Bulls Before Breakfast and Before Dinner- Pamplona 2010
Jul 31st, 2010, 01:29 PM
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Bulls Before Breakfast and Before Dinner- Pamplona 2010
Recently returned from a nine-night trip to northern Spain to see Pamplona and the famous running of the bulls. My father's a big Hemingway fan and it's been a life long dream of his to see the bull runs. At 74 he finally realized his dream! I’m listening to “Music and Sounds of the Bullfight” CD as I write…
We flew into Bilboa on 7/3/10 via Air France (connecting in de Gaulle). I flew the new "Premium Voyageur" class on Air France and if I could do it over again I'd pay the extra $700 and go full business class. At $2,300, the premium voyageur seat was little more than a glorified coach seat. Since I'm a plus-sized traveler I want a more spacious seat, but I really missed the more private, lie-flat seats that BA has in its business class.
We arrived in Bilbao in the early afternoon and took the bus to the coastal resort cit of San Sebastian, where we planned to stay 2 nights before heading to Pamplona. The bus for San Sebastian is directly outside the terminal and it takes 1 hour and 15 minutes. The cost is about 14 euro per person. After a long trans Atlantic flight the bus ride was a pleasure as there were few people on it and the route took us through beautiful countryside that reminded my father of his native Norway.
SAN SEBASTIAN: In San Sebastian we stayed at the venerable Hotel Londres y Inglaterra, which is located directly on the La Concha beach. The location is perfect and at about 230 euro a night that's what we were paying for as the rooms were small and unimpressive. The service wasn't all that great either; the reception staff didn't greet us and despite being loaded down with luggage nobody offered to assist us to our rooms. But, again, it's location, location, location.
Despite only really having 1 day and 2 nights in San Sebastian, we loved the city. On Sunday a major rowing competition took place in the bay. It was a live, televised event and drew huge crowds of spectators all along the waterfront. We spent the rest of Sunday exploring the old castile perched high above the entrance to the bay, wandering through the English cemetery, with its headstones of fallen officers killed in the Napoleonic wars, and taking in the fabulous views. Each morning we had cafe con leche and croissants at Cafe Rojo y Negro and reveled in the great mixed salads that Spain serves up at lunch time.
On Monday, 7/5 we checked out and went to the bus terminal to catch a coach to Pamplona. We had thought about getting our tickets early but kind of forgot about it. That was a mistake as it was a mad rush for Pamplona at the bus terminal. We also discovered that you can't always purchase tickets on the bus as we'd done a few times in Madrid on excursions to Segovia and Toledo. BUY YOUR BUS TICKETS AHEAD OF TIME! With the huge crowds, every seat on every bus heading for Pamplona was taken. There was a lot of confusion as there were multiple buses heading for Pamplona. A thoughtful elderly Spanish lady came and took us to the right bus; she was heading to Pamplona, too and noticed our confusion. (I got the impression that it didn't really matter if you were on bus #1, 2, or 3, so long as your ticket said Pamplona and the right departure time because the drivers didn't look very closely at the tickets.) The ride to Pamplona was one hour.
PAMPLONA: In Pamplona we stayed at the Hotel Leyre, which technically is just outside the old quarter but was in a perfect location. Step outside the hotel and you can see the bullring just steps away. Since everything about San Fermin pretty much revolves around the bulls and the bullring, the hotel was perfect. I had booked our rooms in mid-February and that was cutting it close as everything in the old quarter was already taken. I booked a double (two twins) and a single. Please note that prepayment was required for the entire length of the stay. No deposit-only here. The rates were 320 euro a night for the double and slightly less for the single, except for the first night, which was much lower because the fesitval didn’t technically start until the next day. I honestly don’t know if there’s a refund policy or not. Definitely check the rules before you book for San Fermin so you don’t get a shock should you need to cancel reservations.
Monday, 7/5: 1st Day/Night in Pamplona: After a nice long lunch we simply wandered about the old quarter to familiarize ourselves with the town. At night we noticed that there was activity outside the bullring, which suggested there was some sort of bullfight forthcoming. I was surprised, as I had thought nothing started until the San Fermin festival actually kicked off. As we stood among the crowd not really knowing what was going on somebody came up to us and in Spanish said something and handed us two tickets. He indicated we should go in . Both my father and I were a bit reluctant as we weren't sure if it was some sort of scam, but we decided to see where the tickets led us and it turns out we got fantastic tickets, in the first row of the Grada section, which is the second tier just above the tendidos, but still on the lower level and not in the balcony. Once the bullfight kicked off I guessed that the fight featured novilleros, or apprentice bullfighters going up against younger bulls, as the matadors were all very young and made too many mistakes to be experienced professionals. The lower weight of the bulls, posted on the electronic board, was another give away. But it was fun and colorful (and free!) and a great way to end a first day in Pamplona. Muchas gracias to the man who gave us the tickets!
Tuesday, 7/6: 2nd Day in Pamplona: The big event on 7/6 is the Chupinzao, or the launching of the San Fermin Festival, which begins at noon by the firing of a rocket at the City Hall. After breakfast my father and I made our way to the City Hall and arrived a little after 10:00 a.m. The plaza was already filling up with people. We could have stayed, but neither of us felt we could stand for 2 or more hours and we also knew we’d never be able to get OUT of there if there should be any need to once the huge crowds arrived and crammed into that little square. We made our way back to the Plaza del Castillo, the main plaza in Pamplona, and decided to sit at one of the tables at an outdoor café. As the crowds began to grow and tables filled we realized we had one of the better seats in town and decided to stay put. We ordered a couple bottles of wine, cerveza, and water and tipped the waiter so as to not overstay our welcome. By the time the noon kick off arrived the plaza was filled to capacity and it was standing room only. Once the rocket that signals the start of San Fermin was blasted off, everyone took out their panuelos, or red neckerchiefs, and held them up above their heads as they sang a traditional festival opening song. It was a great sight and a lot of fun to see everyone dressed in red and white getting into the spirit of the festival and spraying everyone with wine.
In the afternoon we stopped by the bullring and purchased tickets to that evening’s bullfight on horseback, which featured world-class/famous rejoneros such as Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza and Fermin Bojorquez as well as Sergio Galan. Tickets to bullfights are difficult to get. We got some of the few remaining tickets; last row in the balcony for 28 euro each. However, both my Dad and I thought the seats were fine. There was nobody sitting behind us and we had the wall behind us to rest our backs against. The bullring isn’t that big, so we were able to see everything fine. My photos weren’t that great as my little camera doesn’t zoom all that well, but we had no problems enjoying or seeing the entire event from our seats. Of the 3 bullfights we would see during this trip, this was undoubtedly the highlight. The atmosphere was fantastic; the weather was gorgeous (the heatwave would start the next day), the horses exquisite, and the riders so handsome in their Spanish cowboy outfits.
Unlike with a regular bullfight, here the horses and magnificent horsemanship were the stars and there was constant action because two animals were facing off against each other. Each rider went through at least 3 horses, one for each stage of the bullfight. We speculated that the changes were necessary because the horses were either tired or were specially trained for certain stages of the fight. During Sergio Galan’s performance, early on he signaled for a change out of his horse so he used 4 horses during the performance. We could not see an injury or anything wrong with the horse, but obviously the expert rider sensed that his horse was not performing properly. Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza was definitely the best and my favorite moment was when he had his horse face the bull head on; as the two animals confronted each other and did their dangerous “dance”, the horse reached out and bit the bull on his neck! The crowd roared its approval! All three riders cut ears (trophies for good performances) and were carried around and out of the ring on the shoulders of supporters. The write up in the next morning’s newspaper (we bought papers each morning to save the photos and articles about the encierros and bullfights we’d seen) described the evening in glowing terms and highlighted the “magnificent ambiance” in the bullring, from the entire crowd, not just certain segments. Everybody obviously enjoyed themselves and the crowd seemed more like true afficionados rather than the noisy penas that would show up at the bullfight the next night.
Wednesday, 7/7: 3rd Day in Pamplona: The first encierro, or bull run, of the fiesta! This is what we came for and we had booked a shared balcony through Iberian Traveler, a Seattle-based travel agency that specializes in the San Fermin Festival. The cost was $375 USD for two, which was all pre-paid. We met the guide at 6:15 am in at the Tres Reyes Hotel and she led us through the old quarter and along the bull run route to our apartment with a balcony on the second floor. There were 8 of us in the group and all Americans. The guide was very pleasant and explained some of the finer points of the run. The fun in having a balcony was watching the preparations for the run, including seeing the line of police push back the runners to a specific spot, the clean-up crew try and remove or pick-up anything on the path that could cause a runner to fall, and seeing the alcaldesa, or mayor who happens to be female, walk the path to ensure that everything is ok just before the run. Inside the apartment there was a TV showing the run and when the bulls were released everything happened, and was over, very fast. The bulls ran by and it was exciting, but if you blinked you would have missed it. A second group of steers came by after the first group and I couldn’t even get a shot off from my camera in time. Poof! They came and they went. After the run we all gathered around the TV to watch the replays and interviews with runners and medical staff describing any injured runners. On this particular run, the entire encierro lasted only a few minutes. The bulls basically stayed together and headed right into their pens at the bullring. There were no significant injuries. After the encierro we simply wandered around soaking up the sights and sounds. In the afternoon we stopped by the bullring and purchased tickets to that evening’s bullfight. If you need bullfight tickets, don’t worry. Ticket scalpers will approach you! You don’t have to seek them out. If you don’t care about the location of the seats, try the box office first and, if sold out, wait for a scalper to approach. But make sure you have some idea of the seating plan of the bullring, and what the face value of the ticket is.
The bullfight in the evening featured experienced professionals such as Diego Urdiales and Luis Bolivar. Our tickets were in the upper balcony section, but not the last row, which we would have preferred so as to be able to rest our backs. This was the first day of a major heatwave; the temperature had risen from 23/24 degrees Celsius the day before to 41 degrees Celsius. It was very hot, very humid, and very uncomfortable. My father did not make it to the actual bullfight. Before it even started he had to get out; he was feeling very ill. I believe he had a touch of heat exhaustion and when I returned after the unmemorable bullfight (no ears cut at all) he was feeling better, having had a cold shower and nap. It’s important to remember that the summer sun in Spain can be brutal and cool clothing and a hat, preferably with a wide brim, are a must. My father hates wearing hats, but I made him do so for the rest of the trip to ensure he’d been safe from the sun and heat.
Thursday, 7/8: 4th Day in Pamplona: At the same time I had purchased tickets for the bullfight on horseback the day before I had also purchased tickets for this morning’s encierro, which for 5 euro gives me access to the grada section of the bullring to watch the bulls and runners come into the ring. After the bulls are in their pens, female bulls or vaquillas/cows (not sure exactly what their proper name is) with padding over their horn tips are released into the ring to “play” with the crowds. The people try to jump over the cow, some play matador with their jackets and try to do an improvised faena, others seem to try to get tossed by the cow. She’s not nearly as big and strong as the bulls, but despite her slimmer frame she can toss a grown man like a rag doll. Because the horns are topped with foam, few get seriously injured, but some are knocked unconscious and have to be taken from the ring. We saw only a few females in the ring; one got bulldozed by the cow and she was clearly dazed and semi-coherent.
In the evening, mostly because of the extreme heat, we decided to forgo the bullfight and just watch it in a bar next to our hotel. I wish I’d gone, because this bullfight featured a rare occurrence; while the last matador was performing, the other two were in the infirmary! The first matador, Francisco Marco, had been performing well when the bull suddenly went for him instead of following the lure, or cape and, in the process, literally cut off the matador’s ear! The entire ear was hanging down around the matador’s neck area by threads of tissue. The matador wasn’t screaming in pain; he appeared more in shock. His cuadrilla and other assistant matadors quickly carried him out of the ring to the infirmary. The next matador also got injured. At the moment of death when he went in for the kill the bull rose up and cut the matador’s hand, the hand he uses to drive in the sword. [This could be serious because the moment of death is the most dangerous moment for the matador. From what I’ve read, in order to kill properly, he must thrust the sword into a specific part of the bull’s neck and the only way to do it properly is to go over the top of the bull’s head. The matador must lure the bull one last time and get it to follow the red cape and dip it’s head (and horns!) down so the matador can thrust in the sword. If the bull doesn’t fall for the lure and rises up to strike the matador, his horns are now in a perfect position to be thrust into the matador’s exposed torso.] On most of the videos I’ve seen of injuries to matadors, they rarely display a lot of emotion. Don’t know if it’s shock or they’ve just learned to really control their pain. But this guy was seriously grimacing and you could tell he was in a lot of pain. The good news was that he wasn’t too seriously injured and was able to return to the ring after being patched up in the infirmary.
It was interesting to watch this unfold in the bar. When we first started watching the few other patrons and bar staff weren’t all that concerned with the fight. But when the matador got injured everyone suddenly became interested and the volume was turned up and everyone was glued to the TV. The bar seemed to fill with people in an instant. It was if they’d heard that a matador had been seriously injured and everybody just started pouring into the bar and watching and chatting.
Friday, 7/9: 5th day in Pamplona: Our last morning in Pamplona! Once again, we had purchased tickets for the encierro the day before, which granted us access to the grada section of the bullring to watch the runners and bulls come in. If you’re on a budget, skip the balcony rental and book your spot in the Grada section of the bullring. Show up no later than 7:00 am and get your seat. Bring a cup of coffee and a morning newspaper. Watch the brass band march in stand in the center of the bullring where they play what I assume where Spanish standards and possibly San Fermin-specific songs. The crowd joins in and sings along and it’s tremendously fun, even if you don’t speak Spanish or understand the lyrics. There was one piece that got the most reaction. As soon as the band struck up the chords the entire bullring erupted in song. At first it sounded something like, “Abilene” (as in Abilene, Texas!) in Spanish, but I now realize it might have been “San Fermin!” [PLEASE, if someone has any lyrics to the typical songs they sing at this festival, please post!] The young crowd that jams the lower-level tendido sections, which are free to the public, was especially fun this morning because two young fellows had brought their trumpets and they gave the official band a run for their money. They broke into typical trumpet sounds that you hear at bullfights, including the music that announces a bull’s entry into the ring for his fight.
[A note on the tendidos. Don’t sit there for the encierro. Pay your 5 euro. My father and I had tickets but we got swept up in the crowd as it entered the bullring and we just followed the crowd to the lower level tendido sections, not realizing we had tickets to the reserved section. AT first it didn’t seem too bad; we sat in the last row just in front of the walk way and were near the exit. But the crowd grew exponentially and soon the kids were sitting in the walkway. We decided to get out of there while we could and were glad we did. It wasn’t a safe place for an older person to be. If there’d been an emergency we could not have gotten out of that crowd. Once out we saw people with tickets like ours being allowed into the higher section. The crowds in the tendidos were dangerous and quite a few people tried to jump over the railing and get in the reserved section but were chased out by attendants. Those kids were crafty though. While an attendant was busy with one group of youths attempting to come over the other group would make a break for it. But those green beret-wearing attendants had eagle eyes and always seemed to know who had not come in through the door with a ticket and they offenders were kicked out. Dad and I had a blast just watching the cat and mouse game going on between the kids and the green berets. We supported those green berets because if they didn’t control the crowd our section would have been overrun like the lower section! Go green berets!]
Just before 8:00 am, watch the actual bull run on the two large screen TVs that are mounted in the ring. It’s fun to watch the run on the TV and then actually be there to cheer as the runners and bulls finally emerge from the tunnel and enter the ring. It was funny how early runners, those who’d obviously been way, way at the front of the pack and had been nowhere near any bulls, were jeered and mocked by the crowds when they entered the ring, but all in good fun.
This morning’s encierro was highlighted by one black bull deciding he just wasn’t going to go into his pen at the bullring. He got separated from the main pack and became disoriented. He swung around, tried to get through some of the wooden barricades along the route, and delayed the finish for about 10 minutes. Normally, if everything goes smoothly, the bulls enter their pens in just a few minutes. When the black bull finally emerged into the ring he got a huge round of applause. Finally, the third and last rocket of the morning was blasted off to signal that all the bulls that will be used in that evening’s fight are in their pens, and then the first of four vaquillas was released into the ring to play with the crowd. If you’re a runner and want to play with her, please learn the rules of decorum. We noticed how, when some runners held onto the horns of the cow the Spanish crowd strongly disapproved and other runners quickly ganged up on that person and appeared to dish out a dose of local, instant justice. Slapping the cow on the hindquarters with your rolled up newspaper was also a no-no and got the slapper a dose of shouts of “Tonto, tonto!” which I think means something like coward or stupid. Learn the official and unofficial rules before going into the ring so you don’t incur the ire of the locals or make a fool of yourself. Must say, if I’d been 20 years younger and in better shape, I would have loved to be with the cow. It looked like a lot of fun, but it appeared that the only persons in the ring were runners. I did not notice any of the ring crowd jump into the ring and join in the festivities. Don’t know if they are prohibited from entering the ring if they didn’t run the course with the bulls, or if they just didn’t want to.
BILBAO: After the encierro we returned to our hotel and checked out, making our bay on a direct bus to Bilbao (2 hour ride). We stayed at the Hotel Jardines in the old quarter. Bilbao was an ok city, with the old quarter being the best part, but the Guggenheim was a big disappointment. Sorry, modern art lovers, but the “art” was uninspiring. The actual museum structure was far more interesting than the stuff inside it. Even worse than the Tate Modern. (I just don’t find modern art inspiring or remotely interesting for the most part.) We took one interesting side trip, to GERNIKA, the city that was bombed to smithereens by the German Condor Legion during the Spanish Civil War and inspired Picasso to paint his famous eponymous canvas. The city, a 45-minute train ride away has a nice little museum, somewhat ironically called the Peace Museum. This museum uses the infamous bombing as a jumping off point to explore “peace” issues. I could have done without all the modern, liberal sensitivities that the museum pushed, such as equating peace with environmental concerns, but there were some worthwhile exhibits. The highlights of the museum are a recreation of Picasso’s painting that sits just above the staircase to the upper level and the amazing floor, which is made of transparent glass. Underneath the glass is the rubble from the bombing, including charred books, papers, broken bric-a-brac, etc. This floor was the most dramatic display in the entire museum and worth the trip alone. It was truly haunting to walk over this floor. You almost felt as if you had to watch where you stepped so you didn’t walk on someone’s family photo or other precious mementos damaged in the bombing.
On our last night in Bilbao before our flight back to the States, Spain won the World Cup soccer match. The celebrations in Bilbao were nothing like what we saw occurring in Madrid or other parts of Spain. A fellow guest inquired about places to watch the match and hotel staff didn’t have any recommendations. We did notice that all the restaurants completely shut down early, and we guessed it was so they owners and staff could go home and watch the match. But everything seemed more subdued here that what we saw on TV in terms of general revelry at the win.
We took an early flight out of Bilbao’s airport. We actually arrived too early. When our taxi drove up the airport looked closed and it was! Turns out the airport isn’t open 24/7 as we’re used to in big cities and we had to sit in the outside benches at the darkened terminal for 45 minutes before the lights came on and we could go inside. We did feel hotel staff, which checked us out and called us a taxi for the airport, should have known this and warned us. We would have hung out in our rooms if we’d known we’d be sitting in the dark for nearly and hour. But at least we weren’t the only ones who didn’t get the memo. A lone fellow traveler who appeared to be a tourist was already sitting there in the dark when we arrived and it wasn’t soon thereafter that Spaniards began arriving only to find the airport closed. The hours of operation must not have been that well known.
Had a pleasant flight home and we’ve already decided that we’re going back to Pamplona next year and this time we’ll stay for the entire festival and really enjoy the morning encierros and all the evening bullfights, and take some time to travel to the nearby Rioja wine region during the day. Can’t wait!
We flew into Bilboa on 7/3/10 via Air France (connecting in de Gaulle). I flew the new "Premium Voyageur" class on Air France and if I could do it over again I'd pay the extra $700 and go full business class. At $2,300, the premium voyageur seat was little more than a glorified coach seat. Since I'm a plus-sized traveler I want a more spacious seat, but I really missed the more private, lie-flat seats that BA has in its business class.
We arrived in Bilbao in the early afternoon and took the bus to the coastal resort cit of San Sebastian, where we planned to stay 2 nights before heading to Pamplona. The bus for San Sebastian is directly outside the terminal and it takes 1 hour and 15 minutes. The cost is about 14 euro per person. After a long trans Atlantic flight the bus ride was a pleasure as there were few people on it and the route took us through beautiful countryside that reminded my father of his native Norway.
SAN SEBASTIAN: In San Sebastian we stayed at the venerable Hotel Londres y Inglaterra, which is located directly on the La Concha beach. The location is perfect and at about 230 euro a night that's what we were paying for as the rooms were small and unimpressive. The service wasn't all that great either; the reception staff didn't greet us and despite being loaded down with luggage nobody offered to assist us to our rooms. But, again, it's location, location, location.
Despite only really having 1 day and 2 nights in San Sebastian, we loved the city. On Sunday a major rowing competition took place in the bay. It was a live, televised event and drew huge crowds of spectators all along the waterfront. We spent the rest of Sunday exploring the old castile perched high above the entrance to the bay, wandering through the English cemetery, with its headstones of fallen officers killed in the Napoleonic wars, and taking in the fabulous views. Each morning we had cafe con leche and croissants at Cafe Rojo y Negro and reveled in the great mixed salads that Spain serves up at lunch time.
On Monday, 7/5 we checked out and went to the bus terminal to catch a coach to Pamplona. We had thought about getting our tickets early but kind of forgot about it. That was a mistake as it was a mad rush for Pamplona at the bus terminal. We also discovered that you can't always purchase tickets on the bus as we'd done a few times in Madrid on excursions to Segovia and Toledo. BUY YOUR BUS TICKETS AHEAD OF TIME! With the huge crowds, every seat on every bus heading for Pamplona was taken. There was a lot of confusion as there were multiple buses heading for Pamplona. A thoughtful elderly Spanish lady came and took us to the right bus; she was heading to Pamplona, too and noticed our confusion. (I got the impression that it didn't really matter if you were on bus #1, 2, or 3, so long as your ticket said Pamplona and the right departure time because the drivers didn't look very closely at the tickets.) The ride to Pamplona was one hour.
PAMPLONA: In Pamplona we stayed at the Hotel Leyre, which technically is just outside the old quarter but was in a perfect location. Step outside the hotel and you can see the bullring just steps away. Since everything about San Fermin pretty much revolves around the bulls and the bullring, the hotel was perfect. I had booked our rooms in mid-February and that was cutting it close as everything in the old quarter was already taken. I booked a double (two twins) and a single. Please note that prepayment was required for the entire length of the stay. No deposit-only here. The rates were 320 euro a night for the double and slightly less for the single, except for the first night, which was much lower because the fesitval didn’t technically start until the next day. I honestly don’t know if there’s a refund policy or not. Definitely check the rules before you book for San Fermin so you don’t get a shock should you need to cancel reservations.
Monday, 7/5: 1st Day/Night in Pamplona: After a nice long lunch we simply wandered about the old quarter to familiarize ourselves with the town. At night we noticed that there was activity outside the bullring, which suggested there was some sort of bullfight forthcoming. I was surprised, as I had thought nothing started until the San Fermin festival actually kicked off. As we stood among the crowd not really knowing what was going on somebody came up to us and in Spanish said something and handed us two tickets. He indicated we should go in . Both my father and I were a bit reluctant as we weren't sure if it was some sort of scam, but we decided to see where the tickets led us and it turns out we got fantastic tickets, in the first row of the Grada section, which is the second tier just above the tendidos, but still on the lower level and not in the balcony. Once the bullfight kicked off I guessed that the fight featured novilleros, or apprentice bullfighters going up against younger bulls, as the matadors were all very young and made too many mistakes to be experienced professionals. The lower weight of the bulls, posted on the electronic board, was another give away. But it was fun and colorful (and free!) and a great way to end a first day in Pamplona. Muchas gracias to the man who gave us the tickets!
Tuesday, 7/6: 2nd Day in Pamplona: The big event on 7/6 is the Chupinzao, or the launching of the San Fermin Festival, which begins at noon by the firing of a rocket at the City Hall. After breakfast my father and I made our way to the City Hall and arrived a little after 10:00 a.m. The plaza was already filling up with people. We could have stayed, but neither of us felt we could stand for 2 or more hours and we also knew we’d never be able to get OUT of there if there should be any need to once the huge crowds arrived and crammed into that little square. We made our way back to the Plaza del Castillo, the main plaza in Pamplona, and decided to sit at one of the tables at an outdoor café. As the crowds began to grow and tables filled we realized we had one of the better seats in town and decided to stay put. We ordered a couple bottles of wine, cerveza, and water and tipped the waiter so as to not overstay our welcome. By the time the noon kick off arrived the plaza was filled to capacity and it was standing room only. Once the rocket that signals the start of San Fermin was blasted off, everyone took out their panuelos, or red neckerchiefs, and held them up above their heads as they sang a traditional festival opening song. It was a great sight and a lot of fun to see everyone dressed in red and white getting into the spirit of the festival and spraying everyone with wine.
In the afternoon we stopped by the bullring and purchased tickets to that evening’s bullfight on horseback, which featured world-class/famous rejoneros such as Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza and Fermin Bojorquez as well as Sergio Galan. Tickets to bullfights are difficult to get. We got some of the few remaining tickets; last row in the balcony for 28 euro each. However, both my Dad and I thought the seats were fine. There was nobody sitting behind us and we had the wall behind us to rest our backs against. The bullring isn’t that big, so we were able to see everything fine. My photos weren’t that great as my little camera doesn’t zoom all that well, but we had no problems enjoying or seeing the entire event from our seats. Of the 3 bullfights we would see during this trip, this was undoubtedly the highlight. The atmosphere was fantastic; the weather was gorgeous (the heatwave would start the next day), the horses exquisite, and the riders so handsome in their Spanish cowboy outfits.
Unlike with a regular bullfight, here the horses and magnificent horsemanship were the stars and there was constant action because two animals were facing off against each other. Each rider went through at least 3 horses, one for each stage of the bullfight. We speculated that the changes were necessary because the horses were either tired or were specially trained for certain stages of the fight. During Sergio Galan’s performance, early on he signaled for a change out of his horse so he used 4 horses during the performance. We could not see an injury or anything wrong with the horse, but obviously the expert rider sensed that his horse was not performing properly. Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza was definitely the best and my favorite moment was when he had his horse face the bull head on; as the two animals confronted each other and did their dangerous “dance”, the horse reached out and bit the bull on his neck! The crowd roared its approval! All three riders cut ears (trophies for good performances) and were carried around and out of the ring on the shoulders of supporters. The write up in the next morning’s newspaper (we bought papers each morning to save the photos and articles about the encierros and bullfights we’d seen) described the evening in glowing terms and highlighted the “magnificent ambiance” in the bullring, from the entire crowd, not just certain segments. Everybody obviously enjoyed themselves and the crowd seemed more like true afficionados rather than the noisy penas that would show up at the bullfight the next night.
Wednesday, 7/7: 3rd Day in Pamplona: The first encierro, or bull run, of the fiesta! This is what we came for and we had booked a shared balcony through Iberian Traveler, a Seattle-based travel agency that specializes in the San Fermin Festival. The cost was $375 USD for two, which was all pre-paid. We met the guide at 6:15 am in at the Tres Reyes Hotel and she led us through the old quarter and along the bull run route to our apartment with a balcony on the second floor. There were 8 of us in the group and all Americans. The guide was very pleasant and explained some of the finer points of the run. The fun in having a balcony was watching the preparations for the run, including seeing the line of police push back the runners to a specific spot, the clean-up crew try and remove or pick-up anything on the path that could cause a runner to fall, and seeing the alcaldesa, or mayor who happens to be female, walk the path to ensure that everything is ok just before the run. Inside the apartment there was a TV showing the run and when the bulls were released everything happened, and was over, very fast. The bulls ran by and it was exciting, but if you blinked you would have missed it. A second group of steers came by after the first group and I couldn’t even get a shot off from my camera in time. Poof! They came and they went. After the run we all gathered around the TV to watch the replays and interviews with runners and medical staff describing any injured runners. On this particular run, the entire encierro lasted only a few minutes. The bulls basically stayed together and headed right into their pens at the bullring. There were no significant injuries. After the encierro we simply wandered around soaking up the sights and sounds. In the afternoon we stopped by the bullring and purchased tickets to that evening’s bullfight. If you need bullfight tickets, don’t worry. Ticket scalpers will approach you! You don’t have to seek them out. If you don’t care about the location of the seats, try the box office first and, if sold out, wait for a scalper to approach. But make sure you have some idea of the seating plan of the bullring, and what the face value of the ticket is.
The bullfight in the evening featured experienced professionals such as Diego Urdiales and Luis Bolivar. Our tickets were in the upper balcony section, but not the last row, which we would have preferred so as to be able to rest our backs. This was the first day of a major heatwave; the temperature had risen from 23/24 degrees Celsius the day before to 41 degrees Celsius. It was very hot, very humid, and very uncomfortable. My father did not make it to the actual bullfight. Before it even started he had to get out; he was feeling very ill. I believe he had a touch of heat exhaustion and when I returned after the unmemorable bullfight (no ears cut at all) he was feeling better, having had a cold shower and nap. It’s important to remember that the summer sun in Spain can be brutal and cool clothing and a hat, preferably with a wide brim, are a must. My father hates wearing hats, but I made him do so for the rest of the trip to ensure he’d been safe from the sun and heat.
Thursday, 7/8: 4th Day in Pamplona: At the same time I had purchased tickets for the bullfight on horseback the day before I had also purchased tickets for this morning’s encierro, which for 5 euro gives me access to the grada section of the bullring to watch the bulls and runners come into the ring. After the bulls are in their pens, female bulls or vaquillas/cows (not sure exactly what their proper name is) with padding over their horn tips are released into the ring to “play” with the crowds. The people try to jump over the cow, some play matador with their jackets and try to do an improvised faena, others seem to try to get tossed by the cow. She’s not nearly as big and strong as the bulls, but despite her slimmer frame she can toss a grown man like a rag doll. Because the horns are topped with foam, few get seriously injured, but some are knocked unconscious and have to be taken from the ring. We saw only a few females in the ring; one got bulldozed by the cow and she was clearly dazed and semi-coherent.
In the evening, mostly because of the extreme heat, we decided to forgo the bullfight and just watch it in a bar next to our hotel. I wish I’d gone, because this bullfight featured a rare occurrence; while the last matador was performing, the other two were in the infirmary! The first matador, Francisco Marco, had been performing well when the bull suddenly went for him instead of following the lure, or cape and, in the process, literally cut off the matador’s ear! The entire ear was hanging down around the matador’s neck area by threads of tissue. The matador wasn’t screaming in pain; he appeared more in shock. His cuadrilla and other assistant matadors quickly carried him out of the ring to the infirmary. The next matador also got injured. At the moment of death when he went in for the kill the bull rose up and cut the matador’s hand, the hand he uses to drive in the sword. [This could be serious because the moment of death is the most dangerous moment for the matador. From what I’ve read, in order to kill properly, he must thrust the sword into a specific part of the bull’s neck and the only way to do it properly is to go over the top of the bull’s head. The matador must lure the bull one last time and get it to follow the red cape and dip it’s head (and horns!) down so the matador can thrust in the sword. If the bull doesn’t fall for the lure and rises up to strike the matador, his horns are now in a perfect position to be thrust into the matador’s exposed torso.] On most of the videos I’ve seen of injuries to matadors, they rarely display a lot of emotion. Don’t know if it’s shock or they’ve just learned to really control their pain. But this guy was seriously grimacing and you could tell he was in a lot of pain. The good news was that he wasn’t too seriously injured and was able to return to the ring after being patched up in the infirmary.
It was interesting to watch this unfold in the bar. When we first started watching the few other patrons and bar staff weren’t all that concerned with the fight. But when the matador got injured everyone suddenly became interested and the volume was turned up and everyone was glued to the TV. The bar seemed to fill with people in an instant. It was if they’d heard that a matador had been seriously injured and everybody just started pouring into the bar and watching and chatting.
Friday, 7/9: 5th day in Pamplona: Our last morning in Pamplona! Once again, we had purchased tickets for the encierro the day before, which granted us access to the grada section of the bullring to watch the runners and bulls come in. If you’re on a budget, skip the balcony rental and book your spot in the Grada section of the bullring. Show up no later than 7:00 am and get your seat. Bring a cup of coffee and a morning newspaper. Watch the brass band march in stand in the center of the bullring where they play what I assume where Spanish standards and possibly San Fermin-specific songs. The crowd joins in and sings along and it’s tremendously fun, even if you don’t speak Spanish or understand the lyrics. There was one piece that got the most reaction. As soon as the band struck up the chords the entire bullring erupted in song. At first it sounded something like, “Abilene” (as in Abilene, Texas!) in Spanish, but I now realize it might have been “San Fermin!” [PLEASE, if someone has any lyrics to the typical songs they sing at this festival, please post!] The young crowd that jams the lower-level tendido sections, which are free to the public, was especially fun this morning because two young fellows had brought their trumpets and they gave the official band a run for their money. They broke into typical trumpet sounds that you hear at bullfights, including the music that announces a bull’s entry into the ring for his fight.
[A note on the tendidos. Don’t sit there for the encierro. Pay your 5 euro. My father and I had tickets but we got swept up in the crowd as it entered the bullring and we just followed the crowd to the lower level tendido sections, not realizing we had tickets to the reserved section. AT first it didn’t seem too bad; we sat in the last row just in front of the walk way and were near the exit. But the crowd grew exponentially and soon the kids were sitting in the walkway. We decided to get out of there while we could and were glad we did. It wasn’t a safe place for an older person to be. If there’d been an emergency we could not have gotten out of that crowd. Once out we saw people with tickets like ours being allowed into the higher section. The crowds in the tendidos were dangerous and quite a few people tried to jump over the railing and get in the reserved section but were chased out by attendants. Those kids were crafty though. While an attendant was busy with one group of youths attempting to come over the other group would make a break for it. But those green beret-wearing attendants had eagle eyes and always seemed to know who had not come in through the door with a ticket and they offenders were kicked out. Dad and I had a blast just watching the cat and mouse game going on between the kids and the green berets. We supported those green berets because if they didn’t control the crowd our section would have been overrun like the lower section! Go green berets!]
Just before 8:00 am, watch the actual bull run on the two large screen TVs that are mounted in the ring. It’s fun to watch the run on the TV and then actually be there to cheer as the runners and bulls finally emerge from the tunnel and enter the ring. It was funny how early runners, those who’d obviously been way, way at the front of the pack and had been nowhere near any bulls, were jeered and mocked by the crowds when they entered the ring, but all in good fun.
This morning’s encierro was highlighted by one black bull deciding he just wasn’t going to go into his pen at the bullring. He got separated from the main pack and became disoriented. He swung around, tried to get through some of the wooden barricades along the route, and delayed the finish for about 10 minutes. Normally, if everything goes smoothly, the bulls enter their pens in just a few minutes. When the black bull finally emerged into the ring he got a huge round of applause. Finally, the third and last rocket of the morning was blasted off to signal that all the bulls that will be used in that evening’s fight are in their pens, and then the first of four vaquillas was released into the ring to play with the crowd. If you’re a runner and want to play with her, please learn the rules of decorum. We noticed how, when some runners held onto the horns of the cow the Spanish crowd strongly disapproved and other runners quickly ganged up on that person and appeared to dish out a dose of local, instant justice. Slapping the cow on the hindquarters with your rolled up newspaper was also a no-no and got the slapper a dose of shouts of “Tonto, tonto!” which I think means something like coward or stupid. Learn the official and unofficial rules before going into the ring so you don’t incur the ire of the locals or make a fool of yourself. Must say, if I’d been 20 years younger and in better shape, I would have loved to be with the cow. It looked like a lot of fun, but it appeared that the only persons in the ring were runners. I did not notice any of the ring crowd jump into the ring and join in the festivities. Don’t know if they are prohibited from entering the ring if they didn’t run the course with the bulls, or if they just didn’t want to.
BILBAO: After the encierro we returned to our hotel and checked out, making our bay on a direct bus to Bilbao (2 hour ride). We stayed at the Hotel Jardines in the old quarter. Bilbao was an ok city, with the old quarter being the best part, but the Guggenheim was a big disappointment. Sorry, modern art lovers, but the “art” was uninspiring. The actual museum structure was far more interesting than the stuff inside it. Even worse than the Tate Modern. (I just don’t find modern art inspiring or remotely interesting for the most part.) We took one interesting side trip, to GERNIKA, the city that was bombed to smithereens by the German Condor Legion during the Spanish Civil War and inspired Picasso to paint his famous eponymous canvas. The city, a 45-minute train ride away has a nice little museum, somewhat ironically called the Peace Museum. This museum uses the infamous bombing as a jumping off point to explore “peace” issues. I could have done without all the modern, liberal sensitivities that the museum pushed, such as equating peace with environmental concerns, but there were some worthwhile exhibits. The highlights of the museum are a recreation of Picasso’s painting that sits just above the staircase to the upper level and the amazing floor, which is made of transparent glass. Underneath the glass is the rubble from the bombing, including charred books, papers, broken bric-a-brac, etc. This floor was the most dramatic display in the entire museum and worth the trip alone. It was truly haunting to walk over this floor. You almost felt as if you had to watch where you stepped so you didn’t walk on someone’s family photo or other precious mementos damaged in the bombing.
On our last night in Bilbao before our flight back to the States, Spain won the World Cup soccer match. The celebrations in Bilbao were nothing like what we saw occurring in Madrid or other parts of Spain. A fellow guest inquired about places to watch the match and hotel staff didn’t have any recommendations. We did notice that all the restaurants completely shut down early, and we guessed it was so they owners and staff could go home and watch the match. But everything seemed more subdued here that what we saw on TV in terms of general revelry at the win.
We took an early flight out of Bilbao’s airport. We actually arrived too early. When our taxi drove up the airport looked closed and it was! Turns out the airport isn’t open 24/7 as we’re used to in big cities and we had to sit in the outside benches at the darkened terminal for 45 minutes before the lights came on and we could go inside. We did feel hotel staff, which checked us out and called us a taxi for the airport, should have known this and warned us. We would have hung out in our rooms if we’d known we’d be sitting in the dark for nearly and hour. But at least we weren’t the only ones who didn’t get the memo. A lone fellow traveler who appeared to be a tourist was already sitting there in the dark when we arrived and it wasn’t soon thereafter that Spaniards began arriving only to find the airport closed. The hours of operation must not have been that well known.
Had a pleasant flight home and we’ve already decided that we’re going back to Pamplona next year and this time we’ll stay for the entire festival and really enjoy the morning encierros and all the evening bullfights, and take some time to travel to the nearby Rioja wine region during the day. Can’t wait!
Aug 1st, 2010, 08:18 AM
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Robert2533,
You're right about the Plaza del Castillo in Pamplona. They had a jumbo screen in the center of the plaza and we caught parts of Spain's semi-final match there. Everybody was certainly into the game. Probably mostly tourists, and by that I mean Spainards as well. In fact, my Dad and I paid attention to the accents we heard around us throughout our trip and we heard primarily Spanish, quite a few American, and a lot of Australian (as opposed to British) accents.
On our way to the airport early Monday morning, we did see some young Bilbaoans (?) still out carousing and with the Spanish flag draped over their shoulders, but definitely nothing like the craziness we saw ocurring in Madrid.
You're right about the Plaza del Castillo in Pamplona. They had a jumbo screen in the center of the plaza and we caught parts of Spain's semi-final match there. Everybody was certainly into the game. Probably mostly tourists, and by that I mean Spainards as well. In fact, my Dad and I paid attention to the accents we heard around us throughout our trip and we heard primarily Spanish, quite a few American, and a lot of Australian (as opposed to British) accents.
On our way to the airport early Monday morning, we did see some young Bilbaoans (?) still out carousing and with the Spanish flag draped over their shoulders, but definitely nothing like the craziness we saw ocurring in Madrid.
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blackcat256
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Oct 30th, 2012 09:58 AM
