The morning of the San Fermin festival opening, after Tom and Dave's extensive preparation, we started with a hearty breakfast...
And caught a taxi in from our hotel (which was in the outskirts of the city). It took about ten steps for us to start seeing this... the start of many Sangria-drenched revellers.
Of course I kept my eye out for attractive buildings... the key to enjoying any street party, right?
Especially when there are cardboard bulls greeting you from every balcony.
Tom then decided to do a bit of bull-surfing practice... you never know when that skill will come in handy!
Dave prefers the peaceful option...
Where the boys were pleased to see that all their work coordinating our wardrobes paid off.
All that pristine white was going to be short-lived, though. The popular activity in that main square was tomato sauce and egg throwing.
Needless to say, we gave them a wide berth.
Dave was our first casualty.
Others had decided to go for a different dress code...
Perhaps that strategy works! The majority of the people actually looked like this.
Or this.
Or this...
Or this.
Dave and Tom got themselves their first Sangrias for the day...
It was madness. Think Sangria being thrown everywhere, people on upstairs balcony dumping buckets of water all over the crowd, and constant chants of "Ole Ole Ole Ole".
Tom and Dave decided to brave the crowds and attempt to get closer to the square. They got about five metres in and decided to turn back. This is how they emerged.
Cassie and I decided to flatten ourselves against the wall, I pulled out a poncho to protect the camera, and there we stayed as the crowd got more and more excited. This was my first droplet!
At midday, the cannon/rocket thingie sounded, and the crowd went wild, waving their red neckties in the air.
See it in action here.
The Sangria throwing and water dumping continued... with giant beach balls added.
Once the crowd thinned out a bit, we made our way into the square.
And watched in fascination as the clean-up crew (whose job I both admire and do not want) and sunglass sellers swooped in with equal speed.
We decided to make our way back to the other square (the one I'm calling the main square), and noted that the tomato sauce and egg throwing fights had escalated to shaving cream fights.
Cassie took cover and held her Sangria tight.
We all decided to join her, and enjoyed the people watching for a little while...
Tom, with a little backpack under his poncho, did his drunken hunchback imitation...
And then made friends with a red-bereted drummer... as you do.
We then decided to wander around the little city to see what else there was to be seen...
Cassie made a friend...
I of course admired the buildings...
Tom only briefly considered getting water from this murky-looking fountain...
And we watched in wonder as men politely lined up for one of the most public public toilets I've ever seen. This was the last of the polite toilet behaviour we witnessed. Shall I just say that there were definitely not enough public toilets available, and unfortunately not enough trees or grass to make up for the difference. It was not pretty (or nice-smelling).
Fortunately this cute little guy found himself a tree.
Annnyway... moving on!
As it turned out, the day we were at Pamplona was the day that the third State of Origin (see here if you don't know what that is) game played in Australia. We couldn't find it playing on any televisions we passed by (understandable, since people were much more interested in Sangria fights), but Cassie's dad managed to text her the news...which was... that Queensland won!
And now you need to know a terrible truth. Tom is not a Queenslander. I most definitely am, but Tom has blue blood, and as such, was very disappointed with the proof that, once again, NSW is simply inferior.
This was the moment he found out.
P.S. Does anyone else think it's great that he's standing under a tree with maroon leaves (QLD's colour), wearing a shirt that is now stained a colour very close to maroon? Ahhh sweet victory.
We then moved on in search of lunch, hoping it would console poor Tom, and enjoyed the show from cheery locals...
And slightly less cheery tourists...
Dave and Tom scoped out the race track for tomorrow...
And had a practice run. In the wrong direction.
This guy started practicing early.
And these guys reserved their viewing positions very early.
Cassie made yet another friend...
Tom and Dave found their perfect hiding-from-the-bulls position...
And we kept wandering through the streets to find the start-point of the bull running the following day. If only the bulls were as well behaved as this little guy!
As we approached the start gate, we got to watch these two practicing their moves for tomorrow as well.
Dave and Tom thought they had better practice as well.
On another subject, as we made our way back towards the main square, we encountered this street performer. It was pretty hilarious. She (the bride) was sitting still waiting for people to admire her skill at sitting still and pay her money, when this homeless guy wandered up and decided to sit directly opposite her and join the game. Perfect career move in retrospect, since they attracted so much more attention as a result!
We encountered a few more well-dressed street performers...
As the day wore on and things got messier and messier (I had a guy dump a cup of Sangria on my head - not happy Jan), we decided that we had to come to terms with the fact that we were getting old, and decided to head for the bus station to go back to our hotel.
This guy couldn't wait that long.
And so began our time at the San Fermin festival! Time for the boys to rest up in preparation for their big bull running day. Eek!
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