For all of you left reading this (without me actually badgering you daily from my work e-mail) this is a quick note to say I managed to get out of Pamps alive ... sure Pete has my soul in his back pocket and my liver missed the flight, but I am safe and sound in Oslo.
The trip started much the same as any other where you have to be up at 3am to get to Stansted ... well planned, with promises made to keep out of the LOD yet ended as they all do ... unpacked and maggot with someone knocking on your door to get out and in to the cab. If there were any thoughts the reunion of this group (4 years post our initial Pamps fling) would be any different, they were quickly thrown out of Ahmed's (our mini cab driver) door.
First a run down of the crew with number of appearances in brackets: O 'Lord of Loose' Matthews (4), P 'Death' J Elliott (3), Worker (3), Mo 'McCaffrey' Matthews (2), Soph 'Mouse' Herdina (2), Jason 'Birdman' Robertson (0), Jess 'Dutchess of Destruction' Cowie (0) & Ange 'Flange' Lancaster (0).
The trip began in San Seb where we thought we may be lucky enough to jag some sun ... PNod number 1 ... no sun to be seen, sure the pic looks sunny but it was windy and cool so we thought instead it would make sense to hit the old town and chop on with the locals. For those of you who have never been to San Seb before it is a beautiful town set on 2 amazing bays, one protected by an island, the other a surf bay. From atop the mountain overlooking the town is a huge Jesus statue (similar to Rio though not as large), beneath the statue is the old town, where the streets are small and tight and the tapas and cerveza flows. It is here (away from the high street shops) where you finally feel you are really in Spain.
Every Tapas restaurant seems to be busy, irrespective of the time, and each one has an aray of eye catching, colourful plates, full of local produce for you to sample along with your beer.
After a few hours of respectable behaviour Mo returned with a cooler full of Sangria and so we took to the streets pouring said concotion into mouths as they passed. As per usual in San Seb we all managed to somehow get seperated, though Mo & Mouse took themselves home early because they felt too drunk. Well what a surprise when we returned and found them putting on their own comedy show, a performance that would earn them free drinks and tapas from the publican for the rest of the trip. Pity no one can remember what it was they were doing otherwise I would pass this invaluable information on.
Next stop was Pamps a day before the San Fermin festival officially kicks off, to get in to our apartment and have a quick look around the town before the madness begins. The locals rent out their flats over the weekend (and for €1,200 for 3 days why wouldn't you) and the Lord had scored us a beauty, sure it was closer to San Seb than Pamps, but it was a corker all the same.
Opening day came and dressed in our traditional red and white outfits we made our way to the plaza for the festivities. Everyone congregates here in front of the town hall to conduct what could only be described as 'the biggest food fight in the world'. Sangria is sprayed, flour flies, champagne cascades and eggs ... whoops sorry no eggs any more after the Mayor copped one a couple of years ago. It is total madness and great fun however, unfortunately, this year there were way too many people there and it became a scary crush, girls were crying, it was difficult to breath and as the crowd surged you were powerless to prevent it. This being the third time I have braved it I can honestly say it was out of control so hopefully something is done next year before a tragedy occurs.
Anyway enough of the morbid rubbish, next stop The White Horse, a beautiful bar overlooking the valley, however a quick swing by the Muscle Bar is in order first. This is the statue where idiots climb up and fall into the arms of the people below, what a great idea lets get maggot and hope those more maggot than me will catch me as I head toward a cobbled street. The less said about this the better.
Up at the White Horse I can honestly say it was one of the best days had there, brilliant fun and great to be up there with Pete, O, Mo and the rest of the crew as we took the p*ss out of all in sundry including many ad hoc games of stacks on. The night ended in boogie street, a street just outside the bull ring where the disco goes all night (believe me no-one parties like the Spanish), chopping was flowing and with it the memory checked out ... the sign of a great opening day.
The first bull run was the next morning however given I had done it a few times previously (read: Mum told me that if I did it again I was disowned), I felt why tempt fate (read: too maggot to get out of bed).
The next few days were spent pretty much in the same cycle ie wake up, feel ill, have Pete had you a glass of Sangria, suddenly feel better and do the Poppa Choo's long into the night.
Leaving Pamps, and our stinky clothes behind, we headed back to San Seb with our tails between our legs. The last few days were a bit quieter as we tried to recover from Death and Pamps before we all had to say our goodbyes and jetted back to London (Death is now destroying Portugal).
All in all a magnificent trip, I know I have said it before but if there is one festival you ever do in Europe, make it Pamps. The people are nice, the prices are relatively cheap, the food fantastic and the atmosphere unbeatable. Thanks to the guys who made it a great trip but special mention to Death who spent $4k hard earned Kiwi (so £5) to get there, was great to see you again mate and I look forward to chopping on once more in NZ, Oz or Canada where ever they will let us in.
For all pics check out http://www.flickr.com/photos/worker/
