While I was at the hotel, wondering about Ernest’s whereabouts and what he might be up to, a Pamplona man named David approached me, asking if I was all right. I explained the situation to him and he explained that Pamplona is a small city, so I didn’t have to worry. Eventually the lost colleague was sure to show up.
To make me relax, he proposed me to enjoy a sacred tradition for the people of Pamplona in their festivities: the vermouth.
David had arranged to meet his gang at a bar in San Nicolás, but as I was in a hurry, we decided to meet directly at the bar. To find them, I had to look for the only bar on the street with a guard at the door 24 hours/365 days a year, who never gets wet or cold.