I found an amazing restaurant overseas, but I won’t go back

Bar Nestor was always popular. There would always be a crowd.

This Old Town restaurant was legendary in San Sebastian. Its owners, Tito and Nestor, had spent decades patiently building a reputation among locals in a town from which they – two guys from Valladolid – were not.

San Sebastian’s Old Town.Credit: Alamy

But Bar Nestor always did three things very well: padron peppers, seared in a hot pan, sprinkled with sea salt; tomatoes, red or green depending on the season, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt; and txuleta, a whopping slab of beef, fire-grilled and served almost blue-rare on a sizzling plate.

They did a tortilla too, but only one at lunchtime and one at dinner.

And so Bar Nestor would always be busy. You’d push your way in there, under the signed jerseys of Basque cyclists and football players and chefs framed on the wall, and yell your order across the bar. “Los tres” was always the way to go – the three.

You’d scan the small room and spy people finishing up their meals, knowing you could grab one of the few tables before your food came out from the kitchen. And then you’d eat your three dishes, you’d guzzle some cheap Rioja, you’d wave “agur” to Tito and Nestor and be on your way.

Bar Nestor isn’t like that any more. You can’t just walk in and wedge yourself into a spot at the bar. There’s a queue out the front, every day and night, its length varying with the season.

Sometimes people wait half an hour, sometimes an hour, sometimes two or three hours. They turn up well before opening time to get their name on the list for a slice of that one tortilla, and then stand around for hours to wait for it.

They capture these experiences on their phones of course, and post them on social media, because what’s the point of visiting one of the darlings of Insta and TikTok – an eatery that has gone viral many times – if you’re not going to stake your own claim.

Bar Nestor was always popular – but then it got really, really popular. People started posting it on social media (and yes, I’m one of those people), and it kicked off. It went from being “a” place to go in San Sebastian, to being “the” place to go in San Sebastian.

Hence, the queues. Hence, the fact I haven’t been back in five or six years – I don’t want to line up for hours for something I used to just walk in for.

This is just one example of something that is happening all over the world right now. Those little secrets don’t stay secret for long.

You could have a favourite little restaurant (at home or abroad), a place you call into all the time, somewhere family-run, friendly. And then one day you will arrive and there will be a huge queue out the front. It will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and next week and maybe next year.

Your little secret has gone viral.

An influencer I follow, who has a very large social media account – almost a million followers – posted recently about a tiny local restaurant in Greece, on the island of Folegandros. It’s a modest place, run by an elderly couple who don’t have a menu, barely even a kitchen. They just make beautiful Greek food each day, and serve it to whomever comes in.

This influencer gushed about how perfect it was, how charming. But people commented: Why are you telling everyone about this? The place will be overrun. It will never be the restaurant that you found ever again.

There’s a question we all have to ask ourselves as travellers now. This used to be something only a certain few would have to ponder, travel writers, celebrities, those with a following. But now everyone has to think: should I reveal my secrets?

It’s not just restaurants either, it’s viewpoints, natural phenomena, cultural attractions, entire towns, cities or even countries.

You discover them and you want to share them. You’re excited about them. And yes, there’s some ego at play here – look at what I found. Look at how amazing it is.

There’s an urge to shout it from the rooftops, to tell the world. You might have only a modest following on social media of family and friends, but these things can go viral quickly, they can reach the world.

And what happens then? It can be good or bad, or both. It can save a struggling business. It can bring tourism dollars to a part of the world that desperately needs it. Or, it can bring hordes of people to a place that was only ever good because it didn’t have hordes of people, because it was charming, because it was quiet.

I think about this all the time, but you should too. What is the effect of calling attention to a venue, a business, an attraction, a place? Will it benefit or will it be harmed? Will the extra attention be welcome, or will it destroy the very thing you’re trying to spread the word about?

That influencer who posted about the Greek restaurant has since deleted his post. It’s far too late, however, for Bar Nestor.