Pamplona for San Fermin a.k.a the running of the bulls

I went to Pamplona for San Fermin a.k.a. the running of the bulls this weekend. Very unfortunately, Eva couldn't make it. But Sandra, Javi, Ivan, Santi, Patricia, David and I went without her. And what an experience it was! The amount of people there alone was quite the spectacle. Thousands upon thousands of people pack every street and plaza of the small city. San Fermin (who is the saint that is celebrated during the outrageous week) starts every year on July 7th with the lighting of a rocket. After the rocket is launched, there's the tradition of 'fuenting' which is jumping off of the fountain in the main plaza. This tradition started because of an American who jumped off the fountain and died. So now, people jump off the fountain every year (I don't understand). Then the chaos begins and doesn't stop for anything until the 14th rolls around. The bulls run at 8am every day, the city is littered with seven giant stages that pump out the tunes 24h, and all of the bars and the pubs stay open 24h. You can't escape the party. And you don't sleep. We arrived at about 4pm and kept going until we made it to our bus home at 11am the next day. Some people just pass out in the field and wait for the next night, but there's no way I could've handled two nights of insanity.

Also, there are people from all over the world. Everyone comes to see the running of the bulls, even though it's next to impossible to actually see the bulls run. Most people watch the run from a bar at 8am. However, if you're determined enough, you can camp out all night along the street and try to hold your place for the morning (my friend Marek did this and I stole some pictures from him and put them in the slideshow below). But, you have to keep in mind that bulls have hopped the fence and these spectators have been horribly injured. So... maybe the bar isn't so bad. I find it amazing that every year, people die (this year one died from a horn injury to the neck) or suffer terrible injuries, but it just keeps on going. I guess the Spanish like to live life dangerously.

But... wow... San Fermin.

Hasta la proximá vez,

Kathlene