PAMPLONA (Basque, Iruñea), July 1 — While some people fall asleep at church by accident, Bob and I found one where sleep is encouraged.
Outside and inside our hostel in downtown Pamplona.
The building was constructed by the Jesuits at the end of the 16th century. A sign outside carried the name Iglesia de Jesús y María. The Iglesia was converted into an albergue or “hostel” that caters to Camino walkers. We found a small man in glasses behind a counter. He dutifully checked and stamped our pilgrim passports,
“Welcome,” he offered in English, handing the booklets back.
I returned mine to the backpack ziploc.
Inside the building, a central nave continued to serve the needs of the community as a gathering space, but the aisles to the right and left were converted into sleeping areas. Wooden partitions and bunks lined the gaps between the columns. We claimed bunks, checked the mattresses for chinches (a la veteran Greg, see post here), and washed up to go exploring. We would sleep—I hoped—but only after a walkabout in this provençal capital.
On my list was Pamplona’s Plaza del Castillo or “Castle Square.” It was just a stroll away from the Iglesia de Jesús y María.
Pamplona’s Plaza. Image from here (accessed 10/4/2021).
The plaza is the beating heart (or to change the metaphor, the “living room”*) of the city and has been for centuries. It is symmetrical in shape, but has an eclectic appearance. Different buildings were constructed in different times. They are united by covered porches and orientation: all face the omphalos of Pamplona, a circular bandstand that rises in the middle of the square.
The bandstand in the middle of the square was deserted.
Bob and I took it all in, wandering the tree-lined perimeter and enjoying the freedom of walking without packs. Oddly enough, other pedestrians were scarce. The Spanish sun drives most folk to the shade in summer. But there was another reason. This was the season of the World Cup and Spain had Russia in the Round of 16. Clusters of people gathered around televisions that hung from poles or walls about the square.
I moved along the edges of this uneven arcade until I found what I looking for. Emblazoned on a stiff white awning was the label: Café Iruña. We pulled through the sidewalk tables and found ourselves inside a splendid room of gilded timbers, earthen colors, and tiled floors. It had the ambiance of the late 19th century, sans the wide screen television on the wall. Every chair was full, and most were turned in the same way, theater mode. The score was tied. The crowd was tight.
It brought to mind a scene from Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. In this novel, considered by many to be his first and best, the author describes a group of bohemians caught up in the frenzy of the San Fermín festival. His story is constructed, in part, upon fact. Hemingway and friends came here repeatedly to eat, drink, gossip and see the bulls. He wrote:
“We ate at tables set out under the arcade. The town was full of people. We had to wait for a table. After lunch we went over to the Iruña. It had filled up, and as the time for the bull-fight came it got fuller, and the tables were crowded closer. There was a close crowded hum that came every day before the bull-fight. The café did not make this same noise at any other time, no matter how crowded it was. This hum went on, and we were in it and a part of it.”
The festival of San Fermin, 1954. Photograph from here (accessed 10/6/2021).
I interrupted the waiter (he was devoted to the hum of the television) and inquired about the object of my search. He absently waved us toward a door.
Bob and I followed his intimation. Beyond a short hall (or entryway) was a narrow room with many mirrors. In its center was a bar. The wood was reddish-brown, worn, but well-polished. The keep had his back to us; he was devoted to the hum as well. Bottles of various sizes and shapes lined the shelves. Closer to us, and leaning on the counter was a second figure. He was not tight. One foot rested lightly on the rail. His elbow was nonchalantly propped up on the bar top. His face was lined; his hair was wavy and full. His face revealed neither surprise nor irritation by our sudden interruption; it was more like, “Oh, there you are. I knew you'd come.”**
It was Ernest Hemingway!
¡Buen Camino!
A life-sized statue of Ernest Hemingway stood at the counter in the Iruña.
Bob and Ernest share a moment.
*According to the article here, the Plaza del Castillo is commonly referred to “as the ‘living room’ of all the people of Pamplona.”
**As I understand it, the room is often crowded with unsavory tourists, but with the match and all, Bob and I had Ernest to ourselves that afternoon. It was probably a good thing. Despite dominating Russia in every category of play, the match ended in a tie. Then Spain was eliminated in a shootout. That’s a rough World Cup exit.
We have a full slate of trips to the Bible Lands ready to launch in 2022. One departs New York for Israel on March 12 and returns on March 25. This high-energy study tour will move light and fast, so pack your hiking shoes! Walt Harper, professor from Central Christian College of the Bible and Jeff Snell from Johnson University will assist with teaching duties on this one. For more information click here or contact me at markziese@gmail.com.