Pamplona--No Bull

Aaaaahhhh, now this is why I came. I spent an entire day exploring the city. I fed my penchant for history by visiting the Museo de Navarra and touring the city´s old northeastern fortifications (against French incursion) and its centralcitadell (built in 1666 in the "modern" style like a pentagle) which today is a beautiful park. I visited three churches ranging from the medieval to the cathedral, the porch of which was only just finished around 1700 (practically new!). For my literary self, I followed the footsteps of Hemingway. I went to the Plaza del Castillo where he loved to sit. His hotel, the Gran Hotel, was undergoing renovation, but the Waldorf bar is just next door. I ordered a wine and toasted to his memory thus:

I sat in a chair warmed by the afternoon sun. The day was bright, but the breeze was cool. I ordered a light red wine with water. The water came with little cubes of ice clinking against the glass. I mixed the wine with a little water. It was sweet and fine. Old men strolled quietly by, phantoms of the past. Two chipeddlededaled frantically on small bicycles. One older girl, too old to play, was turning round and round a nearby lamp post. There were no bulls.

How´s that for my Hemingway imitation? Anyway, I walked from the Plaza del Castillo to the Plaza del Toros and had my picture made beside the street named for the guy. There´s a huge bronze bust of Hemingway near where the bulls are run down the ramp into the ring. To say that Pamplona is beautiful doesn´t even approach the grand vistas of the foothills that surround the city of 200,000. The city is wonderfully provincial; that is, unlike London, there isn´t a McDonalds, a Pizza Hut, or a Burger King in sight. Each little cafe carries its own menu. I had lunch off the Plaza de Vinculo where a corner cafe offered three choices for "tapas." I took the one that had turkey--what I received were two little buns piled with potato salad, lettuce, a slice of turkey, and a sliced, boiled egg--sooo tasty! It was served with a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Just before two o´clook, I stopped for a chocolate treat in a pastry shop. At two sharp, all the little shops roll their gates down and don´t reopen until four (or 4:15). Pamplona is a lovely city with gardens and plazas and just the right mix of bustle, charm, and relaxation.

This morning, I´m on my way Puente la Reina, 24 kilometers away. I hate to leave Pamplona, but the Camino calls.