Okay, it's not really the great road trip but it was a road trip, and I think I'm kinda great at driving so there you go: The Great Spanish Road Trip of 2015.

I am both intrigued and horrified at Spanish culture's fascinations with bulls. One part of the this bull culture is the San Fermin festival in Pamplona every July 6 - 14. When you think "running of the bulls", you're thinking of San Fermin. For a while I've had an itching to see the bulls run and with Jess and the kids in the U.S. and me here in Spain, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Our friends Lori and Josh graciously agreed to watch Olive for the weekend so I dropped her off on Thursday night. I had grand plans of being super organized and being completely packed on Thursday night so I could leave directly from the office but life got in the way and when I left for work Friday morning I didn't have much packed.

By the time I returned home and packed on Friday afternoon, it was 6:15pm before I hit the road.

No Spanish road trip would be complete without several missed exits and turns due to ridiculously laid out interchanges and poor signage. And one of roads I wanted to take to Pamplona was closed for construction so I needed to improvise. Luckily the sun doesn't set in Spain until abnormally late so I had some light to drive by until around 10:20pm which helped make up for the delays.

I knew I was getting close to Pamplona when I could see the massive fireworks display exploding in the distance. The show was impressive and went on for at least 30 minutes.

During San Fermin, Pamplona is a town overrun by locals and tourists partying. Hard. Many of the streets are shut down so I didn't have a definite plan. Well, I did. My plan was: get as close to the bull ring as I could, then find a parking garage with space and try not to hit anyone. I was successful on all accounts.

I found a parking garage less than 1 km from the bull ring (the end of the bull run). There were people partying everywhere. And in true San Fermin fashion, the majority of people had on the traditional white outfit and red bandana.

I walked around the town some on Friday night. There were so many people out that it was hard to walk around. While I was walking I was texting with Jess and I asked her if everyone is so drunk and stays up so late, how they could wake up super early the next morning to see the bull run. She gave me the (now) obvious answer which is that the average reveler stays up all night. I don't think it's that hard since the street bars seem to be open all night and throughout the bull run in the morning.

Well, I'm not your average reveler. It takes a lot of beauty sleep to keep my hair looking as good as it does so I slept in my car from 1:00am - 5:30am. It was hot and uncomfortable, but it gave me the freedom to come and go as I pleased without having to worry about a hotel. And it only cost me 15 euros in parking fees.

In the morning, I was back up walking towards the bull ring by 6:00am. I was pretty shocked at how many people were still running around at that time. Basically, it looked the same as it did when I went to bed.

Throughout the night the city workers had been erecting the wooden barriers in the streets along the course. They left several sections open so the people could flow in, out, and around without being obstructed. Around 7:30am the police officers guarding the wooden fences closed everything off and forced people to choose if they were going to remain in the bull running path or if they would leave and retreat behind the barriers. There was no "hopping in and out" like I thought there would be. You were either in or you were out.

Starting around 6:30am, I found a spot along the side near the beginning section of the run. There were several impromptu Spanish (or Basque?) songs that were occasionally sung but in general we all just stood there. People continued to drink and party but they did so in place so they would be able to see the action.

At 8:00am the first rocket went off and everyone got really anxious. The runners just stood in the path and waited for the first sign of people running towards them and the bulls chasing them.

Then they ran and the bulls passed them.

And then it was done. By 8:05am I was curious if it was over or if there were more bulls on the way. It was over.

After that I found some coffee and walked around the city a little bit but it was basically destroyed with party litter. What was a little more interesting was watching the revelers slowly wind down, eat breakfast and return to wherever they came from. I can only assume people sleep during the day and then hit it again around dinner time.

When I returned to the parking garage people were already asleep on the floor of the parking garage near their cars. Yes, the floor of the parking garage. I bet that was awesome.

When I left Pamplona, and drove north towards the coast, it was getting colder and then started to rain. There were a few police checkpoints checking for licenses, paperwork, and no alcohol but I was never selected to pull over. That's nice. I was in the rental care but I still don't want to have to answer questions from the national police in my ridiculously bad Spanish. That wouldn't be fun for anyone.

I rolled into San Sebastian an hour and half later. The north coast is pretty amazing. The mountains look like the Boulder foothills but everything is so green. There is green everywhere. It looks like pictures of the northwest coast of the United States.

And like the northwest of the U.S. it was raining. San Sebastian seems like a really cool town. It is equal parts beach surf town, hippy mountain town, and chic metropolitan area. I did a lot of walking around but the rain sort of ruined it. The rain didn't stop people from surfing though. In fact, there were some people at the beach. They reminded me of people in Sweden who pretend the weather is nice even when it's not. It's all mental I suppose. It's been sunny and over 100 F everyday since Jess left so I wasn't mentally prepared for the weather. When I left town it was 55 F and raining.

I headed southwest towards the town of Burgos which is almost straight north of Madrid. I didn't really have a solid plan but Burgos seemed like a fine choice. I briefly entertained the idea of driving straight west until I hit Portugal but that would've taken a long time and after the night before, I was more interested in sleeping in my own bed than I was in seeing Portugal. Sorry, Portugal.

As I drove south the terrain changed from green mountains to small foothills and huge wheat fields. There were combines harvesting wheat everywhere.

When I hit Burgos I did my usual routine of:

Using google maps to get to the city
Once there, aim for the city center and try not to hit anyone
Find a parking garage
Exit the parking garage, get my bearings and start walking

Well, I'll be honest, there's nothing going on in Burgos. I arrived in the city around 2:00pm and the place was a like a ghost town. I didn't need a parking garage because there was available on-street parking. I didn't see anything particularly interesting while I drove around so I parked next to a river and stretched out in the sun on a park bench.

Afterwards I walked to the Burgos Cathedral which is yet another ridiculously awesome cathedral. This is going to sound pretentious but we've seen many huge other-worldly cathedrals so I didn't really investigate it too deeply. Then I looked around for a cafe so I could get an espresso and go to the bathroom. I've found that to be an easier way to go to the bathroom in a strange city than to look for public toilets. And an espresso only costs 1.30 euro!

After I had my fill of Burgos I hit the road and took the A-1 highway all the way back to hot and sweaty Madrid. Driving was fun, but it would've been more fun as a family vacation.