6 July 2008- Chad and I woke up early to catch the first train out of Paris to Pamplona, Spain. It took us 5 hours to get to Irun, the border of Spain. Irun, the alleged sight where my father claims to have traded in his French girlfriends for Spanish ones. We had a lovely lunch in Irun (ordering in French and spanish mix to our Basque waitress) and found a bar with cheap beers and a grumpy bartender to kill our time until our train. Spain is on the unfortunate list of countries that still allow smoking indoors so not the best time had in a bar. But on the train was an electric feeling. Being July 6, the beginning of the San Fermin festival was early in the day. We got off the train to crowds of white and red. People had come in from Madrid and other cities for the opening ceremonies. Everyone was in white and red, taxi drivers, children and even dogs. Not so white after the showers of sangria pour down on them. Most of the crew (12 total) we were there with were in shades of pink and purple for the event that made them travel around the world, the Encierro or running of the bulls. By the way, we ate a Mexican food restaurant and instructed the waitress on putting lime in the neck of your beer. Buenos noches!
San Fermin is the reason for the festival, not just the running of the bulls. We caused quite a stir attending the procession of the San Fermin reliquary. Not too many visitors take the opportunity. So it was 8 of us watching this parade with about 10,000 locals. I just thought we should see what it is that started this whole crazy bull running madness back in the 16th century. The guy beside us told us that the song during the procession is sacred. He was very touched that our sangria soaked crew would take the time to attend the event. Imagine a street full of people, balconies full of people and us and yet silence for this song. Goose bumps were raised on my arms. We were thanked afterwards.
7 July 2008 Here is the money shot. Too bad the others in our crew dissuaded me into not bringing the good camera to the first bull running into the arena. Several cameras had already bitten the dust on day one due to sangria and beer soakings. I didn't want to chance it but still got the shot off with the little trusty point and shoot. We had the box seats for the bullring event. At 8 am, a rocket is launched and they let 6 steers and 6 bulls on the street. Loonies run or try to run with them. July 7th run took 4 minutes for the bulls to run just over 1/2 mile into the arena. Fast even for us just sitting in the stands watching this craziness. The arena experience was fun. Watching the rocket go off and seeing people instantly run in. Suckers, you didn't really run with the bulls. Then you see streams of people, then you see more runners and notice the faces of the runners with abject terror and the steers (huge beasts themselves) come running in with their black unfixed counterparts. This guy didn't see this one coming. The average weight of the bulls was well over 500 kg. No one was gored this day. Good since 3 of the crew chose today as their day to run. One even got immortalized in a picture in the Navarran newspaper. Key to that - wear something that makes you stand out in the sea of red and white. Just a simple bandana on the head was all it took to make him obvious in world's fastest game of Where's Waldo.
After the bulls and clean up crew steers make it in, another rocket is launched. The arena is full of crazy people milling around. Now they let out a young bull, for everyone to play with. To start this off, to prove how macho you are, you kneel or sit down right in front of the gate for the bull to jump over you. These baby bulls as we refered to them were still several hundred pounds but their horns are corked so no gorings can occur. You can still get black and blue from one of these coming at you. One of them got annoyed and gave the crowd something to cheer about. He jumped over the first "safety" railing. This is the first wall the arena runners jump over to get to "safety." They were jumping as quickly back over that fence as they did to start. Rule number one for the arena- don't follow the saying of "grabbing the bull by its horns." Gets you whistled at, humililated and beat up. Just get out of the way. More like "stop drop and roll." This continues for about 5 minutes for about 5 different bulls. The best part was when the steer was released to round up the little guy. Everyone in the arena is looking for the little guy but then this FRANK the Tank is released and no one is looking for him. He won't go after you but can easily take you down with his sheer size. Several people got knocked over by this gentle beast.
Plenty of ham sandwiches, giant bottles of really bad beer and cartons of sangria were consumed on this day. "I think I have eaten about 27 ham sandwiches since coming to Spain" was the quote of the day. The sunglass sellers made a killing on our group alone. "Muchas gaffas del sol" was a nickname given. "J Lo" too since one unfortunate lad drunkenly bought girl glasses. Chad and I tried to escape (sangria showers from well meaning friends) to walk the course but there was another procession going around. We gave up and left the city center for our hotel by 10pm. Another 5am alarm was waiting for us tomorrow.
8 July 2008- We watched the second encierro from the safety of the arena (down a bit but still far enough away from the "safety area." Today 5 of the crew said their prayers and went inside the encierro barriers. In total the non-runners were the 3 girls and Chad. I told him he was my hero because after seeing the nonsense in the bullring the day before, I was very glad he was at my side. The runners from today commented that it was just terrifying. At any moment, the bull could just turn his head and down you go. Not as much excitement in the arena today but the drunken couple next to us sleeping through the entire entrance of the bulls. I mean full out passed cold on the bleachers next to us. We met the triumphant runners at our favorite meeting spot, the Encierro statue and returned to the hotel to check out and continue on with our Spanish getaway. Lucky for us our hotel was outside of town a bit. Our grocery store was open, much of business shuts down in Pamplona to avoid the crazys. Supplies were bought for our 7 hour train journey. We had late arrivers, really we did think we were going to be a select few on the way to Barcelona. This is where having a cell phone really spoils you for finding people. Even better than having a working international cell phone, having the number to the phone!
Peek-A-Bull. This guy was everywhere in Pamplona. Might have even been on the balcony where my father watched his first encierro 40 years ago. To keeping up the family tradition of being an alive observer, Salut! Vamos a Barcelona!
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