Daaaaaaaa Bulls.

Everyone everywhere wears the matador outfit.
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OK. I´m sure you´ve been curious about this place so here´s what happened in Pamplona..

We were in San Sebastien, about an hour from Pamplona on purpose. We thought it´d be easier to get to Pamplona from there (and cheaper to stay in). I figured for sure during San Fermin (that´s what the festival is called) there´d be tours and extra buses or something. Well we must´ve missed the memo because nothing out of the regular schedule was kicking around - at least that´s what we were told.

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So we had two options to catch the 8am bull run the next day. Either we take the 7am bus San Sebastien and miss the bull run entirely, or we take the last bus the night before at 9:15pm and wait around. We chose to leave the night before and pass out in a park or something with the rest of the scrub backpackers. We had heard that there were heaps of English speaking backpackers lying in a park for the festival. It was a party all night anyways so you didn´t really have to pass out, but if you wanted to at least there´s some safety in numbers, right?

At the bull ring, waiting for the fools to run in and away from the bulls.
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Schedule of events.

10:30 - get to Pamplona

11:00 - get first beer (Vasa got a Coke)

12:00 - bought a 40oz beer off a stand for 3.50. Scored.

Ole!
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1:00 - after wandering through the all night parties everywhere, concerts, etc.. we ended up between these massive two stone walls. Figured it´d at least be covered from the wind (I´m like MacGyver). Only problem is, we tried to pass out, but there were so many punks that we just left after an hour.

2:00 - tried to find the English contingent. No luck. Settled for another concert with a singing matador, and then a rock show. Tried to pass out under a tree at the rock show, not much grass, it was more like dirt. Walked by a very nice girl on the way, who was squatting with her skirt by her ankles as she peed against a wall 2 meters from us. I really really don´t think she cared that she had company.

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3:00 - gave up on the grass/dirt combo. Not very comfortable. Settled for empty park benches instead.

4:30 - I think I squeezed in an hour of sleep. Vasa thought she saw some dude walk over to us to try and steal our bags. We had enough of that, and walked away.

5:00 - now, there is puke and pee everywhere in this hole. The place stinks, we gave up on sleep. Settled for a coffee, a Coke and a deep fried hot dog to share.

6:00 - walked on over to the bull ring to try and get seats for the bull fights after the run. We couldn´t watch the run and the bull fights so we settled for the longer of the two events.

8:00 - rockets go off, drunks run like hell from bulls. I think everyone was safe. I didn´t see any bodies on the streets.

Final thought - It was a party, that´s for sure. It was just so taxing on us, that I´d have to say the whole thing is a bit overrated. I felt the same about Mardi Gras in New Orleans too. Life really shouldn´t let you down... pass that memo to life if you see him please.

We caught the first bus we could to Madrid, exhausted and hungry. Phew.