San Fermin Festival/Running with the bulls

After 1 amazingly comfortable nights sleep in 24 Bellevue Crescent it was time to jump on a plane to Barcelona in preparation for the San Fermin Festival/Running of the bulls. After a delay of an hour and a half we finally boarded around 10.30pm. With minimal sleep compared to the Spanish onbaord who have perfected the art of siestas and falling asleep on planes we arrived in Barcelona at around 1.30am. We found ourselves a great little spot for a few hours of shuteye..... well we thought we did. I swear someone was against us sleeping and was having a blast watching us through the security cameras. The aircon got turned up full bore so we were freezing, the cleaners decided to come right up to us with there little racing cleaner cars, security slammed the door every 10minutes and the concrete floor felt more like a bed of nails. Come 6.00am we gave up and caught a train into the city in order to catch another train to Pamplona.

Good morning...

With no breakfast, no sleep and no common sense we decided that breakfast was more important than booking bus tickets. Boys will be boys. After being told that every bus was completely full to Pamplona we decided to try the trains... The man behind the desk says the following..."Pamplona?? No. Not today! Tomorrow... Yes. But not today!" Arggh! So with no way of getting to Pamplona today unless we forked out 80 euros to catch 2 different trains I called on a mate from Warrnambool who I knew was hiring a car and driving from Barcelona to Pamplona. Penny came to the rescue!! After waiting for around 2 hours for their car to turn up we squished our backpacks in the boot and crammed 5 of us into a little beast of a car. Somehow we took the scenic route to Pamplona.... Normally it is around 4.5 hours drive but we took about 8! It was such a beautiful drive and I never knew how mountainous Spain really was. The girls handled the first bit of driving whilst we caught up on some slee. Isaac thrived on the rally driving through the most twistiest roads you have ever seen and I drove the last stretch to our campsite 40kms out of Pamplona. Thankyou Penny, Sheridan and Mia for the lift or else we would be having another sleepless night in Barcelona.

Isaac and I had joined a TopDeck tour for the San Fermin festival as it appeared to be the easiest way to get accomodation. To be honest... it was pretty average and unorganised. Camping was alot of fun but late buses home and 5.00am starts to get good positions to see the bull runs we were soon over sleeping on air mattresses. The festival itself was unbelievable! The opening ceremony sees 20 000 people crammed into the main square - pretty much a huge mosh pit. After the mayor releases the rocket to start the festival sangria, champagne, wine, coke and whatever liquid you have is squirted into the air creating one big alcohol fight. Crazy. Following this it is fiesta time and the streets are filled with marching bands, flags, drunken Spaniards, dickhead Australians, families, children and plenty of smiles. The traditional dress (white and red) is worn by everyone making it a brilliant spectacle. But after litres of sangria being thrown around the place you can imagine that our whites didn't stay particularly white for long.

12 noon - Let the Fiesta begin!!!!!




Sangria stained and ready to go..



Contiki reunion. Isaac and I ran into about 25 people we knew. I swear half of Australia was in Spain!

Sangria sacks/Sangria squirters! Great investment!

Day 2 sees the first bull run where mainly locals run. We secured a good position in the arena to watch the bulls and humans come through the main gates. Why do people run with the bulls is probably what you are thinking...? Well back in the day the Bulls needed to be transported from their pens to the bull ring in order to be executed. Usually people would run behind them but one day a few daredevils decided to run in front of the bulls. And from there, well stupidity kicked in and everyone now thinks its a great idea to get in the way of a 650kg beast with 2 extremely sharp daggers.

I promise you I am awake.. The view from the bull ring onto the running track.

I have to confess... In a moment of stupidity Isaac and myself decided we would try out the tradition of running with the bulls. After about 4 hours sleep we must thank our bodies for producing enough adrenalin to get us out of the way of these beasts. We survived, no cuts, no grazes, just a terrible noise of cow bells haunting our minds as these things flew past us . Stupid, stupid, stupid. Don't do it. Sorry mum.

The next night we were lucky enough to see Spain smash Germany in the World Cup semi final. A huge big screen in another main area of town that was completely packed. When Spain scored it was as though the fiesta had been injected with 1000 red frogs. Thankgod they didn't lose is all I can say!!


Our position for the game - absolutely packed and so hot!



Such an awesome atmosphere



Espana! Let the celebrations begin!



Street performers stopped their work for the game!


The following night we headed to see another traditional event, the bull fights. We scored some free tickets off a disgusted American couple after 3 of the bulls had been executed. Entering the stadium was more like entering Bay 13 on acid. This place was going completely off! Most had turned their attention to sangria and food fights rather than watching the bull fights. Anyhow after watching 2 bulls get brutally killed and 3 aussie lads get dragged out of the stadium by some angry Spanish we had definetly had enough. We left the arena feeling a bit depressed as I definetly couldn't see how the locals get so excited over the killing of such an awesome creature. Animal cruelty....yes....but to the Spaniards it is also a culturally important tradition.

After every party there is always the damn clean up!

This was such an amazing festival. 9 days straight of nothing but celebrations. I would definetly come back and do it all again... minus the bull run and minus the bull fights.

Thankyou San Fermin!!!!