Running with the Bulls in Pamplona

Robert is a Hemmingway fan. He is also at that age where men start to buy sport cars and create a tick list of 'things I want to do before I die'. One of the things on this list was running with the bulls in Pamplona. This is a long established tradition in Pamplona. It started as part of the celebrations of St Fermin. This is San Fermin below. He is in the cathedral.

Being Spain, you have to celebrate the feast day of your saint with bull fights. The running of the bulls started off as a simple exercise in logistics. The bull ring in Pamplona (see photo below) is in the middle of the city. The corral for the bulls is on the edge of the city. How do you get the bulls from the corral to the bull ring? Simple: you run then through the streets of the town. How do young men (and not quite so young men) demonstrate their masculinity? Equally simple: you run along with the bulls.


After Hemmingway wrote about this in 'The Sun Also Rises' (published in 1926), the running of the bulls gained international attention. The increase in tourism at this time of the year is quite staggering. Hotel and restaurant prices trebble and to even get a hotel, you have to book months in advance. The celebrations for San Fermin rum from July 6 to July 14. This is not the actual feast day of San Fermin, but the city council decided to move the celebrations to this date because the weather was nicer at this time of year and it was a better time of year to get tourists.

You may have noticed in the bull ring photo and the photo above, people are dressed in white, have red sashes around the middle and have a red hankerchief around their neck. This is not a flattering look unless you are toned and fit, however, this is the traditional running with the bulls outfit. You can buy all of this in shops in Pamplona.

Above is Robert, dressed for the part. Take note of the short trousers. These are also traditional.

You will also notice in this photo that there are wooden rails. These run all the way from the corral to the bull ring and are set up for the festival. The route is 825 metres and is slightly uphill. The average length of time it takes to run from start to finish is three minutes. This is not a straight route, there are a couple of notorious twists and turns.

We were booked into our hotel for two nights. On day one, we walked the lenght of the route. Robert had a simple plan. He didn't actually want to run with the bulls behind him. He would find some nice safe doorway that he could tuck into, wait for the bulls to pass and then run behind him. Given that the run is over very quickly, I wanted to make sure that I had a good viewing spot. I have been told that people along the route rent their balconies. So, I asked around and got myself a balcony. We identified a nice doorway near my balcony. The run starts at 8am. Runners are asked to be in the running area for 7:30. They are asked to not bring any cameras or recording equipment (the idea being that many injuries are caused by some idiot in front of you stopping to take photos). So, the next morning, Robert claims his spot at the door. I claim my space on the balcony.

You will notice the that everyone is holding a folded newspaper. You are supposed to use this to hit the bull with if one gets too close. You may also notice the girl. Strictly speaking, girls are not allowed to do the run. The police weed them out of the crowd, along with anyone with cameras, and people who are drunk. Somehow, the police didn't notice her.

Robert's careful plan then hit a snag. What neither of us knew was that the police go along the length of the run and herd the runners into their own corral. So just before the run, the streets were empty. At 8am, a rocket is fired to confirm that the gate of the bull corral has been opened. The runners are supposed to say a quick prayer to San Fermin. A second rocket announces that the bulls have left the corral.

Robert had decided to modify his plan. He would try to return to his doorway, tuck in until the bulls passed and then run behind. This, however, hit yet another snag. Each day there are 6 fighting bulls and some bullocks. Robert, thought that he had counted up correctly as they went past him and so he started running. What he hadn't realised was that he was missing one! He later reported that when he realised this, he ran all the way into the bull ring and then quickly hopped over the rail. Apparently one of the worst places for accidents is the actual bull ring itself.

The photo above is a scanned post card. After Robert's run, we met up and had breakfast. Robert decided that he needed a rest and I decided to wander around town. One of the things I had decided to do was to surprise Robert with tickets to the nights bull fight so that he could see 'his bulls'. Normally, I am against bull fighting. However, I was also curious about it.

Robert was delighted with this surprise. One of the things that surprised us both was just what a party atmosphere it had. When we arrived at the bull fight in the evening there were people selling food and iced buckets of wine. We took our seats and were surrounded with Spanish families (including children) and their picnic baskets. I really do hate to say that I quite enjoyed the bull fights. So, Robert and I drank wine and watched as the first bull came out. The families around us were tucking into their picnic baskets: a real family outing!

The crowd booed and cheered based on the performance of the matador and bandillieras (the guys with the sticks). The biggest boos were for a matador that didn't manage to kill the bull with only one stab of the sword. What you are looking for in a good fight is a matador who takes some risks and a clean, quick kill at the end. Now, I am sure that some of you are thinking: what a horrible way for an animal to die. But, it is really? Think about that steak on your plate. This came from an animal that transported to an abattoir full of a lot of frightened animals that could sense that they were to die and then they get a bolt shot into their head. At least a fighting bull gets a chance to get back at the matador and dies with dignity.

One of the stranger aspects of the San Fermin celebration was the wood cutting contest. The photo above shows a competitive log slicing event (with chain saws). Very bizarre, but also quite compelling to watch. We both felt very Canadian getting enjoyment out of watching men with chainsaws.

What I haven't mentioned up to now was the route we took to get to Pamplona. We flew from Glasgow to Vittorio airport near Bilbao. We stayed over night in Bilbao. This is a fantastic city. The big thing to see here is the Guggenheim Art museum. This is an amazing building.

The surface is covered in titaniam. Because of the curves and reflectivity, the building looks different depending on the time of day. It is next to the river and to reflect a 'tie with water' the building has its own moat.

Below is a view from down the street. Note the dog shaped thing. This is a wire mesh dog that has been planted with flowers. Not exactly something that I would have in my garden, but I guess that art is art.
I much more preferred this spider sculpture.
After Bilbao, given that we were in northern Spain, Robert and I then went to Rioja. This is a region, not a town. We stayed in the pretty little village of Laguardia.


This (and Bilbao) are in the Basque region of Spain (as this wall plaque in a bar in Laguarida proudly advertises).


Of course, when in Rioja, one does have to do a wine tour. This is El Fabulista. They are a small operation and they still crush the grapes by stepping on them.

Laguarida is built on a limestone hill. The underside of the village has been carved out into wine cellars.
Finally, here is a view of the Rioja region (taken from the terrace outside of our hotel room). So this is where all that nice red stuff comes from.

Down the River without a Paddle: The Final Chapter

On day three, the final day of the boat trip, we woke to a breakfast of coffee and and cheese empanadas. To make an empanada you take some bread dough and make it flat like a mini pizza. Then you fill it with something (usually cheese), fold the dough over and fry it in oil. When freshly made, these are lovely. Thanks to Silvia, ours were.

We then head down river for a couple of hours. Our destination is the edge of a newly formed national park. A national park in Bolivia is a different kettle of piranhas from a Canadian national park. The setting up of a national park is fraught with conflict. On the one hand, the government wants pacify the tree huggers by setting up parks, on the other hand, they have to deal with locals who make use of this land. So, strangely enough, mining is still allowed in the national park as long as it is just small scale mining. Also, it is permitted to fell trees near established settlements so that locals can have fields for crops for their own consumption. The proviso here is that you can only cut down secondary forest, not primary forest. Primary forest is where you have long established big trees. A secondary forest is regrowth after a fire or previous felling of trees. So, our boat lands at the border of the park and Ivan explains how national parks in Bolivia work.

Just before we make landfall, we pass a small mining community. They are living in tents made out of blue plastic. Ivan explains to us that in recent months, trees have been cut down by locals to make fields.

The locals are paid by our tour group to maintain a jungle trail for tourists. However, they didn't bother to make a trail through all of this destruction. We had to climb over trees and brush to get to the edge of the secondary forest to the start of the path in the primary forest.

On the way, we passed this tree.

Some of you may remember a similar looking tree from my last entry with Robert standing in front of it. This tree, if anything, was bigger. All the tourists agreed that this looked pretty 'primary forest' even though it was in a secondary forest area. We asked Ivan about this. He sighed. He said that he thought that cutting down such trees was clearly illegal and bad. However, the parks were very underfunded with regards to rangers. So, who would ever come and catch these people? We then enter the primary forest and followed our 'trail'.


We stopped in the middle of this. Ivan said: 'look at the lianas'. Have you ever seen any of the Tarzan movies? This is the type of vine he swings on. Essentially, these are aerial roots that come down from the top of particular trees to plant themselves to the ground, but haven't made it yet. They are like a very thick, trunk like rope. Ivan encouraged us to have a go. You need strong hand to do the Tarzan thing. Most of us were crap, but this guy (French) managed to hand on long enough for us to get photos.

Now for my favorite tree. For those of you who liked the 'cone' tree, brace yourselves for 'the tree that walks'.
We arrive at this tree. Ivan says: 'Who thinks that trees can walk?'. I have read the Lord of the Rings (thanks to Robert for buying me the books, taking me to the movies and giving me the DVD set). I remember the Ents. So I say: 'Yes, I believe that trees can walk'. Everyone else, including Robert, looks at me as if I have taken leave of my senses and says 'no'. Ivan smiles and says: 'Nicole is right. These trees do walk'. I was quite shocked to be right. How can trees walk without the digital effects guys?.

Below is yet another photo of the same tree. It is a shame that the jungle is so enclosed that I can't show you a proper photo of this tree from head to foot. The middle bit, looks like any normal tree trunk (normal in an Amazonian sense). The bottom, however, is like we see in the photo above and below. The bottom is a group of trunk/root like things that look like teepee poles. So, you have the teepee root stuff happening and then the main trunk is above this. If you look closely at the base of each 'teepee' pole, you will see a similar structure repeated (like a fractal). According to Ivan, locals say that these trees do move over time. If soil conditions are more favorable on one half of the tree, more roots will plant themselves there. The non-viable roots die off. Similar things happen with events like lightening strikes, animals chewing the bark, etc. So, over the course of a year, a tree could move a few inches. Would you or I notice? Probably not! Would a local notice? Yes. Speaking of animals, Ivan did point out that if you were travelling in the jungle, you needed to take a note of where these trees are. If you are ever attacked by wild boars, you could always run back to this tree and tuck yourself in the root/trunk structure. He then took us to a place where he thought that there might be wild boars.

In the photo above, you can see Ivan's machete (big serious sword like knife). One of the things that impressed me about Ivan was that he announced even before we got off the boat on day three that he thought that trees should be untouched and that if anyone asked him to cut into a tree for whatever reason, he would refuse (unless for medicinal purposes). All very eco sound, however, I did point out to him that the previous day, our local guide cut off one the cones from 'the cone tree' because one of our group had asked: 'what does it taste like'? Ah! He didn't know that this was happening.
Here is Ivan yet again, in front of a big tree. You might be thinking: 'OK! It's a big tree! So what! Well this is a curare tree. Curare is a very very lethal poison that Amazonian natives use to hunt. They tip their arrow heads with a solution made from the sap of this tree. So even if an arrow wounds and animal, it will die. Having grown up reading Agatha Christie and being a big CSI fan, I thought: 'curare! cool!'.

At the end of the jungle tour, we get back into the boat. This is a shot of the 'tree that walks'. You can't really see the root structure here, but the tree that we are talking about is the palm like tree. There is more than one and they do have a prehistoric look. To be honest, looking at these trees, I did feel like I was in a 'lost world' (interestingly enough, the 'Lost World' book was based on a different part of Bolivia that is now a 'national park'.


We are now back in the boat. We were told that 'after the rapids' that Silvia was going to cook us rice and fried chicken. She was cooking this on the boat, as we went down river. Even though my Spanish is excellent, I was thinking: 'that can't be right! Silvia can't be cooking lunch ON the boat as we go down river'? This indeed was the case. Ivan announced that after the rapids that Silvia would start cooking on board. Added to our feast was a catfish that Peta had caught in the morning. Silvia was in the back of the boat for cooking. Were were in the front. Plates of food were passed up and people were told who the intended consumer was. We all got plates with a bit of rice, some fried chicken and a bit of Peta's catfish (strange texture and quite earthy tasting). After we had been served, she cooked up for the crew. Peta (standing at the front of the boat directing us through rapids and shoals) was served last. What was passed up from the back was an enormous plate of rice, some small bits of chicken and fried in batter fish fins (and tail). Robert and I sat amazed as this disappeared into Peta. As we handed back his empty plate, you could see the faces of the tourists who handed the full plate up to us and Peta: 'my god, he actually ate all of it'. Again, for eating battered fish fins and thinking that this was a good meal, Peta is still our 'hard man of Bolivia' winner for 2007.

After lunch, the boat pulls up at a place where Ivan says we can swim. Like you, we were all thinking piranahs, rayfish (a new concern) an other beasties. Ivan said: 'don't worry, this is a nice stream with a waterfall'. So, the boat arrives and Peta, parks us up.

We all get out and go to a swimming pool which is literally a bit of river with crystal clear water that comes over a small waterfall, ends up in a pool of rocks and then ends up in the river you are now all familiar with. Ivan told us that we could swim here. We were all told about this when we booked the trip, so we all had packed bathing suits.

My hair is tied back and I am amongst bikini clad French and Australian girls and my feet are floating to the surface in my Corsican sandals (yet another tale), but yes this is me loving being clean for the first time in three days. This place really was beautiful. While we had our 30 min of play in the water, Peta was fishing (yet again). I dried off, put on boat clothes and arrived back at the boat well before the others. As I was getting into the boat, I noticed that Peta had caught a ray fish. It was on his line for 10 seconds and then unhooked itself and set of on its way. So no photo. I mentioned to Ivan that Peta had caught a rayfish. He was very upset as this was against park rules. Given that Peta was doing this while we were all swimming, I don't think that what he did was for tourist photos. Peta lives in the Amazon. Like Silvia, he loves fish and fishing and simply wanted to see what he could get (for Silvia to prepare) while we were swimming. In case you were wondering, I did ask about piranahs. I was told that they were very tasty, but boney. In any case, there are now protected so no tourist should get them on their plate.

As we travel down river, the sides get a bit steeper and the river narrows .

Here is a good photo of Robert. This is much better than the dynamite photo in a previous post. Note the hat. This is aTilley hat. This is a famous Canadian brand of hat. I have one which Robert's mother bought me as a present. I wore during this trip, but you never see this because I was taking all the photos.

As we were exiting the park, we were required to pull in and pay our park fee (i.e this is the end of the park we first visited in the morning). This hadn't been included in the tour price. However, we had been informed of that before the trip and so gathered up enough money to allow us to pass out of the park. Before pulling into the Ranger Station, we were issued our 'life jackets'. These were prehistoric artefacts, like things I had seen on WWI films. As strange as this was, we all put on our 'life jackets' and pulled into the Ranger station. After we were around the next bend of the river, we handed the life jackets back. This could potentially seem shocking, but to be honest, what would happen if the boat sunk? Would a life jacket have saved any of us? Most of us would have made our way to the shore (where the real adventure would have begun).

In the next boat at the Ranger station (parked next to us and paying up) was this guy. I clearly thought: 'strange man'. Everyone else in our boat looked at this almost theatrical version of what the ultimate tourist would look like. I was the only one who actually brought out their camera and shot a photo of this creature. Why only me? I was the only one who had brought extra batteries for my digital camera ( I sucked back two batteries a day for three days, so imagine the ph0tos I haven't posted).

A couple of hour later, the sun started to set as we reached Rurrenabaque (this place merits its own post). After this, it was too dark for good photos. Enjoy this view of the sun setting on part of the Bolivian Amazonian river system that feeds into the Amazon.

Down the River without a Paddle Part Three

This is the boat being packed up for day two on the river. Spot the blue plastic! After a few hours down the river, we stopped off a at 'the last place on the river where you can buy provisions until the end'. For many, this meant 'last chance to buy cigarettes, booze or chocolate' (things not provided by Silvia, our cook).


So, this is the main street. Below are a few photos that give you a closer look at the market stalls.


You can see that plastic goods, fruit and small household items are popular.

I particularly like this shot of a guy using a hack saw to chop up his meat (and the expectant dog below).

This is the pirate DVD area. You can buy 'illegal' DVDs and CDs all over Bolivia. The police, however, don't seem very interested. What I particularly like about this photo is that it illustrates the average Bolivian taste in films. You get a lot of action (accion) films. Note how Bruce Lee and Jean Claude Van Damme get their own sections. There is also a small comedy section (with its own Jackie Chan subsection). Travel on any long distance bus in Bolivia that has a working TV/video and you will inevitably watch a Van Damme or Steven Segal film. I have two theories on why these films are so popular. While living in Ecador, a friend of mine who had done his year of military service mentioned that every night in the army barracks, they would get films as entertainment. In order to toughen them up, they were shown action films that had a clear good vs bad guy element (like Segal's movies). Bolivia also has a compulsory year of military service for young men. It wouldn't surprise me at all if they do something similar and create a fan base for such movies. Another explanation is that these action films don't have much dialogue and so are easy and quick for the pirate people to translate and subtitle. I have seen a few of these pirated films myself and the translation from the English into Spanish subtitles isn't 100% accurate, so I am assuming that the translation wasn't 'officially' done by the Hollywood studios guys.

We finish shopping and head back to the river for our next stop.


This a small village that has an 'arrangement' with the tour company. We docked our boat and walked a short distance from the shore to the village. Below, you can see some meat (wild boar and fish) drying in the sun. Up in the Andes, it is quite common to freeze dry meat in the open. At night, it is freezing, at day, the sun is quite intense and evaporates some of the water. Freezing again over night drives more water to the surface and so on. The Inca used to do this and used freezed dried meat on long trips. I had no idea they do this in the Amazon basin.


We had been told that were were going to have lunch in this village. We all looked at this drying meat with some degree of horror. We were reassured that such delights were not for us. We were allocated a bench and picknic table under a tree (clearly constructed for 'touristas' on the boat trip). Silvia then disappeared into one of the huts with her supplies to cook us lunch. We had been told by Ivan, our guide, that this would take about an hour. In the meantime, he suggested that we play volleyball.

Mamoo asked in one of her comments: why does everyone where white? It is because all of the guide books say that mosquitos (who can be carriers of malaria (but apparently not in this part of the world at this time of the year) don't like white or light colours). Robert, to his credit, joined in the fray. Playing volleyball in a sweltering heat was not my idea of fun. I very quickly volunteered to be scorekeeper (which involved using a stick to keep score in the sand). The Australians turned out to be excellent at jungle volleyball. Lunch was served. This consisted of soup as a first course, followed by stew with rice and then more fruit. While eating, some spotted something odd happening with our shelter tree.

Take a close look. These are caterpillars that join together from head to end in order to appear as one longer creature (and hence scare off predators). We all thought that this was very cool. I especially took this photo for Mira, who likes insects. She would like the jungle.

After lunch, the boats were packed up and continued along the river. We were handed over to a local guide. The general idea was that he would take us on a jungle tour and point out important plants. We would then end up where the boat crew has set up camp further along the river. I gather that the village got a cut of the action for this service. What I quite liked about this was that the village hadn't been turned into a 'tourist trap' with villagers putting on 'native' shows or trying to sell us 'native' handicrafts.

The jungle has all sorts of strange trees, including this one below. Apparently, the cone like things can be cut off and eaten if you were lost and hungry in the jungle. Our guide cut one off for us. The cone was hard and woody and it was quite hard to imagine how one could survive by eating this (but I guess that one has to be starving and lost to find out).


Other interesting trees include this one. By looking at the person in the photo, you can get an idea of the size of the tree.

We also saw lots of leaf cutter ants. They run on trails. They strip bits of leaves down and cart them back to their nest. They don't eat the leaves, but the mould that grows on the leaves plays an important role in feeding the ants. Apparently, these guys can strip down a nylon tent over night. We had read this in the guidebook. Robert had thought that it was a myth. However, when we asked Ivan about this, he confirmed it. Unlike Silvia and Peta, Ivan is not from the jungle. He is from La Paz, but loves the jungle. He said that on one of his first tours, he didn't know enough to check out any potential campsites for leaf cutter ant trails. In the middle of the night, the tourist tents were literally chewed apart. Everyone ended up spending an unhappy night huddled in the boat.

We continued along a jungle trail...

To this rather brackish looking pond.
This is where we tried piranha fishing. A number of people who have commented on my blog have asked: 'what is there under that river water'. Believe it or not, the answer is 'rayfish'. You are thinking: 'does she mean like manta rays? Those kite shaped salt water fish with very dangerous and sometimes lethal spikes? The answer is yes. I didn't believe it myself until Peta actually managed to catch one with his fishing line on day three (it escaped before I could photo it). We found out about the ray fish thing when one of the tourists asked Ivan if the river was OK for swimming. He said: 'Yes, but you have to through a rock in first to scare away the rayfish, because they like to lie in the shallows and will sting you if you step on them'. One of our Aussies thought about this for a full minute and then realised that he could throw a stone in to scare the rayfish away when he went in, but how would he get back out. I mention this because we all thought that piranhas lived in the river and were surprised to be taken to this pond. According to our guide, they don't really like fast running water (like the river). They prefer ponds. Fishing piranhas involves using just a simple line and hook. Our guide produced a number of lines and hooks from his rucksack and baited them with 'meat'. I am unsure of what the 'meat' was, but it looked like fish guts. I am glad to know that they have a use.

So, we took turns on the shore of the pond with our lines and hooks. You tossed your line into the water and waited for a nibble. When you had one, you had to jerk hard to hook the fish. When you put your line in, you could feel the fish nibbling at the bait. Each time I jerked back, I didn't catch anything, but you could see less and less meat on your hook each time you recast. One of the Aussies (part of our volleyball championship winning team) actually caught not one, but two of them. Here is her first catch!

Our guide removed the fish from the hook to toss back into the pond. However, before he did that, he used a stick to show us its teeth. Sorry about the blur, my zoom isn't very good.

I know that Simon and Liam enjoy fishing. I hope they enjoy the piranha photos.

After the excitement of fishing was over, we were lead again through the jungle and ended up on a beautiful and extensive flat bit of beach. Our tents were set up. Silvia had the food almost ready. We had a few minutes to claim our tent and unpack our personal kit.

The day ended with a great sunset. Interestingly, this is something I haven't seen very often in my South American travels. In the mountains, there is usually something large and snow capped in front of you, so the horizon isn't low enough for you to see the sunset.

The next post will finish off our boat trip.