The drive out to Pamplona was stunning.  After having spent so much time in the very, very flat Netherlands, it is really incredible to drive through mountain scenery. The hills were so verdant and around every curve a new Mountain was poking up from the Earth. You really can’t fault the Basque country on it’s beauty. However, you can fault it on is it’s ability to create car sickness.Driving around all those corners… I have to admit I felt a little bit queasy…

Pamplona sits in a mountain plateau in a significant rain shadow. As such, the weather that was cold and misty when we left Bilbao was warm and sunny when we arrived in Pamplona. I was surprised that the roads were so quiet. Somehow I expected there would be tons of people trying to push their way into town… back ups for miles, but that wasn’t the case. I had underestimated the size of Pamplona… I figured it was a fairly small town, but it’s actually a fairly large, industrial city. The center is beautiful and I think Pamplona would be worth a visit even outside of San Fermin festival time.

After a bit of driving around  we found a parking place right next to a beautiful park. People were everywhere wearing all white with the red neck scarves and red belt/sashes. It became quite clear that the festival was in full swing as we walked towards town to meet up with our friends, Hannah and Alice. People were everywhere and their white clothes had become stained and ripped in what appeared to be red wine fights. There were quite a few people passed out on this street  and quite a few naked people running around as well. All this, and it was only 5 in the afternoon!

We met Alice and Hannah in the center of town near the St. Cecelia Fountain. As is the Aussie tradition, people were busy diving off the top of the fountain into the arms of their waiting friends. Garbage was everywhere – discarded glass bottles were just as common as plastic cups! Every few seconds someone would strike up a conversation with us… in one of about 10 languages.

We decided to head out and find something to eat a but we got caught up in the processional to celebrate the opening of the Festival. Music was blaring and the crowds were singing in Spanish. Followed by enthusiastic chants of “San Fermin! San Fermin! San Fermin!”  Locals on the balconies above the procession were responding to the calls for, “Auga!! Auga!!” by tossing large buckets of water onto the crowds. We literally could not push our way out of the crowd so we had to settle for being swept up in the procession and just wait to see where it would take us.

After dinner the real partying started. We enjoyed some Sangria and then some more, and still some more. In addition to all the street parties there were events happening all over town. Jazz in the park, fireworks in the city, and concerts a plenty! We found an incredible concert in one of the plazas and danced the night away with what felt like thousands of other people! The band was actually really good. Mark had to ward off the copious number of French men hitting on Hannah and Alice… but all in all we had a great night! After a difficult night’s sleep, (All 4 of us crammed into our rental car – What a blessing that we got a free upgrade!!) we got up and headed out for the Running of the Bulls! As hard as we tried to push our way to the front of the fence to see the run, we really couldn’t see much over the crowds of people and when the rockets all went off, it was literally no more than 2 minutes before it was all over. Somehow, I expected that the crowds would cheer, there would be screaming… or something!? But, basically all I saw through my small crack yielding a tiny view was big streaks of red and white and one or two occasional streaks of Brown passing by.  That was it. We were a bit disappointed.

When it was all over, we climbed the fence out on to the bull run route and chatted with a few of the runners! It was so interesting to listen to their stories!!!  You could tell that the adrenaline was seriously pumping for these guys! And, most of them weren’t afraid to say that they never planned to do it ever again!!  Some had great stories about getting close to the bulls while others mentioned that they just pressed themselves as close to the wall as possible hoping that the bulls would just run right down the center.  If we ever head to Pamplona again for the festival of San Fermin, although I would be scared out of my wits, It would be a requirement to run in just one Encierro...