A San Fermin Pedimos...

The last several days have been pretty busy as we finished up in Madrid, headed out to San Sebastian, and then made our way to Pamplona for the San Fermin Festival.  But first, the end of Madrid.  For our last full day we went to an aviation museum on an airbase on the outskirts of the city.  It was a little interesting getting there because its sort of in the middle of nowhere and the guard at the entrance to the air base carried out a few security checks before letting us in, including taking our passport information down.  The museum itself was completely worth the trouble, though.  They had a pretty nice collection of vintage airplanes, many of which were relevant to Spanish history, but for me the best part was their collection of vintage airplane engines.  I'm a bit of a WWII nerd and a gearhead at the same time, so seeing all those old piston engines was a real treat.  They had everything from Rolls Royce Merlins to Diamler Benzs and even a Pratt and Whitney Twin Wasp.  There was a nice collection of modern fighter planes outside as well.  After the museum, we rested up and recuperated from the 90*+ heat of the day and then headed out to enjoy our last night in Madrid at a shisha bar, which was very relaxing.

On Monday we took the 8 hour train ride to San Sebastian, on the north coast of Spain in Basque country.  After navigating the streets to our hostel (most of the street signs are in Basque, a language loosely, if at all, related to Spanish, so that was interesting), we caught a few rays on the beach.  At night we walked around the harbor area, which was really gorgeous, especially at sunset, and then had dinner and a couple of beers (Darryl had a Budweiser in honor of it being the 4th of July, I stuck with one of my favorites from Munich).  Tuesday morning we headed out to the beach for a few hours, took a break by walking around town and shopping for a bit, and then went back to the beach in the evening.  At night we took a quick pinxtos crawl, and I encountered my first Spanish tortilla.  I have to say, I'm generally not a fan of omelets unless they include bacon or some sort of meat, but the tortillas with potatoes are damn good.  On Wednesday we walked around the harbor a little more, killed some time in some cafes, and caught our train to Pamplona.

Darry put it best in describing Pamplona during the San Fermin festival - one giant frat basement.  Many of the streets of the old section of town are full of wasted people, plastic cups and bottles, and sloshed sangria.  Everyone in town is also dressed in the traditional San Fermin costume - all white with a red bandanna around the neck and a red sash tied around the waist.  It's pretty neat to see everyone in town dressed the same, and even neater to take part in it.  After settling in to our room about 10 minutes out of town, we decided to go and walk up and down the course of the encierro (bull run) to familiarize ourselves with it.  We've been planning to run with the bulls at San Fermin since the inception of our trip, and therefore we had done quite a bit of research about it.  All the websites and accounts of it say to definitely familiarize yourself with the course before you run, and trust me, it really helps.  After walking the course we caught a really awesome fireworks show over the citadel in the old town and then made our way back to the hotel to rest up for this mornings events.  As tempting as it was to get involved in the street parties, we knew that being well rested and completely sober were also very important for running with the bulls.

This morning we got up at 5:40 and caught a bus into the downtown area. We made our way to the plaza near the start point of the bull run and waited behind a police cordon along with hundreds of other people until about 7:55, 5 minutes before the run started.  At that point the police let us out, and we were allowed to pick a spot on the course to wait for the bulls.  Contrary to popular belief, most people do not run the entire half mile of the course - the bulls can run it very quickly, and it's impossible to keep up with them for the whole time.  We picked a relatively straight, flat area that's generally recommended for first timers.  In the rush to get to our spots, Darryl and I got separated (and both of us were separated from a Dutch fellow that we were chilling with while we were waiting for the police to let us onto the course).  I picked a little doorway on the side of the street and heard a faint chant of "A San Fermín pedimos, por ser nuestro patrón, nos guíe en el encierro dándonos su bendición" (We ask San Fermín, being our patron saint, to guide us in the bull run and give us his blessing).  This verse is chanted by the runners who are standing under the statue of San Fermin, the patron saint of Pamplona, at the very beginning of the course 5, 3, and 1 minute before the run.  I heard the one at 7:59, and moments later I heard the first rocket fire, signaling that the door to the bull pen had been opened and the first of bulls and oxen were hitting the streets.  I watched from my doorway as people ran down the street leisurely way ahead of the bulls. Then a second rocket went off, indicating that all of the bulls and oxen had left the pen and were barreling down the street.  As the bulls approached, the crowd watching from the balconies began to cheer and people were sprinting down the street.  I caught a flash of a black and white bull about 3 blocks away from me and I took off, dodging people falling and slipping on the wet cobblestones as we all jetted down the street.  I took a quick peek behind me and saw that the pack of bulls was about 10 feet back (I had only been running for about 10 seconds but they caught up that quickly), with 2 or 3 people between me and them.  I decided it was time to bail out, spotted another narrow doorway, and pressed myself up against the door as the heard went past.  Shortly after they passed I found Darryl and we ran further up the street towards the bull ring (the end point of the run, which has a dangerous 90* right turn onto a ramp and then a very dangerous bottleneck at the doorway into the ring) when we found out that one of the bulls was still loose nearby on the street.  We took a quick look around, ran to the side, and let it pass by about 30 seconds later.  After some more confusion, we learned that there was yet another bull that had become separated from the pack and was running up the street, but we had no idea where it was.  We decided to make a break for the arena because the bottleneck in the doorway had temporarily cleared up.  Seconds after we made it inside the last bull came barreling through the door, and we hopped over the fence of the ring to watch the drunken idiots that stayed in the ring try to slap the bulls with newspapers (at least 7 of them got gored in the process).  Sorry I don't have pictures of the actual bull run - I didn't want to chance bringing my camera with me.

Right now were resting up, then we're gonna hit the streets and celebrate in proper style...

Viva la France and a Sweltering Hot Madrid

We’re finished with our time in Paris, and it definitely has been a different experience from what we had in Germany, or from Belgium and Holland, for that matter.  People seem to be very expressive and up-front here, as opposed to in Germany which may or may not be a good thing.  Some people come off as downright rude, while it’s actually entertaining to watch other people go about their daily lives because of the amount of emotion that you can see them express doing every day things, like catching a bus or dealing with a faulty subway ticket machine.  I guess that could be part of why the café culture is so prevalent and embraced here.

We took the train in from Düsseldorf last Saturday which took up a significant portion of our day.  At night we found a nifty little neighborhood Chinese restaurant where we have been able to eat relatively cheaply (much to the dismay of our stomachs). We took a quick visit to the Eiffel tower and enjoyed some French wine in the shadow of one the city’s iconic buildings on the Champ de Mars, along with about 10,000 other people.   Sunday we went to the Notre Dame cathedral, which definitely lived up to my expectations.  It’s a big beautiful church with gorgeous stained glass windows and massive vaulted ceilings.  Best of all, in spite of the throngs of people waiting to take a look around inside, the line was no more than 15 minutes long – it moves quite quickly.  For lunch we indulged in something we’ve seen in a few places in Europe, but none done as well as we had here in Paris – a greasy hamburger with a fried egg on top, with a side of even greasier fries (again, much to the dismay of our stomachs).  I was really skeptical when we first ran into this dish in Amsterdam, and when I tried it there I liked it, but it didn’t blow me away.  When we had it here, it was a totally different story.  The egg and the burger were perfectly done and the whole thing, simple as could be, was excellent.  I’m actually probably going to try and cook this one on my own when we get back to the States.  This is a great example of what I was talking about before – the Parisians seem to care so much about everything they do, including their food, that you can tell that great care was taken in frying the burger and the egg to make a great dish.  Anyhow, enough with that.  The rest of the day we spent looking through some clothing stores (some relatively cheap, actually) and going through the Luxembourg Gardens, which were gorgeous.  We ate dinner at a local Italian place with great food but god awful service. 

Monday we got up early (!!!) to beat the crowds and climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower.  680 stairs later, on the 2^nd platform, we found out that the only way to the top was via elevator.  It was a little disappointing because we were hoping to climb the whole thing by the stairs, but the views from the top were certainly worth the ride and lived up to the hype.  After coming back down, we dropped by the Arc de Triumph, and then had lunch on the Champ de Elise.  We then made our way to the Louvre, where we were again very lucky to wait only about 20 minutes before getting in.  We focused mostly on the works by Greek, Roman, and French sculptors housed in the museum, and of course took a quick look at the Renaissance art wing including the Mona Lisa.  To be honest, while I of course respect the history and significance of the work, there are other paintings which are far more aesthetically pleasing to me.  I think it’s mostly that I just don’t have much of a taste for Renaissance art in general.  Maybe one day I’ll come back and appreciate it more. 

We also went to the Paris catacombs.  The chambers under the streets of Paris are filled with the exhumed remains of (supposedly) over 6,000,000 people that were removed from cemeteries in the 18^th and 19^th centuries.  It was pretty neat and chilling to see all of the bones neatly stacked and lined up underground, but after waiting 2 hours outdoors in 100°+ heat, the 45 minute walk through the tunnels was a little bit disappointing.  Worthwhile for a shorter wait though for sure.  We took it easy and rested up at night then took a day trip to Versailles to go see the palace and gardens.  The whole thing is obviously over the top ornate and gaudy, as one would expect from Louis XIV.  If you can get over the ridiculousness of it all though, the art inside is pretty fantastic and it’s a great example (actually, the prime example) of the opulence of pre-revolution French opulence.  The gardens are no different – I don’t know how many acres they occupy, but it’s actually obscene how well cared for they still are, and how meticulous the planning and execution of the landscaping is.   Thursday afternoon we took it easy to prepare for a night train trip to Madrid, which was a little low on space to say the least.

 

Madrid is quite hot.  Really really hot actually - it’s been close to 100* both days we’ve been here.  Yesterday we took a free walking tour of the city (similar to the ones offered in Berlin) and then did a self tapas tour at night.  The tapas here are much different from how they’re done in the states – more bar snacks than anything else, but they’re awesome nonetheless.  Today we went to the Spanish naval museum, which had a great collection of artifacts from the armada all the way up to modern times.  We then took in some works of Dali and Picasso at the Reina Sophia museum. 

I wrote in the beginning of this post about how expressive the French (specifically the Parisians) seem to be, and how they can sometimes come off as rude as a result.  Some people defend all of this by saying that in America we just have different customs from France and that what might be considered rude in New York might not be rude at all in Paris.  I have no problem with this explanation, however, even in light of this, there are some elements of rudeness that remain.  Obviously there are rude and snobby people in New York as well, and plenty of very polite, very helpful and friendly people in Paris, but back home I rarely run into the attitude of superiority with which I am treated here by the locals.  It’s the tone of voice they use, their body language, their facial expressions – all add up to my feeling of being treated as a peon tourist who is soiling their beautiful culture.  It’s a shame, because like I said it’s a gorgeous city full of plenty of very warm, friendly people, and I certainly don’t mean to call all Parisians rude, but the few bad apples can definitely sour your experience.