We stopped in the town of Biarritz, on the coast near the Spanish border. And let me just say, it has a rather marvellous coastline (and one of the few sandy beaches we found in Europe). Take a look:
Pretty, huh? There was also some kind of church:
After a swim, some lunch, and a game of touch on the beach, we boarded the bus again, and left for our final destination for the day, across the Spanish border: Pamplona.
Now, some of you may know this, but Pamplona is the city where one of the worlds most famous (and dangerous) festivals is held: The Festival of San Fermin, better known to the rest of the world as The Running of the Bulls.
I mentioned yesterday that today would be Bastille Day? Bastille day is Sunday 14th July. The Running of the Bulls is a week (and a bit) long festival, beginning on the 6th of July and ending on... the 14th. That's right, we were there for the final day of the Running of the Bulls.
Of course, we arrived far to late to compete in any of the running, but we were there for the much safer and much better part of the day - the afterparty.
Before I get into that, though, a couple of words on the Festival of San Fermin. While most cities in Spain do indeed celebrate Saint Fermin, Pamplona has by far the wildest festival. The origin of the Running is kinda unclear, but it's known that during the festival, the farmers would run their bulls through the city streets to the bullring, where they would eventually be killed off by a matador, and the bulls could then be used for food. At some point, though, people started running with the bulls, and this grew and grew every year until it became a major part of the festival.
There are a few restrictions on competing: Firstly, you must be over 18 years old, you have to run in the same direction as the bulls, not incite the bulls, and not be under the influence of alcohol. Ultimately, this means that for a heard of stampeding bulls, it's surprisingly safe. Of course, that's all relative. Since record-keeping began in 1924, only fifteen people have died: All of them were Spanish, save two, and all were killed by goring save two (a different two). Those two were killed when one was suffocated by being pushed up against a wall by the crowd in 1977, and when the other was hit bull the horn of a bull (which somehow constitutes being different from goring, according to Wikipedia) in 2003.
Even so, the bull running is a major part of life in Pamplona. On one of the main streets, coming up to the arena, they've even erected a rather disturbingly gory statue of the bull running:
(That's me on the back of the bull.)
So that's the history over and done with. And now, on to the main attraction: The massive piss up/street party that was the afterparty for the Running of the Bulls.
...Well, I'd tell you if I could remember it. Truth be told, my rationale for that particular evening was that A LOT of predrinking would be required. So in the hour or two before we got on the shuttle bus into town, I drank a litre of Sangria (fruity-type wine, about 7% alcohol), drank a bottle of red wine, and about half a bottle of white. The rest of the night was kinda a blur. After we got off the shuttle bus, I remember falling over backwards and fucking up my wrists (they still hurt a little bit) and breaking another bottle of wine I had in my backpack. I remember swapping hats with a lot of people, to the point that I lost my favourite hat EVER. I remember randomly dancing on the street in front of a club with a new hat in front of me, on the off chance that I'd make some money (I made 50c). I remember having a swig of absinthe that I'd bought in Biarritz, before realising how disgusting it tasted and passing it off. I never saw the bottle again. I remember going into a random souvenir store and buying a shot glass (which I didn't discover for about four more days). I remember ordering a JD & Coke from a bar, having about twi sips, and the putting it down. I remember breaking off from the group, walking about on my own, and eventually meeting up with them again in the main square. And I remember most of everything after that, including what were, at the time, THE WORLD'S GREATEST KEBABS. And, among other things, I remember eventually taking the taxi back to the campsite, and passing out in the tent.
It was a good night.
Tomorrow is day 6. Is anybody excited?
That's a lovely coastline, but it looks COLD! D:
ReplyDeleteActually, it was surprisingly warm! The somewhat-ominous cloud cover just made it seem otherwise.
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