In 2010 my sister and I traveled to Spain that took us from Madrid to Barcelona to Pamplona and back to Madrid. Other than Baja, Mexico (and British Columbia when I was very young), this was my first international trip. One of the main draws for Spain was the famous Festival of San Fermin, also known as the Running of the Bulls. This week long festival in Pamplona draws thousands of locals and tourists for several days of drinking and running alongside large and powerful animals that could gore or trample you at any moment. Sounds like fun to me! While I enjoyed the architecture of Madrid, and the beaches and old town sections of Barcelona, running alongside the bulls remains one of the coolest experiences of my life. I remember the sound of the Chupinazo rocket going off that indicates the start of the festivities and the opening of the gates that release the first run of bulls. It is a feeling I will never forget. Surrounded by hundreds of people in the narrow corridors of the city streets, buildings feeling like they are closing in on you, you begin to hear yells and cheers (and maybe a scream or two) as the six bulls stampede toward you. Blink and you will miss the bulls as dozens of brave souls crowd right next to them as they make their way down the 850m course to Plaza de Toros. If you’re lucky enough to to be close behind you will gain access to the stadium where a single bull is released into the ring while dozens of participants dodge and scurry away, charge after charge. That no one is seriously injured or trampled is pure luck. Many attempt to slap the hide of the bull if an opportunity presents itself. All this was going on against the backdrop of the World Cup, which Spain eventually won. The atmosphere was tremendously lively: everyone dressed in white with red scarves tied securely somewhere on their body, drinking wine in the street as they danced, sang, cheered, and chatted. A wonderful experience that I got to experience it with my sister.
