Before I start I want to just say this was the wildest, craziest, most thrilling and exciting experience of my life, and nothing I have ever done or seen comes close. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND GOING TO THIS FESTIVAL, at some point in your life, weather you run or not, it is the most spectacular thing you will ever experience or see. Note that this blog will be a bit longer than usual, but it is because I want to really want to try and give you an idea of how worthwhile this festival really is.

So it was finally time, July 7th (the first day of the run) was only a couple days away and I was in Barcelona (6 hours from Pamplona). I went online to book a train ticket and low and behold all trains from Barcelona to Pamplona were fully booked. I started to panic, as The Running of The Bulls was one of the main things I wanted to do during my Euro-trip. I went online to the bus company’s site to try and book a bus... the site kept giving me an error message. I really started to panic. On July 6th I went first thing in the morning to the bus station and waited 45 minutes in a hot and sweaty line to find out there was indeed spaces on the bus. I tell the women I want to purchase the ticket only to find out they don’t except credit cards (I only had a card on me at the time, no cash!), I asked if I could run down stairs to pull out money from the atm and the teller told me I'd have to wait in the 45 minute line again. I went downstairs and pulled out money, then went directly to the front of the line (there was no way they were making me wait again) and I would have liked to see someone try lol.

July 6th I left for Pamplona on the bus and arrived at 9pm, in turn missing the 12 noon opening ceremonies, but just in time for the beginning of the wildest 24-hour-a-day 7-day-long festival/party I have ever been to. When I say it is 24-hours a day, I mean 24-hours a day. It is non-stop drinking and partying on the streets and in every local pub, bar, restaurant, and club.

As soon as you arrive in Pamplona you notice that 99% of the people are dressed in the traditional festival colors of all white with red handkerchiefs warn boy-scout style, and a red scarf rapped around their wastes. No matter if you are a two-year-old or an 88-year-old this is what you wear to the San Fermin festival. During the opening ceremonies (which I missed) people pour wine all over each other, so many people are walking around in wine stained shirts.

I had been advised by locals in Barcelona to bring nothing with me other then a camera and cash as it is expensive to get accommodation and your best bet is to simply sleep in the park (which I did). I came with nothing but the white shirt and shorts I was wearing, a camera, a cell phone, and some cash for food and of course to pick up the traditional red handkerchief and scarf. Luckily I met up with two friends from Toronto Joel and Ben who had brought sleeping bags with them, as well as two German girls they had picked up at the train station. Needless to say we all snuggled up Big Mac style with Canadians as the buns and Germans as the meat. I was also advised to put all my possessions in my underwear at night if sleeping in the park. Luckily I did because people all around us woke up with stuff stolen from their pockets and bags.

But enough with that, down to the nitty gritty, the part everyone is waiting for, the actual run on the 7th at 8am!

I had partied the night before until about 2am and then went to the park to get some sleep. I had been told I needed to wake up at 5:30am if I wanted to run because believe it or not there are so many people that want to run with the bulls that they turn hundreds away each day. The actual race doest start until 8am so it was an anxious two and a half hour wait. By the time 7:10 hits you are crowded on the course with about 1500-2000 other people. At 8am a horn sounds warning everyone that the bulls are about to be released, at 8:01am a second horn sounds and this is to let everyone know that the bulls are released. Before I go any further I should point out that it is impossible to race them (the bulls) or even keep up with them for very long (interesting information for anyone with athletic pretensions). The way to do it is, to start off slowly when the bulls are still a good distance behind, and as they draw nearer start running as fast as you can, before they get too close, hang in near them for a short time, as near as you are prepared to risk your skin, and then get out of the way as cleanly as possible.

So people basically choose a part on the 800-meter course and run that section, no one runs the entire course. I chose to start about half way down the course, as I wanted to make it into the Arena (where the run finishes). Now you'd think the scariest part of the running of the bulls would be the 1200-pound beasts with horns running after you but I would disagree. The scariest part for me was seeing the sheer and utter panic on each and every single persons face (keep in mind there’s roughly 2000 people running each time) around you. To see that fear and panic on a mob of men aged 18-45?? Is terrifying in it’s self.

The second horn sounded and this fear and panic I was discussing ravaged the mob, and my heart was beating out of my chest by this point. The actual run only lasts about 2 minutes so it is extremely fast. Before I even knew it the bulls were right be side me and people were running for their lives. I ran as fast as I could, jumping over fallen people, trying to look both in front and behind me at the same time. That is one of the biggest challenges is the need to look behind you to make sure you don’t need to dodge a bull, as well as the need to also look in front of you at the same time to make sure you don’t trip over the people that have fallen. Keep in mind everyone is panicked and people who panic are willing to do anything including pulling you down or pushing you over if it means they don’t get hit by a bull. I ran and luckily was not hit by any bulls. 

I ran into the stadium just after the first 6 or so bulls ran in and I was followed in by another 6 or so bulls. Once in the stadium the bulls are all hearded out the opposite end and everyone who has run into the stadium cheers as well as the 10,000+ people who are seated in the stadium. About a minute after the bulls are hearded out, one bull is released into the arena to reek havoc. The bull chases people, people taunt it, people get hit.

This is where my luck ran short. I was so focused on the one bull that was running around that I didn’t realize a second bull had been let loose. THIS IS WHEN I GOT HIT BY A BULL. All of a sudden I get nailed in the back by something big and hard, and I’m thrown forward about 8 feet onto my face. I turn around to see what hit me and see a bull run by. I got up and ran to the side and hopped over the barrier. I wasn’t hurt badly but my back was in pain and my knees and hand were cut from landing in the sand. I walked over to one of the many medics standing by and got cleaned up with some water and iodine. I then watched from the outer ring as bulls were released and hearded out over and over.


(The Brown stain in the middle off my back is from the bulls head)


(My Battle Wounds) 

In the stadium, the center is all sand. Then there is a barrier, then an outer ground level ring, and then elevated stands all around. I was standing in the ground level ring. This is when things really got interesting. A bull somehow made it into the outer ring and ran around catching people off guard. I luckily jumped up into the stands to avoid being hit again. After they released and caught about 7 bulls the arena cleared out and the wild city wide street party resumed. Bands marched down the streets playing music, clubs were pumping music into the streets, and there were drunken people scattered everywhere enjoying the festivities.

There is a 20-foot high statue in the middle of town that people for one reason or another jump off towards the cement ground (this is a tradition apparently, see picture below). Most of the time drunken fools catch the drunken fools that jump, but sometimes the drunken fools land straight on their faces.




 
(While traveling in Europe, you will realize that British people are nuts,
as seen in this picture.)

The following day my friend Joel really wanted to run, and as stupid as it sounds I ran a second time, but this time I didn’t get hit at all. It was pretty much just as scary the second time, even though I knew what to expect.

After the second run we partied some more and then I took the 6 hour bus ride back (in the same clothes id been wearing for the past 48 hours. yes I smelled and was dirty, and tired) to Barcelona, so I could catch my flight the following day to Budapest, as I was on my way to Serbia for Exit festival (stay tuned, I will be writing a big blog about Exit fest soon).

All in all this was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life and like I said in the start of this blog, I highly recommend everyone goes to this festival some time in their life.

Below is some more info about the run, also check out www.sanfermin.com

Aaron

“Getting down to business, so you can get to the business of getting down”

Look to the left, or click here for more blogs by Aaron Neilson-Belman