Uno de enero, dos de febrero…Experiencing the San Fermines festival of Pamplona

Author’s note: This article was written by a guest author. While I have been to quaint Pamplona, I have never seen the bullfights or the running of the bulls that has made this city so famous. Therefore, none of the sentiments expressed in the post belong to me or to Sunshine and Siestas.

What images appear in anyone’s mind when they encounter the words “tour,” “tourist,” “touring,” or “leisure travel”? For me, it brings back memories of my stay in some of the best hotels in Costa Brava, my scuba diving adventure off the coast in Thailand, my long-distance trekking in the Lower Himalayas, and other countless visits in top destinations in the world. However, I’ve always known that tourism is more than that. It includes interacting with locals, tasting local cuisine in the region’s humble restaurants, learning more about the region’s history, shopping and haggling in bazaars and souks, or discovering less-known areas. In other words, to truly complete and enjoy a tour, I usually make an effort to experience a nation’s culture first-hand by doing what locals do every day.

Through my experiences, I learned that one of the best ways to experience a region’s culture is to witness and, better yet, join its festivals. Festivals embody and encapsulate a lot of the nation’s history and culture in a single event. For locals, it is a way to commemorate something significant, historical, or inspirational that made them the way they are today. For tourists, partaking in a festival is a way to learn something about the place while having a great deal of fun.

San Fermines

Spain is one of those countries where festivals are seemingly almost a daily occurrence, which is not surprising considering that it has a rich history and culture whose influence echoes to almost every corner of the world. Each Spanish city, town, village, or municipality may have its own plethora of festivals. And in Pamplona in Navarre, Spain, tourists can have more than just travel and leisure when they partake of the festival of San Fermin, locally known as San Fermines.

The festival, which is celebrated from July 7 to July 14 every year, is held in honour of the co-patron saint of Navarre, St. Fermin, which the festival is named after. It is considered as the one of the most popular and well-attended festival in Spain. In fact, every year, vastly more than 1 million people participate in the San Fermines.  During the festival, the entire populace wears white shirts and red scarves.  I’ve witnessed the San Fermines celebration – it’s spectacular!

Daily Events

Each day of the San Fermines festival is marked by daily activities that are fun, and sometimes dangerous, apart from the festival’s main attraction.

The Running of the Bulls – this event, which begins at 8 AM every day, involves masses of people running for their lives in front of enraged bulls: six bulls to be exact! The participants run half a mile of narrow streets in a part of old Pamplona, a run that usually lasts for 3 minutes, while being chased by big, strong bulls. The run ends at the bullring where the beasts will be held until the bullfight in the afternoon. Needless to say, the event is inherently dangerous. (Cat has walked these narrow, slippery cobblestone streets – it’s not for the faint of heart!)

The Parade of Giants – every morning from July 7 to 8, a parade of giant mascots is held in the streets of Pamplona. The giants, some of them over 150 years old, represent the rulers of different places and races. A skilled performer “wears” the giant costume while dancing to the rhythm of classical Spanish music. It’s a fun event as the giants playfully run after children.

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Bullfights – Spain has always been associated with bullfights. Each afternoon from July 7 to 14, fully costumed toreros step out into the arena and perform their dance with angry, powerful bulls. The stadium is always full during the afternoon, and those interested are advised to book tickets ahead of time if they wish to check out bullfights.

Classical sports – Forget football, basketball, and other modern Spanish sports. During the San Fermines festival, tourists and locals are re-introduced to traditional Basque sports that were once played hundreds of years ago. Every afternoon, in a square near the city’s citadel or bullring, local Spaniards and tourists either watch or participate in sports like hay bale lifting, woodcutting, stonelifting, and Jai ali. You can bet on your favourite “athlete,” by the way.

Fireworks Shows – at the end of the day, the city launches a fireworks show. These colourful shows in the sky have been a part of San Fermines since 1595, and  Pamplona has been hosting international fireworks competitions since 2000. During the night, thousands of people sit down on the grass around the city park to marvel at the exploding, brilliant colours in the night sky.

Take part of the San Fermines, one of the most popular festivals in Spain.

Author bio: Ariana Louis is a backpacker, traveller, and blogger. For more than a decade, she has experienced spending hotels in Costa Brava, exploring the jungles of Thailand, hiking the wilderness of the Lower Himalayas, and travelled to the corners of the globe. She keeps a cool photo blog of her adventures which also includes practical travel and adventure tips.

I’m headed to the Tomatina festival this August, a bit more my style than the heart-pounding (not to mention, life-threatening) action. Have you ever been to the San Fermines festival? Was it absolutely mad?!

My Travel Round Up from the First Six Months of 2013

My parents, upon my high school graduation (10 years ago…thank you, Atlantic Ocean, for existing and putting distance between me and my fellow Tigers just this once!) gave me a heartfelt speech about how I was always the child who never learned how to walk. I went from spitting up on myself to running, just like I went from college to globetrotter four years later.

There was no better way to start my year than ringing in 2013 with my familia and cousin Christyn in Puerta del Sol. The first six months of the year have been busy (but the good kind), fruitful and happy. I’ve been able to sneak in some travel, my 30th country and finish a master’s in the process.

January

After a trip to Barcelona with my parents and taking various day trips around Catalonia, I returned to work absolutely pooped and with zero ganas to move forward. The chilly weather and the extra responsibility of becoming a training Director of Studies was a lot of work, but the great people at Almohalla 51, Myles and David, allowed Hayley and I to come stay with them at their newly-opened boutique hotel in Archidona.

I also looked forward to having the Novio home from his duty abroad. As a late anniversary present, I took him to eat our way through Florence and Bologna. In between bites, we checked out the sites along the Arno, drank copious amounts of espresso and Moretti beer and befriended a Venetian named Peppino. Buona manggia, sí señor!

February

February was quiet, though Angela and Ryan of Jets Like Taxis joined me on a colorful trip to Cordoba. I chalk it up to being a short month.

March

As the trimester wound down, I began to get geared up for my Semana Santa trip to Dubrovnik and Montenegro. Hayley, my Spanish media naranja, and I walked the impressive city walls in Dubrovnik while refueling on cevapi, a spiced sausage sandwich and drinking in the views and local beers at Buza Bar (despite its obnoxious advertising).

After a few days in the Pearl of the Adriatic, we took a bus across the border to Montenegro, which was my 30th country. While  the weather wasn’t stellar, we were charmed by Europe’s youngest country. The friendly people, the free wi-fi and the views of our roadtrip around the Bay of Kotor made for a rejuvenating week.

April

April showers seemed to have brought Feria heat – we sweated right through our flamenco dresses, and I think my right bicep is now twice as large as its twin from all of that fan flicking. I even broke some of my own rules when it came to stalking around the Real!

Just the week before, I had gone up to Madrid (if only I had a euro for every maldito trip I’ve made to la Capital…) to visit my sister-in-law, Nathàlia, and pick up my new car, Pequeño Monty. Nath is Brasilian but did her degree in Alcalá de Henares, city of Miguel de Cervantes fame, so she showed me around her town known for its university and free tapas.

May

Luckily for this guiri, the usual May weather was nowhere to be found, so we got some respite from the heat. Meg and I drank rebujito at the Feria de Jerez, a lite version of Sevile’s famous fête where you don’t get trampled by horses, and we bounced between a Mexican-themed caseta and a biker bar. Toto, We’re not in Sevilla anymore. The following day, I continued the fiesta in the Novio’s village at their Romeria de San Diego, a booze-soaked picnic in the middle of the dehesa.

A week later, I attended my first blog trip to Calpe, a small fishing village that has capitalized on the tourism boom from nearby Benidorm. Despite the hotels popping up along the beach, Calpe is laid-back yet bursting with energy. We were treated to tons of water-related activities, including paddle surfing and betting on our lunch at the Lonja de Pescado.

June

During the first weekend of June, I had to make a trip to Madrid for mandatory camp meetings and Camino dealings. I met with Pablo, Fernando and Alex of Caser Expat Insurance, who are helping me make my Camino For the Kids a reality. I even got my feet checked out by the team at Podoactiva, the same people who outfit professional athletes with their shoes.

The Novio and I snuck in a day at the beach, and my mom came to stay for a week in the last sweltering week of June. I was extremely busy with my master’s and preparing for summer camp. Apart from showing her my favorite restaurants and rincones of Seville, we also made it to Jerez to see the horse show, to Doñana for a horse ride through Mazagón, and San Nicolás del Puerto, where she got to meet the Novio’s mother and ride their prized mare, Orgiva.

I am happy to say that I have very few travel plans at the moment for the second half of the year, save slinging tomatoes at the Tomatina with Kelly in August and Oktoberfest with my cousins in late September – I need a break after a year of turning my blog into a business, completing a master’s in a second language and starting a new job. Sunshine? Yes. Siesta? POR FAVOR. 

Don’t forget that I’ll be back at camp in July, and then walking close to 320km to raise money and awareness for pediatric cancer patients back home on the Camino de Santiago. Please follow #CaminoFTK on twitter or instagram for more information. Sunshine and Siestas is also accepting guest posts during this time, so please send your stories and photos from Spain!

What were your travel highlights of the first six months of the year?

Seville Snapshots: A Por Ellos. La Roja and the Confederations Cup

As the Novio says, “Sport is a physical activity with marked rules in which the Spaniards always triumph.” He is, of course, basing his knowledge of the domination of Spanish sport in tennis, Formula 1, synchronized swimming, and, clearly, fútbol.

I never thought I would be interested in the most popular Spanish sport, despite playing as a kid on local teams and even for my high school. But between Betis matches and watching Spain clinch the World Cup in 2010, defeating the Netherlands in an extra play (I think my bladder nearly burst for not wanting to miss a play!), I was hooked. A por ellos.

Thankfully, there are football matches nearly every night of the week, whether it’s league play, the Champions League, or worldwide championships. Spain just completed playing in the Copa Confederaciones, or the Confederations Cup. In this precursor to the World Cup next summer, Spain easily breezed past Tahiti and Nigeria, winning its group, and then squared off against Italy in the semifinals.

As I tick off the opponents Spain has faced since 2008 and the nail-biting penalty kicks and extra minutes, I realized that Spain has long has a target on its back. One of its biggest opponents has been Italy for the last five years, particularly after Spain beat L’Azzure last summer in the EuroCup, becoming the first team to win Eurocup-World Cup-Eurocup. The Novio and I took my mom to the bar to watch the game. Nancy isn’t interested in soccer and missed me score my only goal in actual competition (I played right wing! Get over it!), as she was yapping away, and this game was no different.

After 90 minutes of play, an extra play time was added. I got flashbacks to the World Cup in 2010, watching the time drain away while the game remained scoreless. Penalty shots were kicked and each one sunk in. Italy. Spain. Italy. Spain. On penalty kick seven, Bonucci misses, allowing Seville’s own Jesús Navas to clinch the game on his kick, and sending La Roja to the finals against hometown host Brasil.

Last night, as I finished my master’s final project, I listened with earnest to the radio. Spain was going after the last cup going into the World Cup stage next year, where Germany and Brasil will likely be touch competitors. Thankfully, I was distracted from the huge 3-0 loss and turned off the tube once Marcelo started prancing around and congratulating his Real Madrid teammates on the Selección Española.

As a Cubs and Betis fan, I’ve just one lema: There’s always next year.

Interested in sharing your stories and photos on Sunshine and Siestas? I’m looking for guest bloggers during these busy six weeks of camp and Camino. Get in touch if you’re keen!

Seville Snapshots: Calle Pureza, the heart of Triana

Soy Ana, de la Calle Pureza

Kelly never fails to let people believe she’s trianera, a resident of the Triana neighborhood of Seville. When I called this barrio home for three years, we’d often wax poetic about just how special it felt, that it was more a feeling than monuments or a glossy exterior. Triana is the old fisherman’s barrio, where squat houses crumble next to soaring church spires, where a tapa is bigger and cheaper than in the center. I had all of my people here – the man around the corner who made my coffee, the woman at the laundromat who would re-wash a garment – for free – if she wasn’t satisfied.

Even the natives – those who have grown up and attended school in the neighborhood – swell with pride when describing a neighborhood where gypsies sing flamenco on the streets every now and again and azulejo tiles line the hole-in-the-wall bars.

While walking down Calle Pureza, a street that snakes through the heart of Triana, I heard a hoarse “cuidaaaaaao” as I was fumbling with Camarón’s settings. I was on the way to shoot the wedding of a guiri friend and her sevillano boyfriend, nervously changing between auto and manual. An abuelo weidling a shopping cart wizzed by me, dodging oncoming traffic as he carried nearly a dozen long septres towards the pristine basilica. I raised Camarón to my face and shot.

 Olé mi Triana.

I had a great time shooting Andrea and Carlos’s wedding in early June, and I’m as happy as they are with the results. If you’re looking for someone to shoot an event, engagement pictures, etc. in Seville, get in touch! Alternately, I’m looking for guest bloggers for the upcoming months. Send your stories and photos to sunshineandsiestas [at] gmail [dot] com.

Betting on Lunch at the Lonja de Pescado of Calpe

YA vienennnnnn! At the sound of the bell, plastic crates of fish and shellfish descended on a thin conveyor belt. Date prrrriiiiiisaaaaa! Hurry! I screeched to the Novio, having already informed Mikel of A Salto de Mata via Instagram that any red mullets were mine for the taking. Our lunch was being auctioned off, and our salmonetes were at stake.

Big mistake: the other auctioneers were smartphone-enabled, whereas my poor Novio was dealing with a broken machine and not-so-nimble fingers.

We were at the Lonja de Pescado of the village of Calpe, witnessing a daily event in this sleepy fishing town-cum-beach destination for Northern Europeans. Sitting in bleachers around a conveyer belt equipped with large screens, we were willing to pay upwards of 100€ for just a kilo of shrimp.

Just the night before, the Novio and I joined 49 other VIP couples – bloggers, digital media strategists and tourism professionals – as we ate morsel afer morsel at the celebrated El Puerto Blanco restaurant in Calpe. This family run eatery on the Costa Blanca runs on tourism and, indeed, el turismo is Calpe’s economic motor. Eight of 10 Calpinos work in the industry, and the privileged location on two pristine bays means that the mar is Calpe’s lifeblood.

No visit to the small village north of over-touristed Benidorm would be complete without paying homage to the ocean and its important role in Calpe’s economy. We began our day by taking a tourist train ride from our hotel, Gran Sol y Mar, to the port nestled just below the Peñón Ifach. The sun glittered off of the water as we were herded into the humble building labeled LONJA DE PESCADO.

This isn’t my first trip to the fish rodeo: for my friend Hayley’s 26th birthday, we had lunch at El Tintero, a seaside restaurant where you shout for your food as the white-and-black-clad waiters bring around whatever they’d caught that morning. In Calpe, the subasta, or auction, begins around 6pm when all of the fishing boats come in. Fish stink permeated my consciousness far too early in the morning, but as soon as the local fisherman began passing out the remotes that were to be used to bet, I could feel my pulse quicken.

 As the daily catch came down the belt, I craned my neck to see what was in the crates. On the screen, the name of the fish, its weight and the number of buckets to be expected, and a camera affixed at the end of the belt gave us a real-time view of the seafood passing underneath it.

I watched in horror as the prices climbed upwards. “Coño!” the Novio shouted, “I think our machine is broken!” The alarm sounded again, and the boss informed us that he was putting a cap on what we could spend for the next round. We were to pass along our remotes to others and watch the process repeat itself.

After we’d had two rounds of betting on everything from octopus to crabs to lenguado, Mundo Marino treated us to a catamaran ride around the Peñón with a glass of champagne and then it was back to dry land for fried seafood and a paella contest. We sampled half a dozen different types of the rice based dish, all cooked by different restaurants around the port and served up with homemade alioli.

…and now the Novio is beginning to understand my world.

If you go: The Lonja de Pescado de Calpe is located at the foot of the Peñón Ifach on the Esplanade. Look for the fishing boats, the long nets and the smell of freshly-caught fish. The building can be visited from 16h to 19:30h, and the subasta happens around 6pm, once all of the boats have returned with their daily catch.

Many thanks to Calpe Tourism Board for their invitation to #Calpemocion, and their generosity when it came to feeding, housing and entertaining us. For more information about my weekend of san, surf and seafood (with my own opinions, claro), check out all of my Calpe-tagged posts.

Tapa Thursdays: Caracoles

Spain is a country in which some foods are seasonal: pumpkins are ripest around Autumn, chestnuts are peddled on the street at Christmastime and strawberries show up on the market in February or March.

Then the signs start showing up: HAY CARACOLES. Snails here.

For someone who’s a texture freak when it comes to food, I slurped down my first little tentacled creature during my first Spring in Seville. And I wanted more. Like shrimp, I’ve learned to love them and giddily wait for la temporada de caracoles.

What it is: This little bugger, a common snail in English, has been eaten since the Bronze Age, and in Spain they’re prepared by cleaning the mollusk while it’s still alive, and boiling them over low heat with garlic, spices, salt and cayenne pepper for nearly two hours. You can get a tapa for around 1,80€, a plate for 5€ or even buy bags of live snails on the street near market and make them at home.

Where it comes from: Snails are eaten all over the place, but the caracoles that you’ll commonly find in Seville are found near the Atlantic coast and in Morocco.

Goes great with: Alright, it’s getting trite now…everything just tastes better with beer. The Novio and I often meet after work for a beer or two and a tapa of caracoles.

Where to find them: Bars all over Seville (as well as Córdoba) will serve up tapas of caracoles during the springtime. My picks are Casa Diego in Triana (Calle Esperanza de Triana, 19. Closed Sundays) and Cervecería La Tiza in Los Bermejales (Avda. de Alemania, s/n. Open daily).

Like caracoles? Have a Spanish food you’d like to see featured on my bi-weekly tapas feature? If you’re interested in learning more about mollusks, read more on my guest post on Spanish Sabores.

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