Pamplona: A Study in Comparison

When my Dad, D, Till and I returned to Pamplona from our sunny weekend abroad Till had to settle down and do some work, so the rest of us went to get a restorative drink and a bit of dinner. We ended up at the Cafe Iruna in the main square. The cafe is a beautiful example of art deco style done in greens and golds with plenty of mirrors that multiply the chandeliers in a kind of head spinning way so that it is difficult to tell which is the reality and which is the illusion. More than that, however, it is a famous haunt of Hemingway's. He included it in a scene in The Sun Also Rises. It is a lovely atmospheric place to sit and have a drink, dinner however is another matter altogether.

The realisation has slowly dawned upon us that waitstaff here is not of the same calibre we have appreciated in other European countries we have visited. Generally people are somewhat surly, and unfriendly. No having said that we have been to some higher end restaurants where people have been much more helpful and professional, but otherwise, and especially since tip is included and one doesn't have to earn it, servers seem to care (***insert scathing remark of your choice ***) about you.

Our Waiter at the Cafe Iruna was the worst example of this trend. He was young and fairly attractive, and probably wondered why his life's path had taken him here to wait upon the elderly and tourists (the demographics represented). Anyway he took our orders without interest, and left us to eat our sub par food in peace. We all remarked that it was a shame that such a beautiful historic landmark (the cafe also sits in the square that once held the bull fights) should have such crummy food. Anyway, the straw that broke the camel's back was when I ordered the "fruta del dia" for dessert, trying desperately to salvage my growing waistline. Out of the kitchen came a plate with a single unpeeled orange, that was placed in front of me without even a hint of humour. Luckily they had provided me with a knife and fork, which helped me attack the orange's very thick skin. I was reminded of one of my favourite moments in the film We're No Angels (Humphrey Bogart, Aldo Ray, and Peter Ustinov). Basel Raithbone plays this horrible misery Uncle who has his family in his pocket and decides to come and ruin their Christmas by taking inventory and looking over the books of his floundering store that they run. The three actors mentioned above are convicts who have escaped from Devil's Island Prison, and for one reason or another have become entangled in the lives of the family and want to help them. Basel Raithbone says to Bogie, "Fruit man, get me some fruit." Bogie goes into the kitchen, takes a pineapple and lots off the top with a machete. He puts the pineapple on a plate and brings it out with great ceremony. Basel Raithbone is not pleased and asks, "How am I supposed to eat this." Bogie replies, "with a knife and fork," and whisks it away into Raithbone's room.

Last night we ate at the much more pleasing, though still rough around the edges, Hotel Europa. The hotel has a small, private dining room, and is supposed to a Michelan starred kitchen. We didn't find the food and service to be quite up to par, but it was still world's away from Hemingway's Haunt. My favourite server was also the sommelier, who was donned in a black leather apron. He had very long, lean arms and his hand would elegantly sneak past your shoulder to pour the wine flawlessly without spilling a drop. My desert this time around was a cold raspberry juice with four balls of fresh cheese floating in it. The cheese was a perfectly firm skin, that when broken would reveal a liquid inside. The sweetness of the cheese mixed with the tart raspberry was heaven on my tongue.

So as we know when we are traveling we can't win every night, but we can relish the times that we do.

Challenges:
- Still not speaking any Spanish - we we're hoping we might magically learn it through osmosis
- Loud people on Till's street that awaken me too early or too late

Perks:
- really cheap food (The Cafe Iruna three course meal I had came to 13 Euros)
- WiFi (pronounced wee fee) at Dad and D's hotel
- my South American run international call centre that allows me to call the people I love back in Toronto for a mere few Euros