Day 5: Trinidad de Arre to Cizur Menor
Last night Andrew and I decided to make today a short walk. I don’t think I will ever get used to 40C weather, so stopping a bit in Pamplona for early San Fermín festivities and carrying on to Cizur Menor made my spirit soar.
As Trinidad de Arre and Cizur Menor feel like suburbs of Pamplona, you don’t really see much countryside between boundaries. And I love Pamplona. I love the old buildings (largely cleaned up of buckets of red paint thrown over building crests in 2013). Perhaps in preparation for the running of the bulls? I love the energy of the city, especially hyped for their annual bull run.
I don’t want to wax political on the appropriateness or ethics of San Fermín activities. I was caught up in the energy of the place buzzing with excited children, music, artisan exhibits, parades, and dance. We were leaving Pamplona just as the Parade of Giants and Heads lined up. Honestly, it was colourful, fun, and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Google this parade to see why children suffer nightmares later, but can’t resist the spectacle. (I’d upload photos, but WordPress hates me at the moment. However, Andrew has some nice photos on his blog 1millionfootsteps.blogspot.com). But it has a multicultural feel that I loved…obviously!
On our way into Pamplona, Jan-the-Dutch-guy-who’d-walked-97-days-from-Holland-to-Pamplona, called to us from the street. It was his final day in Spain, so we accompanied him to the Pamplona Tourist Office, got our credentials stamped, and went for a final café con leche. Jan also enjoyed a final smoke. But one café con leche turned into another, and Jan enjoyed one more smoke before leaving us across from the cathedral and a line up of giants and heads.
Andrew and I roamed the streets of Pamplona before braving the heat. We arrived in a little oasis-style albergue, with terrace, garden, cooking facilities, great rooms with bunks, and a wonderful group of Irishmen (and women). We talked too loudly until 11:30 pm about U2, dissing Bono, why Irishmen love to slag you as a sign of affection, and ways of saving humanity…as only drunken adults can do. Then we were shushed, the rain fell, the storm raged, and, well, it really was time to go to bed.

Ultreia everyone!

~Penny