Day 19 - 20 Kilometres

Zubiri to Pamplona

The landscape has changed colour. Up until now we were in the cool greens and blues of the Pyrranees. Now that we are in the rainshadow of the mountains (weather systems get stuck and drop all their rain or snow on one side of the mountain, while the other side is very dry - the dry part is the rainshadow), the landscape is gold wheatfields, red poppies, and black evergreens. In general, it is a much warmer pallette, and much dustier walking.

In our walks we pass through many Baroque, Mediaval, even Roman towns. By the time we reached Pamplona, we were thinking that it was an exceptionally pretty town, but nothing more. We nearly walked straight through it, except that my guidebook had mentioned that Pamplona was a walled city, and we had indeed passed through a wall (with a pretty impressive gate and drawbridge to boot!), and there were posters for San Fermin (the festival with the running of the bulls) everywhere.

Pamplona was founded by the Roman general Pompey. It has been leveled and rebuilt multiple times since, though some of the original walls, and the base of the bridge into the city are still Roman. The very impressive gate in said walls is from the 15th Century and features a working drawbridge.

During most of the year, Pamplona is a quiet, mostly medieval (crooded roads, really old buildings) Spanish town. But, for three weeks in July, it is the home of The Festival of San Fermin.

The bulls only run in the evenings from July 6-13, But for the week before and for week after, the city is full of bustle and excitement. While we were there, there was live music, dancing, and singing in the streets. Bars spilled out onto the sidewalk, and pretty much everyone had bottles of beer or wine in hand. One of the best music groups was actually a group of Basque separatists playing percussion intstruments and stomping their way down the street. They played just down the alley from where (I´m guessing a military) band was performing in the town square. It never got mean or ugly though. Everyone, no matter what their politics, creed, or brew seemed to embrace the festival atmosphere and celebrate in the summer night.

This is my third time in Spain, and I have never been to the same place twice, but every time I am here, it reminds me why it is one of my favorite countries. Perhaps being an expat is in my future...