Advertisement
We got an early start this morning from the hostel. We knew it was about an hour drive to Pamplona so we left at 530. The drive into Spain was great. We went through some of the nicest scenery since Switzerland. We almost ran into about 60 sheep crossing the road.
When we reached Pamplona, we saw everyone camping on the edge of town and in the parks. As we got closer to the town’s center, it looked like a war zone. There were people passed out on the sidewalks and in the streets. There was trash and broken glass everywhere. The people who weren’t passed out were wondering around in a drunken daze. It was evident that we had just missed the biggest party ever. We knew we were in the right place because everyone was wearing white clothes with a red scarf.
We couldn’t park near the center of town so we went back out to the edge. We hustled in because the Running was to begin in a couple hours. As we neared the center of town, we could smell the puke, piss, and alcohol. We found where the running was to start and jumped into the
street. Nobody spoke English so we didn’t have a clue what the hell to do. (After the running, we found out we were supposed to check in. Nic wasn’t supposed to run because he was under 18.) I got out my camera to record the action, and then somebody told me no camera allowed. I quickly put it away. People continued to crowd in. We heard a loud boom and everyone started to run. I didn’t see any bulls, but I ran anyway. Some people slowed down to get close to the bulls; not us, we ran like hell. Everyone was cheering as we ran through the turns. As we came to the end, some runners were running through gates towards the arena. Nic and I just jumped the fence and got the hell out of the way. Not out of the way of the bulls but all the other runners! By the time we made it back to the fence, I was only able to catch a glimpse of the last bulls. We had done it.
We walked back down the path towards our starting point. We came across some of the runners that got trampled. The medics were
attending them to.
As we wondered around looking for something else to do, it appeared the drunken crowd was crazier than ever. The police had formed in groups and the excitement happened. Somebody threw a bottle at the cops and the fight was on. It seemed as soon as a bottle hit the ground, the cops just started swinging at the closest person. We tried to steer clear from the troublemakers as we made our way back to our car. We would occasionally stop and watch the action. I started to film one of the cops beating on one of the troublemakers. One of the guys standing next to me was telling me something about my camera in Spanish. I didn’t have a clue what he was saying. Apparently, he was telling me to put the camera away, because when the cop saw me filming, he raised his club and started at me. I just watched this guy beat down somebody else, so I didn’t stand around; I ran the hell away from there. He only chased me for half a block.
We found our car and pointed it towards Barcelona!
We drove for about five hours to the steamy city of Barcelona. The hostel is great. It is an old family mansion from 150 years ago. There is ornate tile and marble everywhere. Not much else happened tonight. Just did some laundry and tried to stay cool. Will tour the city tomorrow.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.117s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 6; qc: 44; dbt: 0.0488s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Antonio
non-member comment
three words.
i am jealous.