Monthly Archives: June 2025

Our quick stop in Burgos had come to and end. We breakfasted and thought we’d take a quick walk through what would surely be quiet streets after the night’s revelries. But there was no quiet here. By 10am the bands were back out playing and bars were beginning to open (on a Sunday no less!) so it was time to move on.

Back through the rabbit warren of access roads to get us out of the old city and on to the road north. Destination: Laguardia, a medieval town in the middle of the Rioja wine region. This trip would involve backroads and villages rather than motorways. The sun was scorching and the scenery expansive.

We reached our destination to realize I had not correctly interpreted the descriptor “medieval” correctly- it is in fact a walled city with no room for cars. Finding a parking spot outside the city was a challenge- there seemed to be a LOT of people doing the same thing. We squeezed our little Fiat into a space on the side of the road and made our way into town to find the hotel.

Where we found out that today is the end of the local festival and we were just in time for the running of the cows. Not quite Pamplona, there were half a dozen or so small bulls set loose to run down the main street several times. Along the route it seemed to be a thing for local men and boys to try to touch their horns. Interestingly but very odd.

After watching the cows, it was time to get settled in. The hotel had a garage outside the city where we could leave the car safely. Then some lunch in the shade – caprese salad for Frank and a local bean and chorizo soup for me. We spent a little while wandering the city and watching how the locals celebrate: at one point there were dozens of people sitting at tables in the street partaking of the largest paella I have ever seen!

Then, of course, siesta. Given the obnoxious heat that has settled over many parts of Europe, it was very nice to escape to the air conditioned hotel for a few hours of kip.

The new routine then continued: wake up, shower (again), change (again), go out and get sweaty (again). We opted to break with local tradition and have dinner at 20.30 instead of 22.00. We chose a winery/restaurant that had lots of GF things on the menu. It was a lovely meal with local steak and wine made in the building where we ate. We even got a tour of the cellar from the winemaker himself.

Heading back to the hotel at 22.30, we watched as the last of the festivities continued in the streets. There was still music and dancing for an hour or so before we said good night to Laguardia.

Memorable moments from today:

• Another set of local traditions with traditional dress. And music.
• A mere 14k steps, mostly within the walls of the thousand year old city.
• More English spoken by visitors here than in Burgos.

Today we say adios to Madrid and start our trek north. A taxi to the airport car rental company then half an hour of waiting and paperwork and we were ready to head out of the city in our Fiat 500 convertible. Tiny car, no roof. That’s how we roll. And we were rolling with no sunscreen because it turns out that was left behind in the hotel in Madrid. 😖

But we persevere! A quick stop along the road (where my kindergarten Spanish proved mildly useful) and we were back on the Autovía Norte. We arrived in Burgos just before 14.00 and proceeded to experience Google maps hell. Our hotel is in the middle of the old city so the driving directions were a bit inscrutable. The now annoying vocal cues kept telling us to turn onto what looked like a pedestrian plaza. Given our history with foreign traffic violations, we were loathe to take that turn. After five spins separate attempts involving lots of traffic and a large roundabout we took the plunge.

Guess what? There was an access road through the plaza! But the plaza and the road were PACKED with people. We spotted another car trying to plow through the crowd so we made a convoy. The revellers were all dressed in purple and white, enjoying mas bebidas, and cheering as we honked our horn at their insistence. We eventually made it to the hotel where we learned that this weekend started the festival of Saint Peter and Saint Paul and that it would be one big street party. 🎉

Once checked on, we joined the party! There were THOUSANDS of people milling about the streets in the hot sun. We eventually found a spot to eat at a place called Flor de Scotia – yup, a Scottish themed pub with Brewdog on tap and all. We wandered the old town marvelling at the number of marching bands also parading through the old city.

Eventually we needed a break from the heat and the people so it was time for the main attraction- the Burgos Cathedral. Eight hundred years of church history with both gothic and baroque architecture, it is a massive structure that is firmly embedded in the city and dominates the landscape. (For those playing along at home, the stained glass obsession got its first feeding!)

After ogling the gilt and statuaries while enjoying the cool interior, it was time to venture back out to the town. The crowds had thinned considerably and we decided it was time for siesta. Back to the hotel for some kip and a showers to freshen up. Then we joined the now enormous throng of people who had returned for the party. There were bands playing at various stages in squares and even in car parks. They often battled with the marching horns that would pass by. People were everywhere , dancing and singing. Kids filled squirt guns from local foundations and battled it out while mom and dad enjoyed caña and calimocho (a mix of red wine and cola- very yummy!)

We also indulged in some beverages while enjoying a performance by Nacho Pistachio before finally looking for something to eat. The massive crowd made this challenging but we eventually snagged a table just before 10pm to enjoy dinner and people watching. Frank tried the local delicacy Morcilla – a kind of blood sausage- and some Spanish BBQ ribs. Both were deemed tasty. I opted for a salad which was also delicious. Thousands of people were still milling about the streets; young people (read:those under 30) were toting plastic shopping bars with boxes of vino tinto and bottles of cola. At some point my crowd tolerance was breached and we decided to call it a day. We made it back to the hotel just shy of midnight.

Highlights for the day:

• At least 6 marching bands observed
• Just over 20K steps taken
• One fan purchased
• Almost no English speaking tourists encountered
• Overwhelming sense of joy and community experienced