“At noon we were all at the cafe. It was crowded. We were eating shrimps and drinking beer. The town was crowded. Every street was full.” – Hemingway
With so much excitement from the run, it is easy to forget that it is barely 0830!
The day evolves, the food and drink continue to make themselves plentiful, the bands strike up the tunes, and the festival gains momentum. Wandering around the streets in the morning, the rest of the city is beginning to wake up. We drove to purchase our tickets we had reserved in the Sol Section, and then walked around the city.
Making our way back through the town to the Plaza de los Toros, we quickly became immersed in the festivities once again.
“In bull-fighting they speak of the terrain of the bull and the terrain of the bull-fighter. As long as a bull-fighter stays in his own terrain he is comparatively safe. Each time he enters into the terrain of the bull he is in great danger. Belmonte, in his best days, worked always in the terrain of the bull. This way he gave the sensation of coming tragedy.” – Ernest Hemingway
We made our way to the stadium, hoping to immerse ourselves in as wild a scene as possible. We sat in the ‘Sol’ seats, which are in the sunlight, and (closer to the direct center it becomes more intense) result in showers of red wine, Peñas playing loud music with their brass instruments, and a more festive and local environment. We weren’t let down. Our neighbors quickly became friends and were able to give us a play-by-play on what each event entailed from the different fights. The hospitality of the Spanish people is second to none. The fight began, and the different bulls met their demise. It was a brutal sight to witness, but as part of their culture, this is something that must be seen in person to be understood. The bull engages in a true fight with the bull-fighter, despite the weakening blows he sustains prior to the 1-on-1 contest. The bulls very nearly can become victorious, and evading the kill shots earns the bull a comfortable life. The life they live leading up to the fights is also better than the way most human beings on the planet live… complete pampered and every need catered to. During our fight, the fighter was swept off of his feet by a bull, and narrowly escaped a tragic fate, but rose to his feet, trousers ripped, and slayed the bull… all while fully exposed from the waist-down. The bravado and machismo of the culture is fascinating to observe.
A bull-fighter in another fight the next day did not escape so luckily, and was skewered by a bull’s horn piercing his chest and died instantly.
“A headache and the noise of the bands going by in the street” – Hemingway
Following the bull-fight, the fiesta resumes, and spills out into the streets of the walled city. Peñas march through the town, playing their instruments, and revelers watch and enjoy the spectacles of the festival… the party will continue this way for a full week, with no end. There is nothing else on the planet like it.
Burn, you the real MVP. 100% fun 0% sleep. Be prepared for a non-stop adventure, when you get to San Fermin.
In case you missed it… we actually ran with the bulls! Read about it in Part 1.