Running of the Bulls - Pamplona

JG: For probably five years, I've wanted to go to the San Fermín festival in Pamplona, Spain, and run with the bulls. The tradition, the charm, the adrenaline - all of it. Over eight days in the middle of July, roughly a million people gather from around the world to engage in all-night concerts, parades, and revelry. For more than a week, there is no social class or hierarchy, hence the uniform white and red worn by every man, woman and child - each day, all day.

I looked forward to the bull running (natively called the Encierro) so much that I ran it not once, but each morning for three straight days. Sandy couldn't resist and ran it on the second day with me. And this was after the aforementioned revelry from about 10pm right through the night into the morning. It was an exercise in endurance, to say the least, and it was a blast. We met some great locals, and even a group of Swedes we still keep in touch with - some of them have been making the pilgrimage to Pamplona for over 30 years.

The Encierro itself is as advertised. A gradual anxiety builds amongst the runners until the rockets are launched, indicating that the bulls have been released. Then the murmur of excitement gets drowned out by the footsteps of runners prematurely jogging towards the bullring, and quickly gets doused by the full-on avalanche of bodies hustling down Estafeta Street, which is no more than six meters wide. You are jumping over, through, and around people to either make it to the end, or bailing off to the side in the event of danger. For 30 seconds, all I heard was people screaming and the clanging of bells around the bulls' necks. 

Let's go to the scorecard: 

Day 1 - winner. Made it to the ring and the 20 minutes or so of post-run entertainment with the bulls being let back in one at a time for a run at the masses.

Day 2 - loser. Big one. Got tackled by a mob of people behind me, losing my cell phone and left shoe (recovered the latter 15 minutes later and 100 meters/yards away, the phone remains lost in abyss of bad decision making).

Day 3 - push. This is only a push because I made it to the ring, but never into the ring as a straggling bull actually got hung up in the corridor leading up to the bullring....along with 30 of us runners, weaving our way around this thing. It took about 20 seconds for them to reopen the gates to redirect the bull into the ring, and that's about as close as I hope I ever get to a 1,200 lb bull.

SS: Nothing will EVER compare to this festival. The entire city is painted in red and white outfits and there are seas of people to the end of eye's reach. Little to no police presence (except for the actual run), people are gathered everywhere drinking and eating in the streets, parks, squares, or any place you can pull your butt up to at all during the day and all through the night. John and I stayed up mingling all night, every night for the first three days of the festival while we were there. (Yes - John partied all night, everyone!) It was some of the most fun I have had in years. 

The run... Since the festival started on a Friday night, Saturday morning being the the first and most important run, there was an extra amount of people in Pamplona - some for just 24 hours. Jam packed, I somehow managed to fight my way and get a prime spot on the fence to watch and record the famed 2 minute stampede. Now, just by watching I figured "that doesn't look too hard - I could totally do it!" 

So day two, I had my red skirt on and running shoes double knotted with John standing right behind me, he says "when I say run, I want you to run as fast as you can". Waiting through the premature runners, being shoved and pushed a little I suddenly hear "GO!!!!" It was an exhilarating, fearful, adrenaline ridden sprint hurdling over fallen people, dodging frantic runners and of course the 1,200 lb bulls (ten of them in total). I proudly made it into the bull ring and waited for Johnny who never came....  

Limping down the street with one shoe on, searching for his lost phone and other shoe, we now come to the real reason for our delayed blog posts. John had all our photos on his phone that has been donated to the Pamplona abyss. Thankful for iCloud, friends and international postal systems, he now has a new phone and restored our memories. Although, note the last photo below and that guy is still holding his phone...

Dinner with our new Swedish friends enlightened us of the history and importance of the festival, bringing a new level of respect for the tradition. Again I managed to get up on the fence (a 3 hour camp out) to watch the run on our final morning. A screen shot of the video below captures John running with the masses. I dared not to push my previous days luck and run again as I don't have the strength to fight the crowd. 

All in all, an incredible experience that I would recommend to everyone. Although you must read the "rules" of running first. Check out www.sanfermin.com to see more videos and pictures.