Pamplona on a quiet day in spring

We wound our way around narrow cobblestone streets where tall narrow houses, looking quaint and medieval, had balconies, bay windows with flowers and plants, and wooden eaves. We had the place almost to ourselves, and the peace was soothing. Without knowing it we had reached the Plaza de Toros, the famous bullring. We found the stone bust of Hemingway in one of the entrances near the parking lot. Concerts and spectacular shows were also held here, it was said. The round concrete building was impressive, with the coat of arms emblazoned on top of its main door. I could imagine the victorious matador, raised by the shoulders of celebrating friends and supporters, holding aloft the still-dripping, freshly-cut bull’s ears, laughing and triumphant. Perhaps, one day (in the next lifetime?) Alex and I shall come back as sturdy youths and be matadors, or simply, do the running with the bulls ourselves.   Further on, we came upon the 

ayuntamiento (City Hall), its medieval-looking façade familiar to the eye. This building was often seen on TV and magazines during the San Fermines revelries, with the mayor firing off the first rocket from its balcony to start the festivities. It was a three-story edifice, with clean pillars demarcating each of the three sections and their windows. The ayuntamiento also represented the unification of the three barrios in Pamplona: Navarrería, San Cernin, and San Nicolás. On top was a little boy looking like a cherub with a golden clarinet, flanked on both sides by lions guarding the city’s coat of arms, and the bells. Flags of both Pamplona and Spain fluttered in the breeze. As Alex and I stood there looking at the façade closely, an elderly man came up and offered to take our photos. A rare occasion indeed, to have a picture of Alex and me together! We chatted awhile with the soft-spoken and kind man. He invited us to come in July when the place, he said, really comes alive, not like today, “uuuf!” We told him this was perfect, going around on our own quietly, and meeting him in such a serene atmosphere. A bit breathless now, we sought out the gardens of the Parque de la Taconera, a beautiful leafy park with bright red, pink and yellow tulips basking in the sunshine, and where double hibiscus, white and lilac-colored, swayed with the breeze. Daisies and lavender added more color and perfume to the air, as I noted the stone bust of Hilarion Eslava, a noted musician from Pamplona, and the ivory-white marble statue of a beautiful lady, the MariBlanca, reminiscent of Italian sculpture. Alex and I sat on a wooden bench for a while, resting our feet, as I tried my best to write the morning’s experiences on a travel journal. I discovered that writing about the events immediately was better; the details were still fresh, as one’s mind could really play tricks, and memories became confusing: many times they eventually faded off, and recall was well-nigh impossible.     Young people’s voices interspersed with the garden’s quiet. A group of teenagers were having a picnic, and when they finally got up from their al fresco lunch, most of the boys stripped to their waists. It was a signal for us to resume our exploration, and we walked towards the direction of the cathedral.   The big church was built around the 14^th century in the Gothic style, but there were neo-classic elements in its entrance, like the clean-looking tall pillars. Inside, we were awed by the lofty vaulted ceilings and quiet side chapels. I lit two candles at the chapel of the Sacred Heart in thanksgiving for the safe sojourn of my brother Anthony who flew to Vancouver as an immigrant only a few months before, and for his successful integration into a wholly different culture, so far away from home. The cathedral’s cloisters too, were so hushed we found ourselves talking in whispers, as if loathe to disturb the monks in prayers. The cathedral museum was a treasure trove, and because there were only five of us there, we were able to appreciate the exhibits slowly. We even had time to go back to the cathedral proper to sit on one of the front pews and enjoy the views of the altar, the apse, and the naves.   And because we had time Alex and I walked around the newer part of the city and enjoyed the installation art amidst early blooms that blanketed the parks beside the busy thoroughfares. Indeed, both medieval and modern identities of the city seemed to flow seamlessly into each other, making for an eclectic whole.   We may not have caught Pamplona in its encierro frenzy, but friend E. was right – Iruña certainly held its own magic that April, when we were able to go around in the quiet streets, and meet the locals in a peaceful atmosphere. There will be another time for the lively revelry and all-night and day carousing of a San Fermines celebration later, one sunny July. – YA, GMA News