Pamplona, Huesca, and Bayonne (July)

I had mentioned to Alberto that I was interested in going to San Fermines, that is, the fiesta in Pamplona famous for the "running of the bulls" AKA the encierro. They release the bulls in the morning, so that means to see it, you have to either party in Pamplona all night, or what we did: wake up far before the butt crack of dawn and drive into the city filled with partied-out crazies, the very morning after I arrived in Bilbao. If it weren't for Grandma, I couldn't have done it.

When we arrived, there were tons of people who were lined up along the street waiting to see the encierro. As you can see, everyone dresses in white and red, unless, of course your white turns to pink because of a wine fight the night before. Because of all the people, it was nearly impossible to see the angriest bulls at the beginning, but later I saw some milder ones, as well as the aftermath of the former. I was still wearing my boot-cast of course, so we had to take it slow. Spaniards don't use boot casts, so everyone gave me strange looks as if I were "robocop" or something. So many people come to Pamplona for this fiesta that there was no place for them, and many people turned the public areas into their own personal living room, bedroom, and bathroom.

After the encierro, Alberto and I walked around the city, including the plaza de toros (bullring). As the morning went on, the fiesteros (partiers) collapsed where they could, and families populated the streets. There was a parade of people wearing giant costumes, Basque rural sports, and Basque dancing. Pamplona, by the way, is the capital of Navarra, an autonomous region of Spain that is historically Basque, and it's still claimed by Basque nationalists.

There were also a couple of guys making music by beating pieces of wood, called txalaparta. I was impressed:

After getting our fill of Pamplona, we headed toward Jaca, a town in the Pyrenees in the province of Huesca (autonomous community: Aragon). On the way there, we stopped at some cliffs where there used to be a train track, but now there are just places to walk and vultures. We also found a watering hole that Alberto had been to before with other friends.


Finally, we arrived in Jaca and settled into our lodging for the trip. Alberto's friend owns a flat there and lets him stay there whenever. The next morning, we went to Estación Canfranc, a derelict train station near the French border. Click the link for historical information.

There was a slight breeze that caused the old structures to creak, which made the place feel alive. If we'd been there at night, it would have been really creepy.

From Canfranc, we then drove to the nearby ski resort of Candanchú. Of course, there wasn't much action there in the summer, but there were some cool views.

Next, we headed for a monastery. On the way we stopped at a little town called Santa Cruz de la Serós, famous for its First Romanesque churches. We chatted with the church's caretaker for un ratito (a bit), and then we stopped for a drink at this cool fountain.

 

Next, we made our way up a hill by car to get to the Monasterio San Juan de la Peña. We turned some heads because normally you're supposed to park at the bottom and hike up, but my boot-cast gave us an excuse to not make the pilgrimage. Alberto kept reminding me to slow down and not look so capable. The monastery is built into the bottom of a tall cliff. Legend has it that a saint fell from the top, yet God saved his life, so he dedicated the place to Him; the monastery became one of the most important in Aragon in the Middle Ages.

Unfortunately, we didn't get to go inside because it was closed, but I managed to get the shot above left through a barred peephole. From the monastery, we returned to Jaca to relax for the remainder of the day. The next morning, we were back on the road. After driving a couple hours, we stretched our legs at another water hole that Alberto knew about. This one had a view of some ruins of a medieval bridge. Our next stop was the Mallos de Riglos, which are these giant rock formations hovering above a little town.

We strolled around that little town for a while before heading to our principle destination, the Castillo de Loarre, the best-preserved Romanesque fortress in the Europe and a filming site of Kingdom of Heaven.

 

It's not hard to imagine why this site was chosen for the fortress.

 

After exploring the castle, we had a simple but very good lunch (lomo, if I remember correctly) in a nearby town, and then we drove around the capital city of the province, Huesca. Since it was a Sunday, the city seemed deserted.

Then we went back to the Pyrenees, stopping at another ski resort called Panticosa (I chuckled, of course, because it sounds like "pantyhose") where Alberto told me about all the amazing hiking we could have done if I hadn't screwed up my ankle. The following is picture of a nearby view.

Afterwards, we went to the ventas (sales) on the border of Spain and France, where Alberto stocked up on some lemon cookies that he's obsessed with.

And that sums up our second full day in Aragón. The next morning we cleaned up the flat and headed for France, driving through the Pyrenees, and making several stops for photos along the way. We drove and drove until we reached a beach to the north of Bayonne.

This entire suburb was so beach-y. Everyone was wearing swimsuits even if they weren't near the beach, and there were surf shops galore. On top of all that, everything was very French. We looked around for a while to try to find some good deals on clothes. There wasn't much to be found. As the afternoon went on, we headed for Bayonne itself, where we walked around and basked in the utter Frenchness of it all. We also dined on crepes. What else?

About a week before I had been at a creperie in Missouri with Val, and we ordered an orange suzette crepe, so I had to order the same thing here to compare. They were extremely different, though I wouldn't say that one was better than the other. In France, my crepe came with rum en flambe.

Sleepily, we drove all the way back to Bilbao that night, but I don't remember if I ended up at Bryan's house that night or the next day.