351773 5 Location 546057 <p>The Spanish bullfight remains one of the most controversial forms of mass entertainment in the world. It is despised and revered in almost equal measure depending on whose opinion you seek, and Denise and I were unsure which camp we would join once we had experienced the event in person. What we were sure of, however, was that we really wanted to be part of this quintessential Spanish tradition at least once during our trip - and what better location than Madrid where they were in the middle of a full month of daily bullfights!?</p><p>We had purchased our tickets from a ticket office just off the Puerto del Sol for the princely sum of 32 Euro each for seats in the very front row (we decided if we were going to do this we would do it properly) although they are right when they say there are no bad seats at a bullfight - the steep sides of the arena ensure that even the highest 'nose-bleed' seats feel like they are part of the action.</p><p>Riding the very packed Metro to the Ventas (pronounced Bentas) stop, we were both struck by the make-up of the crowd jostling to get to the arena - old and young, men and women, rich and poor - the bullfight belongs to all, and is clearly as much a social event as a sporting spectacle.</p><p>Emerging from the Metro Station you are immediately aware of the towering arena which dominates the skyline - looking like nothing so much as a modern and rennovated replica of the Roman Colleseum. Surrounded by scores of sweet and nut vendors and the milling crowds you get a sense of what those ancient gladiatorial events must have felt like. Making sure to pay the 1.20 Euro each for the cushion rental (we had been warned that 2 hours on the concrete seats would be hell without them) we made our way through the gates to our seats, which were indeed in the very front of the arena.</p><p>The atmosphere was electric - a riot of colour and sounds that set our senses on edge and added real energy to our anticipation. Replete with drums, trumpets and other instruments, musicians were spread throughout the crowd and their strident paso doble marked the formal start of proceedings.</p><p>First to emerge from the tunnels spaced around the clockface of the sandy arena were the judges - mounted on handsome stallions and dressed in dark colours suited to their task of ensuring the fairness of the fights and adjudicating the skills of the matadors. Followed by a procession of lesser fighters in garish hues of pink, yellow, and blue they were followed in turn by the mounted matadors and finally by the 3 stars who would pit their skills against the rage of the bulls.</p><p>Almost in spite of ourselves we were drawn into the event. The charged atmosphere combines with the evident traditions and forms of the bullfight to compel audience participation. Every move, every turn, every expression of the matadors and their compatriots is designed to engage the crowd - commanding attention and begging appreciation.</p><p>The night saw 6 bulls fought and dispatched in the space of just more than 2 hours. Each matador had his own style and flair, and each bull required a different approach. The fights proceeded in identical phases: first the bull is released to charge around the ring, snorting and pawing the earth. Then the minor matadors emerge in groups from behind hidden partitions to attract the bull - enticing it to charge their movements, effectively tiring it to assist the matador later in the contest. This phase is follwed by the emergence of the mounted matadors - each astride a horse wrapped in thick cladding and padded to ensure its saftey from the bull which charges these new 'opponents' (we have been told that each horse is blinkered to ensure it sees nothing and muffled with oil-soaked rags in each each to prevent sounds from spooking them - with their vocal cords cut to ensure that they do not scream their panic when charged). The mounted matadors use thin lances to pierce the backs of the bulls - further weakening them through blood loss. This phase is also the least popular with the crowd which views it as increasingly unsporting - ensuring through catcalls that the phase ends soon. The next phase entails three junior matadors spiking the bull with small hand spears - again to further weaken the beast. The final phase is the main matador and the bull alone in the ring. You might suppose that by this stage the bull is almost at an end - but the 6 we saw were anything but done. They charged and fought to the very end - which is usually brought about by the matador severing the spinal cord of the bull with a purpose-built sword. One bull, once down and counted as out, managed to recover sufficiently to charge the matador from behind, gashing his leg and ripping his costume.</p><p>It is blood sport. In many respects it it cruel. But it is seriously compelling. I suspect that we will never see another bullfight - but we both agree that it was an experience we will never regret or forget. It was, in essence, Spain up close and personal.</p> 2007-05-23T20:18:16-07:00 564133914 2007-05-16T17:00:00-07:00 0 -9223372036854775790 237736 4598257 351773 0 176566 0.0617926032214362 2007-05-12T17:00:00-07:00 Published 25.0 2007-07-06T00:33:57-07:00 92825 0