually wanted a DNI, I left Ibiza and came to the safety of my Basque family in Ondarroa, to rest, relax and try to decide where to settle next. And I decided on Donosti.

I’m not a Basque nationalist like some in my Basque family – because that is a dangerous way of thinking and I don’t want to make a big deal of why the Basque are supposedly different and better than the Spanish. The Basque like to think they are different, but it has been scientifically proven, that there is no Basque race. In order to say you are a race, your bloodline has to pure. It cannot be proved that Basque are different from Spanish.

I would like to say that I have been a discreet person in the past, who has never chosen to make noise about the things I experience, but after the horrible events that have happened to me in this past year, as I have tried to settle into Spain, not speaking a word of Spanish in the beginning, I have decided to write about why Spain is the most racist country I have ever lived in. You will not believe the things that have happened to me.

I grew up in Hong Kong under British Rule and went to University in England and then worked in London. I have lived in worked in New York, Los Angeles, Singapore, Tokyo and Beijing and I can honestly say, SPAIN IS THE MOST RACIST COUNTRY I HAVE ever had the privilege of living in. I think the problem is that the people don’t actually travel outside of their country – they have a huge cottage industry of Spanish people travelling within Spain but they don’t like to leave their country for holidays and if they do go away, it is to Spanish or English speaking nations. Added to that, there is still this imperialism mentality of Spanish conquistadors who have taken over other countries but if you look at the state of South American nations, they are corrupted and worse off than those nations conquered by the British. And that mentality of imperialism means that they think they can treat foreigners like shit.

Also, Spanish people tend to always travel in groups – I think it’s because they’re actually afraid of being alone because their culture is all about the GROUP – so they have absolutely no idea how to act with foreigners because they actually have no desire to integrate into local cultures.

It is a PITY.

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Why GU is the asshole of San Sebastian

Please write to me at if you want to share your experiences too.

Welcome to my website and I hope you keep checking back, over the next few days, as I post more. I will be writing about the Basque temperament and character, my Basque family, my encounters with the police, the Racism of the Basque and Spanish people and the Government officials, dating Spanish men, my horrible times with estate agents and landlords and the horrible neighbours I have to live next to.

If there is one place in every city, which you could site as having assholes who work the door, and assholes who probably own it ( because your staff, you could say, is actually a reflection of yourself ),for San Sebastian, it would be GU.

Update from last night: On Saturday 13 August, I went to GU at 2am with another friend. The tall, black doorman told us that my friend could enter, but I could not. I told my friend in English to ask him why I was not allowed in. The doorman said I could speak Spanish, and I understood why I could not get in. I asked why again in English, and he responded to me in Spanish and he said to my friend and I that I could speak Spanish and understand everything so he was not going to speak English to me.

Now, I’ve only been living in Spain for 8 months, and I don’t take classes in Spanish because I don’t have time, but I learn my Spanish from day to day interactions. So I’m in the stage of understanding some and being able to communicate a little, but not a lot. So this assumption from him, was ridiculous. It seems that he knew I was of Spanish nationality, because of the police report I filed against GU, and so he assumed that I knew Spanish.

This is a very offending assumption and mistake that most Spanish people make. They also look at you, and if you don’t look Spanish, they will immediately assume you are not.

But he was a black man, so he wasn’t even Spanish. So that made it even more racist in a way, if you know what I’m saying! I honestly cannot believe the close-mindedness of some people and I have experienced these types of assumptions on many occasions, which I will write more about.

So, when we left the door of GU, we walked past the side entrance which was a set of stairs that had the entrance to the sailing club in the middle of the stairs, and the entrance for the bar workers of GU, which was at the top of the stairs. This time, there was a security man standing there. I asked him if he was police and he said he was just security. When we asked him if we were allowed to enter the sailing club, if we had a key card members’ access, to use the toilet, he said NO the sailing club was closed.

Then, GAY ASSHOLE came walking up to us! GAY ASSHOLE is the Club Manager because he has big muscles and a face in a permanent scowl. When I asked him what his name was, so I could share it all with you, he answered DIOS. That means GOD. I asked him for his name once more because I wanted to laugh in his stupid smug face and he answered DIOS. The man honestly thinks he is GOD. You all know that men who think they are GOD have big egos and small dicks. That’s all I’m going to say about him. I also took the liberty of telling him that I was going to write about him and share it all with you – to the whole world actually, and that is exactly where this article will be. I can’t wait to find out the real name of DIOS. If any of you know it, let me know. I mock punched his face and I could see the look of fear in his beady eyes. Because before the police report I made, he had no idea I’m actually Basque and that I live in San Sebastian, and that is something he should be very, very scared about. I would kill him but I’m too nice to do that, but I will shame him.

Before the incident yesterday, I went to GU in June 2016, with some friends and I I have never had trouble getting in the door. Actually, there is never an issue when you live in San Sebastian year round. However, this time, they didn’t let us in saying that it was full inside.

I needed to use a toilet, and I saw someone enter the Sailing Club which shares the same building as GU but is on the ground floor. I saw someone enter the Sailing Club via an access card, which is for members because I have friends who are members there, and so I climbed the stairs halfway, that run alongside the club and waited at the entrance until the member came out. It was clear to me they had also gone in to use the toilet, because it was 1am at night and the club was closed.

Then, one barmen from GU who was obviously bored or frustrated and was looking to entertain himself, walked down the stairs from the top, towards me. The top of the stairs was the direct entrance to the bar area of Gu which I had no intention to enter, and he asked me to leave. I explained that I needed the toilet and was waiting for the person inside the sailing club to ask if I could use it.

He said, THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY, to which I replied, WELL, THIS IS THE SAILING CLUB ENTRANCE SO IT’S NOT JUST YOUR PROPERTY. And he didn’t like hearing that, and saw that I was Asian and probably thought he could bully me, so he decided to exert what little power he had, to make himself feel good, and asked a colleague to join him in order to bully me to exit the stairs.

To this day, I have no idea why I could not just stand on the stairs because I doubt those stairs belong to GU. According to the Sailing Club, they rent the space above to GU on the weekends, but the whole building actually belongs to the Sailing Club and because those stairs do not have a door, my immediate thinking is that those stairs are PUBLIC. Maybe someone can clear this up for me?

After a minute of me saying NO, the GAY ASSHOLE who waxes his hair back. He had a scowl on his face……none of these men even tried being friendly to me, and it wasn’t even a busy night. There was no line at the door, which is the status of GU 10 months of every year because it’s not super busy…….these guys think they are running a club in New York or London, but they just chose to be dickheads that night. Like every small town country boy who wants to believe he is a city slicker.

The GAY ASSHOLE asked me to leave immediately, without even asking me or his staff WHY I was there, and when I said NO he called the police straight away.

What was I doing wrong by standing on PUBLIC stairs?

The police arrived within 1 minute which lead me to think they were being bribed by the club to keep close by. How else can you explain how fast they turned up?

My friend Steve came to my rescue straightaway and I was crying my eyes out because I could not believe how ridiculous the situation was. When the police asked me to go to the police station, I asked them what I was being accused of, and they had no answer for me. They told me that I was trying to get into the club without paying, which is the most ridiculous thing because I can pay and that was a story that GAY ASSHOLE had decided to tell them to excuse the fact that he had done something wrong. Steve told the police that they had no idea what they were talking about and just chose to believe the GAY ASSHOLE, without asking me what the situation was. The police were also aggressive with me and kept touching me to get me to stop crying, and threatened to arrest me. Steve and I told them that in America, the police are not allowed to violate my personal space, which they were doing. Even though we are in Spain, some of the laws and rules and the way the police behave remind me of a Communist and Corrupt society.


In the end, the police left and we went home. But it was a horrible and disheartening experience and definitely put a damper on our night.

Afterwards, I asked Steve why the other 2 friends did not come to the rescue like he did, and he said that Sid said he was Black ( is this comment a sick joke or another serious fact that Basque people are racist to blacks too? But Sid has been living in San Sebastian for 10 years!? With his wife Diana – so making a comment like that, actually insulted me.) And lo and behold, the other acquaintance with us that night was Jewish, so there was nothing surprising in him opting out of coming to my rescue ( read my earlier comment on Jews ).

I feel sad that people run when they see the police because the fact is, the police HAVE NO POWER IN SPAIN.

Moving forward, about a month later, in July, I went to GU in the evening and this time, I was let in paying 15 euros entrance which included 1 drink. My Irish friend Owen had to go home to change his shoes, and I had taken a girl he liked with us along in the group. After Owen didn’t come for an hour, I went down the GU stairs to check on him. They let him in, but at the bottom of the stairs, MR. GAY ASSHOLE seized my tanqueray tonic, wrenching it out of my hand aggressively. He was trying to make me drop the drink and I held onto it tightly. The drink was full. He twisted my wrist and then put the drink on the bar outside and told me to get out of the club, because I was a prostitute! What an ASSHOLE.

The guy is insane. I think he must be permanently on cocaine. Owen came up to me, he had just been let inside, and told them that I had just tried to find him. They wouldn’t let me back in. I asked for my 15 euros back and they refused and I told them to call the police. They did, and when the police arrived, they made the same mistake again from a month ago, just listening to the bouncers and GAY ASSHOLE and refusing to listen to me.

When I decided to file a report, I filled it in and they then handed it to the GAY ASSHOLE. The GAY ASSHOLE had written that they were refusing me entry to the club. Which was a lie because I had already been let inside the club. Despite me telling the police again and again that this was the fact, they police decided that I had never been inside the club. RIDICULOUS. I wrote that they took my 15 euros and couldn’t offer me a service that I paid for, and I wanted my money back…..and also an apology that I had been called a prostitute.

All my friends were inside the club and even Owen had left me before the police arrived, because he was more concerned about fucking a stranger, than a friend who had spent summer driving him around to fiestas in Ordizia and Bayonne because he didn’t have a car. None of the friends inside bothered to call me to see if I was OK.

That’s true friendship for you, isn’t it?

In any case, I plan to finish my report on the GAY ASSHOLE AND GU and I hope to see them in court. ASSHOLES SHOULD DIE, in my humble opinion. I hope you go ahead and tell the GAY ASSHOLE about this article I wrote about him.

Why San Sebastian, the European Cultural Capital, is actually the European Racist Capital

Hello Everyone

Write to me at if you want to share your experiences too.

You will love reading all the drama that unfolds! And the best thing? It’s all true. Over the past year, I have had insights into the Basque character and I can’t wait to share it all with you. If I don’t write this, I would be doing a huge disservice to society.

So before you go ahead and wax lyrical about all things wonderful about your 3 day holiday in San Sebastian, take a moment to consider those foreigners who try to settle for life, in this part of the world, and the horrible things they have to endure. Life is NOT a holiday. It is REALITY.


1. They will very rarely say SORRY, even though they have definitely been wrong. They will find a way to excuse their mistake and even put the blame on you.
2. They all say, A LITTLE BIT, when you ask them if they speak English. Then, when you are struggling to make yourself understood with your pidgin Spanish, they show that they are actually very fluent in English.
3. They only speak English in the summer when there is a sudden influx of tourists into the city of San Sebastian. The rest of the year, they refuse to speak Spanish to you and tell you repeatedly, that you need to learn it. And that you need to learn Basque as well. WELL, WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM TRYING TO DO BY LIVING HERE? Learn the language of course, idiot. Don’t tell me to learn it 100 times. They then say, that you are living in Spain and you must learn it. Well how about me saying that Chinese is the second most spoken language after English and YOU need to learn it.
4. They intend to stay homogenous. That means they are not interested in learning about you, or other cultures or to welcome you into their home. As long as you live in the Basque country, you must live in the BASQUE WAY. San Sebastian before the summer, to me, was like the most alienating place on this earth that I have ever lived in. And that’s saying a lot from someone who has traveled to over 50 countries and lived in 5.
5. They think Basque Culture is the center of the World. In actual fact, it is only the Center of the Basque Region. The country is actually SPAIN.
6. They think San Sebastian is the food capital of the world. But have you been to Asia and specifically Hong Kong? Asian cooking techniques are second to none. Don’t be too quick to puff your chest up when you haven’t experienced anything outside of your 5 mile radius comfort zone.
7. They are racist. And openly so. They like to think and say they are not, but they ARE. Like the Jews, if there was a Chinese and a Basque person in a boat, they would drown the Chinese person, so the Basque would survive.
8. They are cheap. I don’t like people who are cheap, no matter how much money you have. So, if you are cheap to me, I will be cheap to you.
9. And finally, they think everyone who is a non-basque is a criminal. This stereo typing means they will always keep you at arm’s length because they don’t have an open mind from the get go.

My name is Lorea Solabarrieta. I am a former television anchor for News and Business News and a presenter for Travel and Luxury television, working for some of the biggest TV networks in Asia. That’s why what I have to say, is not a joke.

After a 2 year hiatus writing, I have decided to return to my journalistic roots and write about the horrible treatment I have received while trying to settle into the Basque Region ( or Country, as the Basque nationalists like to believe ), Ibiza and my hometown of Ondarroa of Spain, over the past year.

I am Basque, Chinese, Scottish and Persian. This means that nothing I can say in these writings can be called Racist, because I am actually Basque. I can already see some Basque people reading this and labelling me as a Basque hater, but it’s not true. Only people like me, who care, will write about the things that need to change, in order to make the world, and Basque Society, a better place. I am not here to suck up like a sycophant about how amazing Spain and the Basque people are….I am here to tell the truth.

My father, who was Half-Basque and Half-Chinese died when I was 7. I grew up in Hong Kong and am fluent in English, Chinese and 5 years of French. I never learnt Spanish and I am now learning and living it in San Sebastian. After my father died, my mother took me on average, every 2 years to my hometown of Ondarroa on the Basque Coast, because she was was determined that I would not forget my Basque roots.

As a former television anchor and presenter, what I am about to type is the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But I’m not going to finish it properly by saying, SO HELP ME GOD, because despite the fact that there are countless churches in Spain, nobody local actually goes in to pray in them, unless you are over 50, which I find tragic and hypocritical at the same time. But being hypocritical is actually the Basque and Spanish way…and even though the Basques like to think they are better and more reliable than the Spanish, my experience in San Sebastian over the past 10 months has shown me that they would rather lie to you than to tell you the truth ( which in most cases, is that they don’t know the answer to your question but they hate to admit it) and this is what makes them a really frustrating group of people to get to know, or to TRUST or to LIKE. As one of my friends said, after the police gave us wrong information – which they always do – how can you ever trust the police when they mislead you? Well, that’s the Police in San Sebastian, a group of amateurs who are not trained well, and lacking in consistency…..who try to exercise their power by bossing you around, all the while giving you wrong information. It’s enough to drive anyone insane.

And that is why what I say will shock you, because you will see how the Basques can actually be racist to their own kind. I have endured months of racism directed towards me. I look Asian but my physicality is European. But here, they just think I am Chinese. It’s actually an improvement from 20 years ago when they all thought I was Japanese and pulled slitty eye faces at me. I heard from my friend who teaches English to school-kids in Oiartzun, that the children still pull the same faces in class when they see a Chinese character in their text books, and they are surprised when the book shows the Chinese or more specifically, an Asian person, being an astronaut or anything else than a shop owner, because the majority of Chinese in this country own shops that sell all kinds of junk. It makes me sad. Spain is like, the biggest garbage dump for anything made in China. And unfortunately, when you have a country of uneducated and untravelled people, they are going to typecast every Chinese person as if they should belong in a shop.

They say you can’t fault ignorance in someone, but what if people are given education but actually never want to leave the Basque town/village/city they grew up in? Unfortunately for the Basque, they don’t tend to adventure far from their home comforts – which basically means living 10 metres away from their family their entire life and still having mum cook and wash their laundry until they are 35 to 40 and no-one wants to marry them anymore. I will write about my dating horrors with Basque men, in a few days time!

So if you don’t get married, or even if you do, the Basques have the QUADRILLA, a group of only boys or only girls that they grow up in, their whole life….and never leave. The quadrilla is a strange phenomenon and only exists in the Basque Country, which I like to liken to a pack of wolves… stay faithful to your quadrilla your whole life, but you change who your best friend is within the group, over the years. It might seem like a beautiful thing to some, but imagine these scenarios…..first of all, nobody in your quadrilla is actually like you at all, so you don’t get to choose who is in your quadrilla…it makes absolutely no sense to me how a group of people with absolutely nothing in common can continue to just eat,drink and party together weekend after weekend thier whole lives and never grow bored or out of it……and secondly, I’ve witnessed that if one of the girls or boys is unhappy with their spouse, rather than deal with the marital problems together, both parties run back to their quadrillas and drink and party or maybe take a trip to Cuba which is Spanish people’s Heaven for Prostitution, in order to forget their marital woes.

What is sad that is, as I grow older, I see how close minded, alienating to other cultures and superficial to non Basques, these people can be, and it makes me dislike them more and more. However, there are EXCEPTIONS. When I see kindness and understanding and patience and most of all, GENTLENESS in a Basque which is a very, very Asian trait that I grew up with in Hong Kong and is severely lacking in the Basque culture….. I want to cry and hug them……but of course, the Basque would never accept that very public display of affection, so I don’t.

So, please continue reading my updates over the next few weeks as I bring you along to all the trials and errors and bad misfortune that happen to me in the Basque Region – past, present and future.

Actors as Politicians? No way. That’s why I vote Clinton

America is losing its mind if Trump wins the Presidency. Trump is nothing more than a media tool, designed to attract a new and younger audience to watch the Elections on television. It certainly worked for me. He might seem like a potential front runner now, but everything he says is calculated for effect on television. He is not qualified to be the next President but he’s very talented at using the media to champion his cause. The best thing he said was that he would build a wall to keep the Mexicans out, but when he followed that by saying Mexico would pay for it, which Americans loved, I can assure you, Mexico will not pay.

Clinton is the only one fit for President of the United States. Why would anyone pass up an opportunity not to vote for 1) a female president 2) the FIRST American, female President 3) a supporter of Obama and 4) a mother?

All of these factors already show that she will be able to lead America towards a better future than any of her male predecessors.

I am horrified that young, black women in America are not supporting her and instead, choose to support Bernie Sanders. What are you thinking? Do you really think a Jewish-American Filmmaker is qualified to be President? The running of TV icon, Trump, and documentarian, Sanders, reminds me of the elections of Reagan as President and Schwarzenegger as Governor of California.

America sure has a strange way of wanting their TV, film and movie icons to be placed in positions of power. What is the correlation between being an actor and being able to run a country? Do you trust them more because they have more media presence? Is this where the power of the ‘household name’ comes into effect? Why does someone whose a household name suddenly become more ‘trustworthy’ than a relative unknown?

Americans seem to think power on the Big Screen translates to honesty in the White House. But, Actors are by nature, very imaginative liars. They do it for a living. They’re playing a role when they’re acting, so they’ll play their role as Politician. They’ll say anything to get your vote. If you vote for them, you’re believing in nothing more than an Actor. Would you trust your life and your country – to an actor?

Sanders is old and his health, questionable – he looks like he’ll die of a heart attack if he wins Presidency, or he’ll die whilst in the White House. I’m not sure his frail body can take the 4 years of pressure that the Presidency comes with. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for an artist and documentarian winning, because artists tend to have big hearts, and Documentarians are very perceptive on social issues – but why would you want a Jewish President? He’s only going to support the war and facilitate more weapons of mass destruction funded with Jewish American money, in Syria.

You know that if a TV star, an actor, or a film maker makes it as the next US President, then they’re only going to play their role from a script handed to them from higher powers in the White House. The way Nancy Reagan ( may she rest in peace ) helped the higher powers in the White House to puppet her husband Ronald Reagan in his term as President. You see, she was just better at memorising his script.

You need a President who can make their OWN decisions.

They say – “Behind every successful Man stands an even more successful Woman.” Now is the chance for Hilary Clinton, to leave the shadow of her husband.

That’s why, hands down, Clinton gets my vote. Because there is NO other option. Let’s be honest. It’s the Woman’s Turn.

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Reflections sprinkled with Burning Man Dust……up, up, but not away

Freedom Lab was at The Burn. Through daily dust storms on the Playa – the playground where art is built and burnt, music is made and played and no-one really sleeps for too long. Behind and around the seat of our loved-up LED Art Car made from slashed tyres and scrap-metal iron………high as a kite, sober as a racehorse, fire-breathing to the extreme. The Playa always beckons and seduces us to forget what we are really there for. Lose track of time, why not.

Don’t make any plans. They won’t be kept. Our video camera lenses were loved, caressed and wind-battered with this super-fine dust that covers and sweeps the Playa and stays on your skin, wreaks havoc in your hair and burns your costumes, forever. It infiltrates like a silent lover who won’t go away – nooks, crannies, every surface it can find – and fucks with your camera equipment. It follows you back home in your suitcase and under your nails. You can never really get rid of it. That’s the beauty of love and Playa dust. It’s like blood in your veins.

Black Rock City, The third biggest city in Nevada, if only for a week each year. The second biggest LED light show in the world, after Hong Kong’s harbour. It’s what we call home.

But the reality is, some people are just out of control in this harsh but loving environment. Learn how to control your vices before coming. Leave your ego at the gate. Practice the art of gifting when you can. Give more than you take. And don’t disturb our inner peace or ‘fuck with someone else’s Burn.’ You have no control over the situation or anyone else, so embrace it. Thank You very much.

Some walked across the desert in bare feet. They could crack. But, you were warned. The Playa is a dried-up lake, a spiritual place for Native Americans and a former nuclear testing ground. Like drinking alcohol and forgetting to drink water AKA gold, there are some things you just shouldn’t do. Rocking up, only on the weekend when the man burns, is another. Pay respect to the Playa. Live with her hostility. Try to arrive earlier and leave later than others. One cannot do a spiritual journey in 2 days. If that’s all you can give, you are not ready.

This year, The Burn was big. They said 60,000. It felt more like a village. Same faces, everywhere. Even if you started off your journey in Hong Kong, Tel Aviv, Germany, England, New York, L.A, San Francisco, Detroit, Seattle, Washington or Reno….we all ended up here. In ‘tiny’ Open Circle, on clockface-coordinates between 2pm and 10pm where the city is built – and everything in-between and farther than the eye could see out into the Deeeeeeeeeeep Playa, surrounded by a fence that didn’t really keep us from the ‘Big Beyond.’

And there, just when we were about to give up walking far away from the bright lights and the mostly head-pounding, migraine-causing music behind us, we stumbled across the lone box-cinema showing our childhood black and white movies. Here, sitting patiently, waiting for you to find her……. in the black of the night with her one, forlorn neon sign. Soooo quiet. She beckoned us to enter, if only to take a break from reality – from the flashing LED and pounding music mayhem outside – or to fall asleep in her comforting arms….. being fed candy and anything else, from anyone who felt like giving some.

It wasn’t like we made any plans to hang out with anyone. Something deeply serendipitous told us, that we would bump into those most important beings in this Pilgrimage of Life. And true to form, there they were. Your friends in need, your friends indeed. No surprises. All the way from across the world, you were just going to bump into whoever was meant to bump into you. Like only those lucky souls who were ever meant to make it to the surface of the moon and potentially live there, sharing those little moments together before saying goodbye again. You knew it was your calling.

Our friends from Hong Kong and New York who made it out this year…. what a big group it was. We shared our time, love, laughter and creativity between Robot Heart music and the DisOrient camp, DJ’s Damian Lazarus and Lee Burridge, only g.o.d.’s themselves, if anyone in music should deserve such a title. And, as we all watched the sunset and rise to celebrate a new day dawn, we didn’t want this all to end. This – the way the world should be. For only 7 days a year. Or 12 to 14 days – if you were one of the lucky ones to help set up and dismantle the fictional city. This homage which shows, that we may build art, cars, homes, tents, music, buildings and monuments. But when it all burns in the end, we are left with nothing. Nothing is meant to last forever. Treasure LOVE and LIFE, while it lasts.

Tango ( into the next year ) Xxx

Ps Check out the sunrise video on the Robot Heart bus below…….

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Our Tribute to Burning Man 2012

Freedom Lab Television spent 10 days in Black Rock City, Nevada, covering the Burning Man Festival, a ritualistic annual gathering of 60,000 revelers and anarchists who celebrate the beauty of radical Self-Expression, Freedom, Music and Art.

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