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Published: July 14th 2006
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Hello from Madrid, by way of San Sebastian, and now we are right up the street from the Puerto Del Sol and a beautiful hostel called Adriano. I will be filling these blogs in when I can more fully describe our trip and I'm still working on getting the pics up, or at least create a link, that you can go to view the fun.
The 2nd day we decided to run with the bulls turned into the longest, most soul satisying day I can remember. The day started with us getting up early enough to run with the bulls (again!) and this time we were very excited because we were going to use our knowledge of the day before to make our run better - this means get closer to the bulls and run with them longer without getting hurt.
We waited for what seemed like even longer than the day before and then the first rocket went off and we were much better located up on Estefella than the day before. The bulls come around the dead man's curve and they actually have to slow down a bit so it give you a chance to catch up
with them for a little longer. It worked for us and we waited and waited until they were right up on us and then sprinted like all hell! We chose the left side of Estefella instead of the right and it paid off as the bulls were mostly in a straight group but some vearing off to the right and the pile ups were big over on that side. I managed to keep my wits and my peripheral vision watching up ahead for fallen runners while looking to my right and there they are - right beside me a herd of thundering beasts moving so much faster than you can imagine and they simply take up so much room they seem to take up what little bit of morning sun there is! I can smell them again, hot animal sweat mixed with the energy of the crowd and the terror of seeing those horns up close and for about a minute the world stops again and everything comes together. I can see the spots, hear the bells dangling around the steers' necks, see the bulls' head down and driving forward but with an almost elegant force. People fall in front of me! I can not stop and must use both of my elbows to navigate around and then over the fallen runners, the bulls are past and up ahead of me and I slow down a bit so I can follow them into the arena and find Marcus and Tom and some of the other new folks we met this morning. That was it. Everyone is slapping each other on the back, picking up the fallen runners, there is blood, some lacerations, some bruised egos, but no real damage on this street. The day before, on our first run, a runner got gored badly in the thigh. I have the pictures from the paper and they are quite stunning.
After the run we head to the arena for some more fun with the bulls. This time we are better prepared and know the routine and the highlight of the morning is when Marcus and I get up to the very front of the opening gate where the bull is let into the arena at a full charge. Mark has his head on the gate and I am one row back and we kneel down as low as possible and start singing. It's a Spanish prayer I guess and as it gets louder and louder more people come and kneel down and take position in front and we bunch up real close. I'm down so low the sand moves from my breathing but I have my left leg braced and ready to hold my weight should I need to explode out of this position in either direction. Enough people are gathered and the first gate is opened. We sing louder and the man in charge slaps his hand twice on the red metal gate and it swings open to reveal a long dark tunnel about 50 ft. The tunnel is empty and then here he comes! The bull clears the distance in less than 3 seconds and as everyone shouts and screams Ole' the thundering bull hits our huddled mass at full speed and leaps up at least 5 feet over the first 8 people!!! I stayed down and simply looked up to my right to see 800 pounds of solid black bull flying over me and completely leaping over all of us and landing like a 747 in the sand and then all hell breaks loose again! It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen! The underside of a bull at 35 miles per hour!
We explode from the group and go out on our own to begin watching the angry bull charge over and over and topple one person after another, very few get out of the way completely and most end up head over heels and then hope the bull is done with them...but he usually goes in for more blood and repeatedly tramples and gores the runner until other runners distract him and get his attention so he charges them instead. Then someone comes in and drags the runner, if he is hurt which some are, to the infirmary in the arena. This goes on all morning as we run our way through 7 bulls, each time I leaned in the front of the gate and watched the bull leap over us just hoping he would not plow into us each time. There were some injuries, a runner had his head split, another was knocked unconscious and it was in this arena a few days ago a guy from
NYC was paralyzed from the waist down after a particularly bad trampling by this same bull.
After "playing" with the bulls we head over to the local bar where everyone celebrates their bruises and their good luck. At Xotcho, we congratulate everyone that ran (many people come here and decide not to run and I can certainly understand that choice - it is far more dangerous than what I knew about before coming here). We have some iced coffee and laugh at the idiocy but hilarity at we all are a part of.
It is a wonderful beginning to one of the best days of my life. We hear there is a FREE concert up about an hour away in the city of San Sebastian. Bob Dylan is playing on the beach so we pack up our backpacks and head to the bus station!
Stay tuned!
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