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SEE YOU IN PAMPLONA!
Lola Akinmade
Those were the last words I heard from some Italians I had befriended in Barcelona the day before I was heading
down to Pamplona. The odds of that happening were literally 1 in 1.5 million people expected to be reveling during San
Fermin.

The San Fermin Festival (“Running of the Bulls”) is held every year on the exact same dates – July 6th to July 14th –
come rain or shine.  As I stood in an overcrowded bus from the train station heading down to Plaza Castillo, eager
anticipation could be felt in the air. Strangers stealing glances at each other yet sitting quietly on that bus, knowing we
were all going to be experiencing something we’d be talking about for years to come.
I was meeting the lady who I was renting a
room from in Plaza Castillo. Hotels in
Pamplona sold out 6-9 months in advance
of the festival, and so, locals opened their
homes to strangers, renting out rooms at
prices comparable to 3-4 star hotels. I
couldn’t have asked for a better location –
On the fourth floor along the world-famous
Estefeta Street which was the final stretch
towards the bullring! My roommates ranged
from young Mexican ladies to young
Englishmen donning white Elvis suits and
white Marilyn Monroe dresses. Later on
that night, I ventured out to Plaza Castillo
where Pamplona’s infamous nightlife thrived with my camcorder in tow. Needless to say, it was just the precursor to
what I was going to be experiencing in the upcoming days.
Txupinazo (“Chupinazo”)
The morning of July 6th as I wore my white garb and red neckties, it finally hit me. I was here to experience the
running of the bulls I had always watched on television. I headed out to the town hall with two roommates to watch
the Txupinazo; which is the official festival kickoff at 12
noon marked by the launching of a rocket. Seeing a crowd
of thousands in white and red was a sight to behold. Lots of
people were holding Sangria bottles or udders, and soon
enough, the food and drink fights began, with people
dressed in white being doused in everything from red wine
to mustard. The minute the rocket went off, the sheer
collective madness and drinking began in Pamplona.
Fountain-Jumping
Right after the Txupinazo, I headed off to the site of the
legendary fountain jumping ritual. Started years ago by
drunken Australian revelers, this ritual has become as much
a part of the festival as the bull running itself.
I was expecting it to be fun but what I wasn’t anticipating was how daring and unbelievable it was. Rumors had been
flying around that, ironically, an Australian guy had slipped and died earlier that morning. Fellow revelers did back-flips,
flying squirrels, and dives into crowds of strangers below; trusting that they would be caught. To this date, I still watch
footage of the jumps in sheer unbelief.
The Encierro:
The Running of the Bulls

The morning of July 7th was the official
start of the bull runs. Thousands of
people were perched on balconies along
the route. Lots of brave runners were
waiting patiently in strategic spots where
they hoped they’d make less direct
contact with the bulls. When I reserved
my private room, I’d also been offered a
“balcony spot” which of course I had to
pay for. The extra income San Fermin
generates for locals is a small price to pay
for the insanity they have to endure
during the festival. My balcony spot was
right above Mercaderes Street with an excellent view of the sharp right hand curve the bulls had to make onto Estefeta
Street. The wait was nerve-wreaking. The run goes by so fast that you could literally miss it if you turned around for a
split second. The rocket went off. The race started and the flowing sea of white and red was never-ending. Within
seconds, flanked by red and white runners, the bulls raced down Mercaderes and the crowd went absolutely crazy. My
fellow balcony spotters pointed out the famous American basketball player Dennis Rodman in excitement, and I
captured his run on tape. The bull-run lasted for about 3-4 minutes. Later on that day, I took a walking tour round the
city to fully experience life outside the main squares. My group walked along the stone walls of the city where the day
before, two people who had been intoxicated had jumped to their deaths. A mandatory stop was made at the statue of
Ernest Hemingway, who brought the festival to a wider audience through his book “The Sun Also Rises”. We ended
our tour right at the stadium where I knew the fights were going to take place later that night.
The Corrida - Bullfights

Starting on July 7th at 6:30 pm, the bull-fights
occur daily. Crowds led by marching bands
and local clubs called “Peñas” file towards the
bullring. Trying to get tickets to watch a fight
can be close to impossible since they are
mostly reserved for the Peñas. Finally buying
a ticket three times the regular price off a
scalper, I was able to go in. The music that
resonated from the various bands filled the
skies. It was absolutely amazing and what
more, finding myself sitting amongst a local
Peña – complete with food, sangria, music,
drunkenness, and rowdiness. I was instantly
adopted into their fold, fed potato sandwiches,
and of course, doused in Sangria as their way of flirting with me. They taught me songs and tried to explain in the little
English they knew what I was about to witness.

The bullfight is definitely not for the squeamish. It is a tradition that has been held for years so I have to respect their
rights to practice their tradition. The six bulls that ran earlier that morning had to fight that night. The novilleros and
matadors strolled out androgynously into the ring. The world famous matador – Fandilla – made an appearance which
garnered uncontrollable applause and cheering. Skillfully spearing the bulls in acrobatic displays, I sometimes wondered
if the matadors truly valued their lives. I asked a few of the Peñas what happened to the carcasses once the fights were
over, and they said the meat was donated to local kitchens.
I’ll remember for my experience in pamploma
for many years to come. The Encierro was
most definitely the highlight of my trip. Not to
be outdone by San Fermin, a few days before
the festival, PETA organizes the “Running of
the Nudes” to protest their view of the tradition
as cruel…well in the nude. On July 15th, the
“Running of the Bus” is held where revelers
still on the high of the bull runs, race alongside
the local transportation buses.

Experiencing it as a solo traveler allowed me to
step back and observe the sheer 24-hour
insanity objectively, and then jump back in
when I was ready. Being a female traveler
during a festival where men outnumbered women at least 300:1, safety was always on the back of my mind. The
parties go on round-the-clock non-stop for all nine (9) days of the festival: Bull runs in the morning, partying till the bull
fights in the evening, and then partying till bull runs in the morning. There was no way I could have stayed in Pamplona
for all nine days.
I met (and made friends with) wonderful people from all over
the world.   Oh yeah! And the Italians...I ran into them twice!
What are the odds of that?!

My Top Recommendations
The San Fermin Guide:
http://www.sanfermin.com/guia/in_sanfermin.shtml  
An absolute must for anyone who dares venture near
Pamplona during San Fermin. It doesn’t get better than this
site for planning your trip to Pamplona.

Sanfermin.com:
http://www.sanfermin.com
(It's in Spanish. Click on “English” link at the top left corner of
site). This official site of the festival includes everything from
a Survival Kit, Lodging Guide, articles, galleries, videos, and
of course, photos submitted by crazy revelers.

Pamplona Forum on Eurotrip.com:
http://www.eurotrip.com/forum/tt.aspx?forumid=19
That was how I found lodging and other fellow travelers.

Sangria:   Spain’s traditional adult beverage of choice during
the festivities and is extremely easy to find around town.

Lola’s San Fermin Photo Gallery:
http://www.lemurworks.com/lola/travel/pamplona/index.htm