Down Day

It will take quite a few years for the church to complete its research and make a final decision, but seeing it first hand, I can tell you it is no small miracle that all four of us were back on our feet and able to leave our apartment this morning. In addition to some very sore joints, muscles, bones, and other body parts I forgot I even had, Friday night in Pamplona is apparently time to party in the streets well into the early hours.

We spend the early afternoon wandering through the streets of old town, picking up a stamp for our pilgrim passports at the cathedral, hoping from bar to bar sampling pintxos with the locals, packing down two meals worth of churros and chocolate, and otherwise just enjoying a quiet day without a destination.

The find of the day, without a doubt, is this rare piece I envision gracing the mantle in Nick’s new apartment. Basketball Frog is a true classic and it is a tragedy to walk away knowing that it just couldn’t survive the journey.

The city is preparing for the festival of San Fermin, most famous for the running of the bulls, of course, but that is just part of the 8 solid days of celebration that will kick off here in just a few weeks. Leading up to the official start, there are all kinds of other events taking place, including a marathon just steps from our front door. When the loud cheering and sounds of the marching band become too much too resist, I head off with Nick to investigate, quickly getting swept up into the parade of people, most with drink in hand, many in dress attire (which I don’t understand at all), following the racers while signing, and waving flags. Not at all how I envisioned my day when I woke up this morning, but definitely memorable.

We’re back on the grind early tomorrow, with one more major climb to knock out before finishing up in the town of Puente la Reina.