Cadiz and San Sebastian were both described to me as really good beach towns and vacation destinations for the local Spaniards. Since I had already missed my opportunity to go to San Sebastian when I was up by Pamplona, I opt for the southern coast of Spain, Cadiz. Lauren from Croatia had described it as a really good relaxing atmosphere and I have to say that she was wrong. Upon arrival by train I find out that there is a festival going on and we have just arrived at the start of it.
There are people everywhere and all the hostels we look are booked. At this point we are almost ready to try sleeping on the beach, not a bad idea, but the hassle of police made us look a little harder. Finally by some chance of luck we are able to find a pension, like a hostel, but cheaper that had enough room for Tino, Rick, Dwayne, Kim and I. And luckily it is also the cheapest place in town.

The entire town seems to have having a sale and there is imitation stuff everywhere. The streets are really crowded and there is not much of a tourist scene here, as far as international tourists. We are all able to catch a free flamenco dancing show in one of the squares. I would describe it as a random display of tape dancing, body motions and clapping of the hands. It is quite a treat for being free. The main square area has a cathedral and during the evening when it is less crowded Tino and I just chill at the steps to catch the free wifi that’s available in the square. At night there are gardeners setting up a floral area in the middle of the square.

The beaches of the Cadiz are the highlights of the trip. The water is clear and refreshing. The tide changes quit dramatically between low and high tides. At night the tide is low and the water increases in depth really slowly. You can actually sprint 100m before you are waist deep in water. During the day the waters rise so fast that many of the sun worshippers have to frequently move farther up the beach to avoid the waves. The first night we head out to the beach and ended up doing some night swimming. We even got as far as the far buoy. All in all Cadiz was a really relaxing experience.

We spend most of the time just relaxing in Granada. During the day the weather is too hot to do too much so we are either inside the hostel hanging out in the upstairs terrace area or drinking and eating tapas in the tapas bars found throughout Granada. One awesome thing about the funky backpacker’s hostel is that they serve home cooked meals every evening. This evening they are serving paella, which is a traditional Spanish dish which usually involves rice, garlic, saffron and some kind of meat (chicken, beef and seafood). Today seafood paella is on the menu and I decide to stay for that. We hung out with the Aussie girls again despite the fact that they recommended the regretful thermal pool experience.

The last night in Granada Tino, Rick, Dwayne and Kim were all able to get 5 person apartment together. During one of the runs back to the apartment we had trouble opening our door with the key and even the manager could not open it. At that point a group of Aussies that were staying in our building wanted to help. So Tino climbed on top of one of their shoulders and climbed up through our second story balcony. That night we all went out with the Aussies to celebrate. The Irish pub we went to had a promotion where if you buy a Jameson shot you get a scratch card to win prizes. Somehow we were all able to win shirts off the same ticket and no one actually had to buy any shots.

During the evening I had to switch hostels from Funky Backpackers to Makuto Backpackers Hostel. This new hostel is up the hill from our old hostel. Although there is no ac it has much more character and a better chill area. There is a zen garden and the common area is filled with hammocks. If I had more time I would have definitely stayed longer than one night.

While recovering from the almost vertical climb up, I talk to some of the receptionists at Makuto hostel and they inform me of several attractions near this new hostel. One of them was a great view point for the Alhambra and that night, Tino, Jorick, and Dwayne all climb up to the area. Alhambra translates to “the red fortress” and was one of the residences of the Muslim rulers of Granada. It is the major attraction of Granada.

The sun had already set and it was night time. Alhambra was lit up and was the only bright building on the other side of the hill. At the vantage point, there were tons of tourists taking pictures of the building. We were easily able to find it because of all the flash photography that marked the area clearly from the distance. The moon is out and revealed an overcast of dark blue clouds hovering over the building.

The Alhambra is decorated with gardens and water features. In fact water flows throughout the entire structure via water fountains and drainages flowing from top to bottom. There is a ton of details in every part of the building from the tiles on the floors to the walls and windows.

After exiting the bus I walk up a broken sidewalk. It is covered in sand and dirt and is under construction. The buildings all around it are sand in color and the ground the architecture blends together seamlessly. It almost looks like the town straight of the black hawk down movie. The streets are not straight and wind left and right making orientation pretty difficult. The original path that was I had written down as blocked, but luckily I was able to find a pedestrian that knew where the hostel was.

The Funky Hostel is Granada is several floors tall with a open area in the middle. I am told that this type of housing is very traditional. At the bottom there is even a small fountain. At the very top is an open rooftop area where the kitchen and a enclosed hang out area is. At the moment, I sit at the bottom of the steps waiting for my turn at reception. Next thing I know I see Tino coming down the stairs and we quickly greet each other. It has been nearly 3 months since I’ve seen him and its good to have a friend from KC. Tino is a with Huynh, a Vietnamese guy from Mississippi, also an engineer, that is staying at our hostel. After getting situated in our room we head out to do some exploring of the town.

Granada is famous for tapas. Basically tapas bars sell drinks and then what can best be described as h’orderves are served for free with each drink purchase. The foods get better and better with each additional drink order. The first tapas bar we visit is located near the main strip in the town. The beers here are 2€ each, which I consider to be quite reasonable. During the middle of our first tapas session, Tino’s two Dutch friends, Rick and Dwayne, join us. They have just arrived from Barcelona. Later that night we visit another tapas bar along with two Canadians from our hostel, Phillipe and Anh.

Not feeling like partying too hard that night, we all sign up for a hot springs trip. The two Aussie girls in my room had told me about it when I first got to the room and being our first night it sounded like a good idea. The cost was 11€ which would included transportation to the hot springs and back from the main square in Granada. A minivan, along with a 4 door hatchback, comes and picks us up. They ask for money immediately and then stop off at the gas station where we are given an opportunity to buy some beverages for the hot springs. In the end the hotsprings turns out to be pretty lame and is just a pipe in the middle of nowhere shooting warm water into a pool.

Cristina’s parents Tina and Antonio welcomed me into their home with open arms. One of the first things I discovered is this wonderful drink called tinto verano. Tinto means red wine and verano means summer. The basics of the drink consist of red wine and sparkling water. Some places use lemon Fanta in place of the sparkling water and usually lemon and limes slices as a garnish. Communication in house was a bit difficult at first as I had not used my Spanish in so long. However after the first couple of days I could carry on conversations.

Throughout the course of the week I would take the metro towards the center of the town and visit various locations on my tourist map. My favorite included walking about the gardens and parks. The parks are huge and there are lots of trees providing ample shade from the summer heat. One of the parks even had a large pond area full of koi where row boats can be rented. Below are some of the locations that I visited.

Near the tourist areas the pedestrian crossing signals are different. Usually around the edges of the city it is the typical green man red man. However in the busier areas there is an animated green man. When the signal starts he starts walking. A timer on the side is displayed in orange and counts down the amount of time left to cross. As the time gets closer to zero, the green man begins to pick up his walking pass into a full out run. During all of this bird chirping sounds are made indicating that it is safe to cross. This is much better than beeps, clicks, or laser sounds I’ve heard everywhere else.

On the morning of the 17th, Antonio wakes me up in the morning in preparation for my 7:45am train. Tina wakes up later, as she had stayed up late working on the computer. We have a quick breakfast and she fixes me a bocadillo as usual for lunch. Bocadillo con lomo was what I would have for lunch which is a type of meat. This specific meat is from Antonio’s home town, like many items that I have eaten throughout the week. I hop on the train to Granada and watch the desert like landscape pass by in the distance. The landscape is quite different from what I envisioned. Olive trees are neatly planted in lines and cover most of the scenery on the ride. The area looks dry and arid. The sun shines brightly through the window making it considerably hotter near the window, however with the AC blazing on this train it is not a problem.

The metro ride to Faby’s place was quick. In face it was only a few steps down from the train station Atocha Renfe. The metro system in Madrid is especially clean. There is hardly any trash on the floors and the carts are spotless. The icing on the cake is that the carts have air conditioning. There are even flat screen tv’s in the carts and in the stations playing news. I am quite impressed with Madrid’s metro.

I arrive to the first hostel that my friend Cristina recommended near the Opera metro stop. I come to find that they are booked full. I am able to stay in the common area to use the internet and quickly realized that all hostels are booked full for that night. I talk to Cristina over skype to see what I should do and she was able to get a hold of friend that could host me. Her friend Faby met me at another metro station and was able to walk me back to her apartment. Faby speaks perfect English and was nice enough to let me stay at her place. That day I walk around the city center and explored parts of Madrid.

As luck would have it all the museums are free on Sunday, so I go and visit them that evening. I was only made it to the Pardo museum. The Pardo museum is full of paintings and some of the famous ones include artists such as Bosch, Goya, and Rubens. In the museum I ran into a Chinese girl that I had met in Pamplona. She is from Hong Kong and recognized me when I was in the museum. By the time I got out, I found that the other museums were all closing.

That night I was suppose to move to Cristina’s parents place, but they had just returned that evening from a weekend trip. So after talking to Faby, I decided to stay one more night and go there the next day around noon, siesta time.

The second day I awake in the late afternoon. I walk back to the city center and was randomly able to meet up with the Drake group at the bag check. I check out my bag to brush my teeth and get out some money for the day. Across from the bag check is the public library where I use the internet. Tonight I was supposed to meet up with Christian a co-worker from Cerner. He had reserved a hotel room in Pamplona but his friends had all backed out of the trip. After calling the hotel and verify the booking and to see when I can check in to the room, I come to the realization that the hotel had somehow lost his booking. I email Christian and soon I hear back from. It seems that somehow the hotel had lost his reservations. So it seems that I am after all going to be sleeping in the parks the entire time. It doesn’t bother me that much since 90% of the people in Pamplona are doing the same.

Each time you check your bag you must again pay the 3.50€ daily fee. Not a bad price considering I am no paying for room and board. I check in both my big and small bag. I keep my driver’s license and some cash on me and check everything back in. The 3.50€ daily price is the set amount for 2 bags. You can always add more items, but if you check out anything the daily price needs to be paid again. With my Drake friends we go explore the city and try to find some food.

As the evening approaches we are all tired from the night before. The weather takes a turn and it becomes old. Luckily we all have camping equipment. I still had my bivy sack and thermarest air pad. We all go back to the bag check and get out our camping gear. The check-in guy tells us that we can bring the gear back before the run free of charge. We all head to the park and try to get some rest before we all run that morning. It was a cold night, but I sleep much better in the cold. My alarm goes off at 6am and we quickly pack up our gear to check back in.

We all stand just in front of dead man’s corner because usually right around there is the cut off point for getting into the stadium. Suddenly the police start pushing us down the street and off to the side. It turns out that we were in the wrong area and we were getting pushed away from the running area so the streets can be cleaned. We all scramble through the crowd to get to the designated area. After hopping over two fences and pushing our way through the hordes lined up along the path to watch we finally reach the running area behind dead man’s corner.

The first canon is heard and everyone start jumping up and down in anticipation of the run. The second canon blast is sounded and most people start to run, but we had been advised to wait to actually see the bulls before we started running. We wait for what seemed like 20 or 30 seconds before taking off. We round dead man’s corner as we see the first bull. As the first group of bulls runs past me one of them trips on the cobblestone and falls. The people around the bull slap it with sticks which force the bull to quickly get up and continue running. The second group of bulls passes me just before the stadium area and I am able to make it into the stadium.

Inside the stadium the people in the crowd cheer and we all celebrate. Then out of nowhere the first bull is released. I run around with the crowd for a while and actually manage to circle to the back of one of the bulls. As I recoil my arm to slap it as hard as I can on the ass I notice that there is actually lot of poop in that area of the bull. I quickly change the trajectory of my swing to land on its back. I continue to run with the crowd up until the third bull is released. When the third bull is released it charges towards me and another guy. I juke left and he jukes right, the bull follows him. The bulls head lifts upward as he hits the back of the guy. He does a flip in the air. Another Aussie and I help him to his feet. On the way up, I blood trickling from the back of his head. The back of his head has already swollen into a huge bump. We help to the first aid tents that line the edges of the stadium. It is at that point that I decide to hope over the wall and watch the action from the stands.

As I pack up my bags from the bag check I notice a familiar voice. It’s Liz, a Canadian that I met back in Nice, France. We are both on our way to the train station. She informs me that her fellow traveling partner Shjaan had been deported from the EU for overstaying her 90 day Schsengen Visa. Shjaan had thought that by going to the UK it would reset that 90day period. So when she went to Morocco and returned to Spain the immigration officer noticed that she had overstayed her visa. Thus she was forced on to the next flight back home to New Zealand.

From Paris I booked a ticket to Pamplona by way of San Sebastian. I was unable to use my Eurail since each train has only a limited number of passengers using the Eurail. It was 100€ to get to Pamplona, but this is a once in a lifetime event so I quickly choke up the dough. Furthermore I was unable to get a seat reservation, but I was still allowed to get a ticket, at full price of course. I was told to ignore the cart number to find any empty seat. Of course a person with a reservation ticket to that seat would get dibs over me.

After a brisk lunch, I hopped on the train around 3pm to arrive in Pamplona around 12am. As the ticket checker comes by, he glances at my ticket and starts speaking to me in French. It seems something is wrong with my ticket. At first I suspect that it is because I do not have a seat reservation, but the ticket office person had told me that I could sit in any seat available. The ticket checker can only speak French and soon he just leaves to check other people’s ticket. Lucky I was sitting next to some French Canadians who were able to somewhat make out what he was trying to tell me.

It turns out the train from Gard de Nord Paris to San Sebastian was paired with another destination. Since I was unable to a get a seat reservation on this train I just jumped on the first cart available and found the first empty seat. It turns out that half the carts go to one destination and the other half goes to another destination. The next stop was where the train would split in two and both travel towards their separate destinations. So I quickly hope off the train and speed walk towards the front of the train heading to San Sebastian.

The train is filled with people going to Pamplona for San Fermin. A lot of people are already dressed for the event. There is quite a large group of people staying in hostels in San Sebastian and training down to Pamplona for the evening. We all exit the train around 12am and walk towards the city center. On our walk there we see people passed out along the grassy areas, groups of people drinking and everyone is dressed in white and red, the traditional colors of the runners.

We all arrive at the city center and head directly towards the 24/7 bag check setup in the middle school of Pamplona especially for this festival. Just outside the steps of the building I notice a lot of commotion and a flood of people running out from one alleyway. I look down and notice two guys couched low, knee bent, arms out, facing each other. Then next thing I know they start slashing at each other. They were knife fighting. A few swings and slices and the fight quickly dissipates as fast as it had started. Both parties run towards opposite directions. One of them is holding their arm as he stumbles away. As quickly as the streets had cleared for this fight, people fill the alleyway once again and then the partying resumes as normal.

The first thing you notice is the smell. In Europe it is particularly normal to smell foul scents here and there while walking around on the streets. In Pamplona during San Fermin however the entire city smells like urine, beer, and sangria. I kid you not the entire city reeks of this stench. The streets are full of empty plastic cups, broken beer bottles, wine bottles, and trash in general. It would be later along my travels that I would meet several people that thought it was a good idea to wear flip flops and cut their feet on shards of glass.

The second thing is the amount of people out. The streets packed with a sea of people in white and red. They are singing, drinking, and parading down every street inside the town. It literally seems like every street intersection we approach there is another parade of drums, music and people chanting in Spanish. People hand us drinks when they notice that we don’t have anything in our hands. It is one big celebration.

We all quickly head over to the market area where t-shirts, pants, bandanna, and belts are sold. The entire outfit is haggled down to 15€ which is not bad at all. We all quickly join in the celebration and I lose track of all the people started out with in the crowd of white and red. None the less strangers are the closest of friends in this celebration. Salute, cheers, prost, and other various traditions are shouted at one another as we all drink and sing.

The morning comes quickly and around 6am we all head towards the running lanes. Public officials are constructing the guardrails that outline both sides of the running lanes. There are metal holes in the ground where the posts go. There are two layers of protection and people are only allowed to stand behind the second wall. The first wall is reserved for medics, photographers, police, and press. The police are there to push people that try to climb over the fence when they run, a big “no no” in the running of the bulls. As each section constructed it is quickly filled by people climbing to the top and sitting there.

I was lucky enough to find my drake friends from the train and jump in with their section. It was right before the lanes enter the stadium overlooking the last long straight stretch of the cobblestone paved streets. We all sit uncomfortably on the wall which consists of two wooden posts roughly 6 ass cheeks apart with two horizontal wooden beams connecting the two vertical posts. We all sit and sing songs while sweepers clean up the large objects and a street cleaning machine sprays down the cobblestone path.

There is a section of the path that is a sharp downhill 90degree left turn. This is known as dead man’s corner, meaning if you are on the outside edge of this turn when the bulls come running by you’re a dead man. The bulls have no traction on the wet cobblestone and usually fly into the outside edge of the turn. This section of the wall is reinforced with sheet metal.

The first canon shot is heard at 8am signaling to the runners that the bulls are ready. The second canon shot signals that the bulls have been released. There are two groups of bulls totally 6 in each group that are released. Almost the entire path is filled with people and bulls fly past parting the sea of people right down the middle. The entire run lasts less than 4 minutes, if it does longer something went wrong. Thus most of the time, the bulls run past the runners giving them a mere glimpse of the beasts. Unfortunately for the few unlucky ones the bulls run over them. Most of the goring does not actually happen in the run.

As the last pack of bulls run by we all jump down from the wall and run along the path to try to get into the stadium. I was unable to get in through the running path, but I was quick enough to go in through the main doors that you usually have to pay to get in. Only the front pack of runners is allowed into the stadium. There a celebration occurs and shortly afterwards young bulls are let out into the sea of people. This is when most of the goring occurs. The entire crowd of people shifts around like a school of fish avoiding a predator. Some people try to come back behind the bull to try to slap it on the back. As this happens the bull quickly turns around is able to hit some people. After a while a bigger bull is brought into the stadium and the young bull’s herding instinct allows it to follow the larger bull out of the stadium. When this happens another celebration occurs before the process is repeated and another young bull is brought in. After around 5 or 6 bulls the event is over.

Most people journey towards the parks and grassy areas to sleep. After losing track of all my friends again I head towards the big park with the mobs of people and pass out under the shade of a tree. Throughout the day I awake to the heat of direct sunlight and switch my sleeping position to where I am again under the shade. A cool breeze blows throughout the entire day and the park is a peaceful shelter from the noise of the previous night’s partying.