Bull running in Pamplona

Pamplona, Spain - A week after Milan I headed to work in Pamps for 2 weeks for the First Festival travel company. Basically we set up the campsite and ran it when the tourists (punters) arrived. We weren't paid but had our flights, food and accommodation for free. We just spent money on booze and snacks and boy did we buy a lot of that. There were 40 of us: 33 NZ, 6 Oz and 1 Pom (Anna).

Our first couple of days were spent checking and fixing 600 odd dome tents but then for the rest of the time we chilled in the Spanish sun playing touch rugby, cricket and going to the beach at San Sebastian. Every night there was a major drinking session and a lot (read hundreds) of funnels done. One night we invaded the local village for a toga party and partied with the young Basques.


Then 2 days before the punters arrived we put up 600 tents, all neatly lined up. Then 1200 odd people arrived and the madness began. The girls in our crew had to cook the meals and us boys did security every 3rd night. The general day was party all night then sleep all day. And then we had to fit in a couple of bull runs too.

So tired and with sangria running through our veins we went into Pamplona for the bull run. Here's the basic gist of the bull run. There is a run at 8am every morning for 7 days straight. You have to arrive on the 800m course before 7am and it is packed. And then they put the street cleaning trucks through while everyone can't move. At about 7:50 people start to leave the course and about 7:55 there starts a mad rush as all the scaredy-cats and newbies run away. At just before 8 the street clears out with the stupid people (me included) left. A cannon goes and the bulls are released in 2 groups of about 6 to 8 about a minute apart. These are the bulls used for the gruesome bull fights later in the evening. The trick is to run into the arena just ahead of either group of bulls and of course not get killed. On both days I did the run I waited for the 1st lot at 'Dead Man's Corner' then ran to the alleyway leading to the arena where I sprinted in in front of the second lot. So, the bulls are chased through the arena and the crowd goes crazy. About 300 of the runners who made it then stand around high-fiving and such in the arena. Then they let out a small (and very fast) black bull that proceeds to run around the arena taking out everyone in its way. You have to try and get as close as possible to the bull without being taken out. Trying to see the 5" bull amongst 300 6" people is difficult enough and if it comes for you you have to hope it fixes onto someone else. So this goes on for about 5 minutes until the bull is tired of taking people out (note the crowd loves the bull and cheers ecstatically when someone is nailed)and then they swap the bull for a fresh one who then proceeds to attack anyone it can get. This happens about 7 or 8 times.



I will have to say it is the stupidest thing I've done in my life so far but it was so exhilerating. I was literally standing in the arena trying to avoid being the bull's next victim thinking how dumb I was but I was so glad I did it. So I did it twice. I even lay down with about 20 others at the gate to the chute the bull comes out of. The bull comes running down the chute and you have to hope it decides to jump you instead of shunt you with its horns. My bull jumped us. Then at about 930am everyone heads home to bed or the pool before getting back on the sangria and San Miguel later in the afternoon.

After 2 weeks in the Basque sun we left the Spanish to party the rest of the festival away and we got on a bus and made our way back to London via the French motorway system and a ferry across the English Channel.