Why do Pamplonenses Celebrate San Fermin?

Pamplonenses celebrate San Fermines in honor of San Fermín, a Christian missionary, co-founder of Navarra. He was decapitated at the age fo 31 when he refused to stop spreading the word of God.

Originally, the celebration was a simple religious act, but with time, the party became bigger and bigger. In fact, the people who visit Pamplona between July 6 and July 14, make more emphasis on the party than the veneration of the Saint. I even doubt if most of these visitors know what the celebration represents. The celebration starts July 6 at midday with el Txupinazo (Chupinazo), a toss accompanied with the launching of a flare followed with a scream: “¡Viva San Fermín!” Although 2006 was a little different because the city’s mayor, Javier Esbuki, broke the tradition by screaming “¡Viva las fiestas de San Fermín!” because he is agnostic, lighting up a great controversy.

But the controversy did not affect the party, which continued in every corner of the city. It is sad the media don’t cover this impressive side of the celebration, and they only cover the encierro itself.

During San Fermines, Pamplona’s populations is multiplied by four, and people taint the streets with white and red, as they parade down the street with their San Fermin costumes: white clothes adorned with red belts and red handkerchiefs.

While the celebration lasts people befriend strangers, cultural and ideological differences disappear y and it is impossible to distinguish a person from the next because they all look alike. People don’t stop dancing and singing on the streets, and Pamplona transforms itself in the scenery of an open and never-ending party.

The city doesn’t sleep, but the visitors do, and they spread their sleeping bags in any patch of free grass they can find in plazas, street dividers of the main streets… They lay down to rest so they can continue the party later.

I say Goodbye to Pamplona with Tears and Illusion

I left Pamplona with a tear and an illusion.

A tear because I was living in a city that made me feel at home, a place where I felt comfortable, where I was happy.

And an illusion of moving to a more diverse place, with more movement, and an open door to the working world.

When I got to Madrid I found that I continued to be happy and I still felt at home. I was still surrounded with the majority of the people who had made me happy in Pamplona. On top of that, I found a sunny city, inhabited with kind people and less contamination than what I remembered.



Madrid is a large city, with a town-spirit: office hours are relaxed, lunches are long and people pause to talk to you.

There are a lot of places to visit: from cienmas and theaters, to museums, parks and bars… And if you don’t feel like doing anything, you can still entertain yourself watching the diverse individuals that live in this city.

Madrid is a chaotic and disorganized city, where everything is far, yet everything is connected by the wonderful underground metro system.

At this time I wonder, How long will this illusion last? When I leave it, will I shed some tears as well?

Getting to Pamplona from Madrid:
Bus: Continental Auto
Intercambiador de Metro Avenida América
Phone: 917 45 63 00

Etxachar: Decorations with Tombstones and Bizarre Stores

Standing in front of a map with irregular squares with numbers written in Euskera, we tried to figure out the name of the Church we had just visited in Etxalar , a small town in the north of Navarra, Spain.


But it was mission impossible. The map had no logic. The names did not belong to the streets or the places. "Maybe they were different family names," we speculated. However, non of them was duplicated. Consequently, we decided to enter the town’s shop to ask.

Inside the store, everything was bizarre. The shopkeeper wanted to make sure that her clients could find everything they needed, and due to the shop’s limited space, she chose variety over order.

To pick up an ice-cream, we had to look through salmons and oysters that were stored in the same fridge. We had to be careful not to get our fingers caught in the mouse traps that were sold next to the chocolate cookies, and when we got to the register, we had to control our sweet tooth so we wouldn’t buy Christmas sweets in the middle of march.

The store lady cordially explained to use that the map showed the names of the town’s houses. She said that since the town had only 800 inhabitants, it was easier to remember the names of the houses than the street names.

She also revealed to us that no one was buried underneath the tombstones that were scattered along Saint Mary’s Church's front yard. “One day, the current priest found them in a corner of the Church collecting dust, and he decided it was better to use them to decorate the Church than to keep them inside,” she told us.

Although I doubt I will adopt this strange decorating technique, I take with me a little magic from this town of enigmatic stories.

Pious Walk the Javieradas while we Drive

While pious walked for more than 40 kilometers to reach Saint Francis Xavier’s Church to celebrate mass, my friend and I drove to the church.

Even though it sounds bad, we did not mean to do it.

On Sunday, we got together at a friend’s house, picked up the map of Navarra, Spain, and some brochure with pictures of the area. After looking at them, we decided to drive to Saint Francis Xavier’s Castle and Leyre’s Monastery, without knowing the Javieradas (pious' anual walk to Saint Francis Xavier Church) were taking place that same day.

In Saint Xavier’s Castle, we visited the room that Saint Francis Xavier shared with Saint Ignacio of Loyola. We also looked through the window where the novices flamed their handkerchiefs to communicate with the gentlemen that walked through the parks.

In Sangüesa, the biggest town in the east of Navarra, we walked along the river and admired the wooden door of The Real Saint Mary’s Church, decorated with delicate, but complicated motives. However, we simply took a quick look at the impressive door since it was almost impossible to remain in that city longer: the strong odor that emanated from the industrial area was unbearable.

Finally, we enjoyed the magnificent sight from Leyre’s Monastery and enjoyed the Gregorian chorus.

It was a perfect trip to recharge our lungs with fresh mountain air, to fill our pupils with green prairies and snow covered hills, and to put a pause to a high speed weekend.


More pictures:
Saint Francis Xavier's Castle



View from Saint Francis Xavier's Castle