It’s day three for Megan, day seven of the festival.
Although I don’t think that my body could physically stand any more than the 24 remaining hours that I have at this festival (my liver and digestive system is thanking god it all ends tonight), I am having more fun than I have had in years. I think a lot of that has to do with being back in Western Europe, and another piece of it is getting the opportunity to see something that I’ve only ever read about.
There’s too much that I want to post, and for my own posterity, I’m laying some stuff down that probably won’t interest you. Good thing this blog is all about me.
Papa, standing watch over the bullring. Before the start of the Bull Runs, a red handkerchief is tied around his neck, signaling the start of the mayhem- I mean celebrations.
Hotel La Perla. Hemingway stayed in Room 217, and first watched watched activities from above in 1923. Today’s cost to book his room and invoke his spirit? $655 a night. You want to stay in his room during the festival? Try $2251 a night, with a five-night minimum stay. Thank you, I will stick with wandering the streets for free.
Café Iruna. Dates from 1888.
“We had coffee at Café Iruna, seated at comfortable armchairs, while from the fresh shadow of the arcades we contemplated the Grand Plaza.”
-The Sun Also Rises
The smoky bar adjoining the café.
Café Iruna no longer has comfortable armchairs that I could find, nor can I really say that the waiters are all that remarkable- you order what you want and they decide if they’ll get it for you). But still, I’m in the area and need to make a tour of all the well-known haunts.
Is it totally clichéd to be in Pamplona and try to get a feel for the aspects of Spanish life that Papa found so compelling? Of course. After all, the Lost Generation has long-since been replaced by the Over-intoxicated Generation (and yes, I do list myself as a member of this club). I think however, that the more important question becomes, are you still able to find vestiges of how the festival was conducted back in the 1920s? I think so.
That will be material for the next blog entry, if I ever get caught up.