Bob and I arrived in Pamplona five days before the running of the bulls. We walked to the bullring. It was, in truth, a functioning Roman amphitheater.
We found him in the Iruna
Dan was on The Way
And don't let the bedbugs bite
He played at the piano to keep warm
We arose and followed the forested trail into a tidy town. It was known as Burguete, or Auritz in the Basque tongue. The sun was also rising. Most everyone else was slumbering though, save a small cat that offered Bob and me a generous welcome. This self-appointed mayor circled, arched, and rubbed in as cats often do when the air is full of breakfast.
An Imperfect Introduction
790
He blowd his brains out his ears
The descent into Spain is rugged. The bright pastures of the sommets des pyrénées slip downslope, gradually at first, then furiously, precipitously, until they tumble into dense beech forests. Bob and I do the same. Spattered by mud, decorated with leaves, and swathed in shadow, we appreciate the epic Song of Roland.
