Information on the whens and the wheres for this trip were not as easily located as I’d hoped but after some deep digging and oodles of patience I found most of what I needed to plan our trip on the official website for the region of Navarra. It took a decent amount of planning to map out where we wanted to stay in order to be a short drive away from all of our points of interest but trust me, valió la pena!

We arrived to our apartment in the tiny town of Alkotz, just north of Pamplona, late in the afternoon on what we would call “Thoth Sunday” in New Orleans. Our hosts Ester and her husband along with their band of Australian Shepherds welcomed us into their recently renovated farmhouse. Ester’s husband is an iron worker and carpenter and did most of the work on the building himself, the level of love and care put into the rooms and the building itself was evident. We settled into our cozy space by lighting a fire, cooking dinner, and finalizing our master plan for the next couple of days.

There is a vast network of hiking trails in the region and since Monday was not officially a holiday, therefore, no raucousness was to ensue we set out for a hike from the town of Erratzu , a stone’s throw from the French border. The town is charming with interesting architecture, characteristic of the area and the trail we chose, an easy one amongst the sloping hills. After a short walk through farmland you encounter a small river that will guide you along your path up to a waterfall. This is where we stopped off for a picnic and rest. We circled back the way we came making a sort of half loop but ending up on the same path we started on towards the end. Upon returning to Erratzu we still had some daylight to burn so we decided to squeeze in another hike closer to Alkotz and Lantz. It was slightly more challenging with some steep climbs at certain parts but rewarding for the panoramic views of the Pyrenees. The light started to fade about an hour into our second hike of the day along a river in the Valle de Baztan, forcing the decision to turn back earlier then we would have liked but giving us a reason to return one day.

Tuesday we woke up excited for what was in store for us. We were still a little confused as to when things would kick off though, the websites for both Navarra and Lantz were fairly vague and sometimes with conflicting information. Thankfully we had Ester, our host and regional expert. She recommended that we try to park on the main road and walk the smaller one into town to avoid traffic but once we arrived at the turnoff for Lantz it appeared to be clear so we carried on. That year there was clearly marked, free parking just ahead of the town’s entrance making it much less chaotic than we had been led to believe previous years were. We arrived around midday, just in time to catch the main event.

The legend in Lantz is that local villagers, called Txatxuak, must capture Miel Otxin, the villain in their story, and his half man, half horse partner, Zaldiko because they have attacked and threatened Ziripot, a beloved storyteller of the town. To hear the tale is one thing but to watch it play out is another. Miel Otxin, who looks like a barrel of hay wrapped in burlap, comes hobbling out with his band of lookalikes. Following shortly after are the Txatxuak dressed in what seems to be colorful rags and floral bedsheets, wearing matching conical hats with lace covering their faces masking their identities.

Quick side note- the Txatxuak look eerily similar to the costumed revelers of Cajun Country Mardi Gras in Louisiana. That is story for another time though.

The Txatxuak come flooding out of the local bar with their brooms in hand ready to take down Miel Otxin. They hit spectators on their legs with their brooms as the rush past in search of the villains. Everyone in the crowd brings up the rear and meets in the town square for dancing, revelry, drinking and eating. We had the delight of trying taloa for the first time, a Basque corn flatbread, not unlike a Mexican corn tortilla but made with untreated cornmeal. The women selling them at their stall (cash only!) had options, stuffing them with cheese, chistora, bacon, or some combination of all of the above. For those with a sweet-tooth, a melty chocolate bar wrapped in a warm taloa is a treat.

From Lantz we travelled west towards Altsasu where a darker, more sinister mythology is prevalent. The Momotxorroak stalk the streets of the town wearing sheepskins on their back (most of which were real) with their arms and hands covered in “blood”, gigantic horns and horse hair crowning their head. The story goes that the Lucifer like character, Akerra, presides over the fearful, dancing momotxorros who are meant to intimidate the onlooking villagers with their big, wooden pitchforks. The scene wouldn’t be complete without some sorginak wandering amongst the crowd of characters. Being so close to where the Navarra Witch Trials occurred in the early 1500s it is easy to understand why covens might still exist here. See what I mean about folklore and magic here? We followed the procession of witches and sheep pelts to the town’s center where we snacked on torrada, a Basque version of french toast, and watched the momotxorros chase frightened children while howling like banshees.

We ended the evening early no thanks to some seasonal rain showers and returned to our toasty little apartment in Alkotz. We would be waking up early on Ash Wednesday to make the drive to nearby San Sebastián in hopes of celebrating Txotx, the cider season that commences on January 20th every year.