A poster by the Pamplona Bullring / Un poster por la Plaza de Toro de PamplonaAl contrario de las imágenes Hemingway había retratado, donde la multitud festejaba durante las Sanfermines y los amantes se peleaban, Pamplona en noviembre parecía austera y melancólica. No había muchos turistas, toros furiosos, aristócratas inglésas viajando, y con la excepción de yo mismo, pocos borrachos.
Por la mañana, me voy de España. Paris yo vengo! Era una visita corta efectivamente.
Cafe Iruño, where Hemingway drank / donde Hemingway tomabaPamplona
San Sebastián la lluviosa. Con un chaparrón que no podía detenerse, la cuidad por el Urumea me parecía como una dama gris, con tanta tristeza! Sin embargo, adentro, fuera de la cólera de la pachamama, me daba un gusto la cocina vasca y unos nuevos amigos del País Vasco y de Galicia.
Pintxo bar in San Sebastián / Un bar de pintxos en San Sebastián* * *
I had originally wanted to visit both sides of the Basque country. But for whatever reason, upon arriving at Biarritz Tuesday afternoon and after a short lunch by the beach, I immediately boarded another train directly for Spain. It wasn't a plan. But it felt right.
Pamplona Town Hall / El Ayuntamiento de Pamplona
Pamplona in November was very different than that of Hemingway´s famous novel. Without the raging bulls charging down the narrow lanes, around-the-clock San Fermin Festival goers, and the bickering lovers with multiple affairs, the city seemed forlorn, austere, melancholic. Except for me, there weren't even that many drunks stumbling around the city squares.
San Sebastián during my visit was rainy and cold. I was chilled to the bones, but found warm companionship with travelers and locals alike. It felt good speaking Spanish again! With pintxos, txakoli wine, and lively conversations with a few new Basque and Galician friends, I merrily passed two days inside, out of mother nature´s fury.
Bar Eruko for pintxos and txakoli San Sebastián
Pamplona Town Hall / El Ayuntamiento de PamplonaPamplona in November was very different than that of Hemingway´s famous novel. Without the raging bulls charging down the narrow lanes, around-the-clock San Fermin Festival goers, and the bickering lovers with multiple affairs, the city seemed forlorn, austere, melancholic. Except for me, there weren't even that many drunks stumbling around the city squares.
San Sebastián during my visit was rainy and cold. I was chilled to the bones, but found warm companionship with travelers and locals alike. It felt good speaking Spanish again! With pintxos, txakoli wine, and lively conversations with a few new Basque and Galician friends, I merrily passed two days inside, out of mother nature´s fury.
Bar Eruko for pintxos and txakoli San Sebastián/Comiendo pintxos y tomando txakoli en Bar Eruko, San Sebastián
1 comment:
Ah Clare has fond memories of San Seb, shame the weather wasn't nicer and we thoroughly enjoyed being taken around the southern French Basque country by a local, we saw so much more than if we'd stuck to the beaten track.
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