Crazy Mike and Omar's Adventures in Spain

    Some time ago, I decided that going to Spain for the “Running of the Bulls” was something I shouldn’t miss. After a little research, I discovered that it was around the same time as my birthday and at that point I decided to go to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. This was definitely something that should be done with your best friend so I contacted Crazy Mike to see if he wanted to join me. I also invited a few other people but the only person that showed any interest was our old friend Paul.

Once I decided that I was going to go, I knew I had to start planning and reserving a place to stay. I had heard that a lot of people that wind up in Pamplona end up sleeping in the parks (and getting robbed). Neither Crazy Mike nor Paul had any interest in “camping” so I started looking for a place to stay. It took awhile but I eventually managed to reserve some beds in a hostel in a town called Estella (40 minutes outside of Pamplona).

    Now that we had a place to stay, I focused on getting a ticket. My options were varied. The cheapest way of getting there was a round trip to Paris and then traveling overland to Spain. Another option was a round trip to Madrid. Finally, my travel agent  Monique found me a great ticket flying into Madrid and out of Lisbon. This was ideal because we had planned on going to Portugal after our time in Spain.

    On July 4^th, after a hellish month at work, I flew to Europe. My flight leaving Ottawa was late which resulted in me missing my connecting flight from Heathrow to Madrid. Fortunately, there was another flight that day. By the time I got to Madrid, the train to Pamplona was full.  The beginning of my trip was not turning out well! I decided to catch a bus instead. The bus station wasn’t far from the airport but I managed to get lost and ended up in a suburb of Madrid. I eventually got to the bus station to find out that I had just missed the last bus north to Pamplona! I was very tired and even more frustrated. Fortunately, I met a nice Spanish woman who helped me out and took me to an area in Madrid where I found a cheap hotel. I spent the night in Madrid and hoped for better luck the next day.

    I caught the earliest bus possible to Pamplona. The ride was nice and the scenery was really beautiful. The ride took around 5 hours and then I had to catch another bus in Pamplona to Estella, which took another hours. While on the bus, I met a bunch of people who had not made any reservations and now had nowhere to stay……………sucked to be them! Finally, I made it to the hostel and hooked up with Crazy Mike and Bill .

    Bill was a friend of Mikes in Japan that had decided to join us since he was already on his way to Europe when we planned the trip. During our time together Bill entertained me with all his great Navy stories.    

We got there the day before the start of the San Fermin festival. If you look up ‘debauchery’ in the dictionary, you will see a picture of Pamplona during San Fermin ("Drinking, Dancing And Death In Traditional Spanish Style"). It Rocked! I kept on thinking, “…Coming here was such a good idea”. Everyone was wasted. There were broken bottles everywhere, people were passed out on benches, there were Australians running around naked wiping their butts with plastic bags on the street, people were pissing up against monumental building (the streets were so filthy that they had to washed down with chlorine every morning during the festival) and there was singing and dancing in the streets. There must have been half a dozen marching bands around the city center with a procession of inebriated followers. Although we didn’t get naked, we did our best to join in on the fun.

One of the craziest things we saw was "fountain diving" were people leaping of a monument in the hands of friends and strangers. While we watched, we only saw one accident but it was enough. When most people jumped, the leapt of horizontally but the last guy we watched did a total ‘nose dive’. I don’t know what happened exactly but his head made contact with the cobblestones and there was blood everywhere. Mike saw him and said that his head didn’t look the way heads are supposed to look. The ambulance eventually came but when we walked by ten minutes later, they still hadn’t put him in the vehicle. If he’s not dead, he undoubtedly has brain damage…………………..or is incredibly lucky.

    Right after that, we started talking to an American guy (Brian) and his buddies. He had done the run 21 times in the last seven years. He offered us some advice and within no time his floor as well. We were grateful because we thought we were going to have to spend the whole night walking around. The place we stayed at was the city’s main plaza - "solid with drunk tourists and there are even some drunk Spanish around to lend some authenticity". The excitement of the run combined with the music outside and the fat guy snoring 5 feet away equaled very little sleep for me.

    At 6:30 am, we woke up and all 6 of us headed to the start area. Halfway there we hooked up with a few more of their friends. One of the guys was in his 50’s or 60’s. He voiced his concerns about the run (he was nervous, worried and wondering why the hell he was here).  I was really surprised by how many people there were already. There was a lot of excitement in the air. It continued to get more and more crowded and we all struggled to keep our ‘personal space’. The walls and balconies of the buildings surrounding us were covered with people who had score excellent viewpoints. Brian coached us all on what to do and how to run. Everyone listened carefully. Bill was the only one of our crew that wasn’t joining us. He had taken our cameras and went looking for his own good viewpoint.  

	At 7:50 am, the first rocket was launched. This signaled the opening of the bull gates. People started to move and the sheer number of people forced us forward as well. Most people started to run right away even though the bulls were still far behind. Our group stuck together and tried not to go to far forward. When the crowd thinned out a bit we were able to hold our ground. Brian instructed us not to go any further forward till we saw the bulls. It was tense. It seemed to take a while but in reality it was only a few second. When he said go we started to run. I’m not sure which I was more afraid of – the bulls or falling in the crowd. I spent most of my attention on not falling and everything else on not getting a horn up my ass. It was such a rush! In no time, some of the bulls started to run past us. Seeing them so close was really wild. I couldn’t believe how big they were. They were just as freaked out as we were. Mike and I managed to stick together for the whole run. The scariest part was when we got close to the arena.  The approach and the entrance were very narrow, very crowded and the bulls were right behind us. People were wiping out all over the place and Mike and I had to jump over them in order not to fall. The last thing I wanted was to get trampled.

FINALLY, we got into the ring and managed to hook up with our buddies. There were smiles, pats on the back and ‘high fives’ all around. Some people thought it was over but I knew other wise. The gates didn’t close until the last bull was in and this took quite a while………I guess a couple of bulls were busy goring people out on the street. Eventually, the gates were close and we were more or less trapped in the arena. The only way out was to jump over the perimeter walls. Some people were wise enough to do this. A bull was released into the crowd. It appeared to be running around the periphery of the arena and that that was the most dangerous place to be. I suggested to Mike that we move to the center of the arena. Mistake #1. "Under no circumstances should you stay in the middle of the ring. Remember, now you're in the bull's territory, a wide open place where the bull rules. Without the protection of nearby fences, you're an easy prey for an animal that runs faster than you." On our way to the middle the area to our right seemed to clear and a huge black bull appeared. It made eye contact with us and then it charged from about 20 meters away. Mike was on my left and someone else was on my right. Mike was holding onto my shirt. Mistake #2 – I was trying to think ‘Left or right, left or right, left or right’. I felt boxed in by Mike and the other guy on either side of me. I must have turned to the right just as 500kg of fast moving bull hit me. I don’t remember exactly what happened to me but I managed to piece it together from my wounds.

    Breathing REALLY hurt but I managed to get some air into me and go in search of Mike. I found him again outside of the clinic and we watched the rest of the ‘carnage’ (perhaps a slight exaggeration) from the safe side of the barrier. My ribs were killing me and it was hard to stand up straight. I guess I was in a bit of shock because I felt really dazed. Because I could hardly move and I didn’t want to get knocked around by anyone, we waited for most of the crowd to leave after the bulls were away. Unfortunately, we never managed to hook up with the guys that we started the run with. We went in search of Bill.

	When I had a couple of clear minutes, I assess the damage. My ribs were cracked, the back of my left leg had been stepped on, two of my teeth were chipped, the bridge of my nose felt broken, the space between my upper and lower lip was split open nicely, I had road rash all around my right eye and forehead, and my right wrist and knuckles were scratched up a bit. A black eye developed later. Even though I felt like shit and didn’t look any better, I had a real sense of accomplishment. Getting hit wasn’t fun but it was kind of cool and would definitely prove to be a good travel story.

    The next day, when I woke up, my head was pounding, my neck hurt, the road rash on my face looked pretty gross and the cuts around my lips were proving to be a real pain when it came to eating. We decided that due to a lack of time and the condition of my body we would skip going to Andorra. I wasn’t in any shape to be lugging around my gear any more than I had to. Mike seemed pleased with the change of plans.

    A couple of days later, we took the night train to Lisbon, Portugal. (Put postcard map here) When we got to the Portuguese border, we had to get off the train and take a bus the rest of the way because the there was a train strike or something like that. We were forced to sit with some unbelievably annoying people that had ‘done Europe’.

    I really liked Lisbon. Although we didn’t spend much time there, I liked what I saw. We had two priorities while in the city. First was to find tickets to Ireland and second was to find a way down south to Lagos. After examining my budget and time, I decided not to go to Ireland with Mike and Bill. Although I really wanted to go, I thought it would be too much of a whirl wind trip. I had just finished a really stressful period at home and really wanted to relax. Mike and Bill managed to find some cheap tickets that fit their schedule. We spent most of the rest of the day walking around, drinking beer on the coast and formulating plans on how I could get back to Japan.

    The next morning, we took the train to Lagos. We had been told that it was a really fun little beach town. We spent about 5 days in Lagos and had a great time there. We drank A LOT, hanged out at the beach, met some (gay?) Swedes and some funny Australians. Mike and Bill tried ‘big game’ fishing but had no luck catching anything. Lagos was a beautiful little town with lots of tile covered houses(picture), cobblestone streets and tones of bars, cafes and restaurants. There was no shortage of cute girls either! It was a really nice place to relax and do nothing.

    On July 16^th, Mike and Bill took the train back up to Lisbon and flew to Ireland. I hanged out in Lagos for a few more days before returning to Lisbon myself.

    I only had three full days in Lisbon before I had to catch a flight home. I tried hooking up with Paul but it turned out that he never made it to Portugal. Instead, I spent two days sight seeing with a nice Slovenian girl name Katja. We visited a great little town called Sintra, got stranded at the most westerly point in Europe, had dinner in a nice little town and then caught a train back to Lisbon……………..all in one day! The next day, we visited a beautiful monastery, and some monuments and castles along the coast. I also managed to pick up a bottle of Absynto (Absinthe ) at a grocery store.

    I wished Katja well and returned to my hotel to pack and get ready for my early(5:00 am) departure the next day.

    My 3^rd decade celebration had finally come to an end. Apart from a few bruises, everything had gone very well. I had had a great time seeing a bit of Europe with my friends, meeting some nice people and seeing some beautiful sights……….not to mention having a head on collision with a big, black bull………….and surviving! And if you think I look bad you should see the bull!