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Who are we?

This travel blog is created by me, Lars Aldman, a Swedish journalist and traveller, always in the company of my wonderful wife V. who is also a journalist and a fantastic photographer.

I worked for many years for the Swedish National Radio and Television, as a reporter/producer/studio host and a bunch of other roles.but now I’m retired and do whatever I like.

We love to visit foreign countries and cultures and meet people all over the globe. So far we have been to Asia, Africa, South America and the Caribbean and of course Europe. And we’d like to share with You, dear reader, what we have experienced and seen. We hope You want to join us and possibly find ideas for Your own adventures.

PS. To see more of my photos from journeys far and near, head over to aldmangallery.com 

To contact us via mail: info@resormedv.se

 

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Travels with V

Basque, Spain

Travels with V

Basque, Spain

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Hemmingway's favourite

Basque part 3, Pamplona

Pamplona, our next stop is of course famous for its bull runs, actually quite gruesome events where a bunch of bulls are forced to run through Pamplona’s streets to the big bullfighting arena. Hordes of young men try to run before the terrified bulls, and inevitably some people are hurt every year.

©Atkins525, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

This event draws huge crowds during the yearly “San Fermin” festival that has been going on for many hundreds of years. One famous guest who returned many times was the american author Ernest Hemingway. He always stayed at hotel Perla and walked across the street to Café Iruña for drinks. He is remembered in both places, in Iruña’s bar even in full figure.

The bullfight arena in Pamplona is huge, it’s the second largest in Spain. We are shown around and feel a bit uncomfortable in the stalls where they keep the stressed bulls before it’s their turn to be killed.

On days with no bullfight visitors can borrow equipment to play and train to be toreadors.

Pamplona was once the capital of the kingdom of Navarra and had a royal castle midtown. There’s however no traco of it today except in the name of the central square. But its grand palaces bear witness of a glorious past, and so in a way does the imposing and intricate defense works around the city, particularly on the south side where an attack was most expected.

We have a room high up in a rather fancy hotel, and outside our window there’s a green and lush park. And in this park there’s a little garden restaurant, quite simple with chairs and tables directly on the ground. But it turns out to be one of the most popular joints in town, and when after some waiting we get a table we order grilled sardines, patatas bravas and tuna tartar. And two glasses of chilled verdejo wine. Life is simply wonderful at times like these.

It goes without saying that in Pamplona too there is a pintxos/tapas  district. Quarters with the usual picturesque narrow streets lined with busy taverns where hungry guests wait for their turn to order some of the delicious creations in the counter. The waiters hurry like mad men to serve all. As in all cities.