Pamplona

“This is a good place," he said.
"There's a lot of liquor," I agreed.”

We've driven all the way back and around to Pamplona. Our uncertainty about actually coming to Pamplona has meant we left this booking until the very end the city is full and we're in a motel on the outskirts of the city.

We take an hour or two to get the washing done and work out how to ship off all our excess Portuguese shopping home. We're into a taxi and heading to Plaza del Castillo for some Hemingway spotting. The guy is a god of the town with so many cafes and restaurants featuring photos of him signing this, or drinking that.

We have some lunch and what turns out to be my last serve of Pintxos, I miss it already. The square backs on to the bull run track, we stroll up if for the afternoon and find out balcony, we'll be right at the start of the run. If you're not shopping you're drinking on this street, Gab falls in love with an old lady and her Churros, I find a deli claiming to be selling cured sausages made from last years bulls, no bull.

What a great place to hang, we stop in the square in front of the town hall for a spot, then we're off back to the motel, tomorrow is going to be huge.Read more