Another crazy week to add to my Overseas Experience. Running away from Bulls, sangria filled water pistols, and partying up with Spain after they won their worldcup semi finals game against Germany.

I heard from my friend Jye that the Pamplona bull runs were one of the most amazing things he had done during his travels… he wasn’t lying. The bulls weren’t hugely scary, for the most part you only experience 3 secs as they race past… but its the sheer panic and fear on everyones face that really gets the adrenaline going.

The brave/moronic woke up on Wednesday morning to participate in the first bull runs of the San Fermin festival. In the dark we were ushered into coach loads of ‘Bovine’ cannon fodder and sent on an hour long mission to Pamplona. Once in Pamplona we ducked under a few barriers, and were at the beginning of the town hall. We were waiting for the rockets to fire at 8pm to signal the starting of the first bull runs. I stuck closely to the PP travel guys who had done it last year,  as I did not want to be part of the group that got culled on the first morning.

We spent a good half hour chilling out around the first corner after the town hall (about 200m down) – when the Spanish police came round for the first culling. Luckily we weren’t part of this, but we were part of the ‘squashing’… It would seam after having culled half the runners (anyone after the first corner) – they proceeded to pack everyone in the first part of the course… Possibly not my favourite part of the run, as in my anticipation for the run, I had forgotten to go to the bathroom… any toilet stops would be at least two hours away. argh…

Another 30 minutes past – playing human sardine cans wasn’t overly fun, especially when you’re all hungover form the night before. It was 7:40 when they let the crowds free again, and we all started to trickle back on to the course. I heard the best place to start was just after dead mans corner and on the right. As it was at this point you could see a 3 tonne monster slide out on a pre-wet floor and into a barrier (god bless the Spanish). It was about 7:50 when the crowd started running for no reason. This was when things started to get really scary. The rockets hadn’t actually been fired, someon just freaked out and the shit hit the fan… Naturally I thought Fuck it and started to run as well… but then I realised after about 20m I cam for the running of the bulls and not the tourist… so I stopped and chilled by a wall… Still F*cken crazy though to have that many people skitz out!

More chilling ensued, and then, the rockets fired and the real bull runs started. We were told that the crowd would start with a gentle jog…but if I’m honest it was more like a retarded 100m sprint. Within the first few steps some muppet had fallen in front of me… being a courteous young man, I made sure to put both hands on his shoulders while I vaulted over him…within another few steps the crowd as stopped, but when you’re franticly running theres no stopping, theres only ‘piling’. Which I proceeded to do over a group of guys…probably not smart, but it increased the adrenaline levels as I scrambled out of the pile.. and you can never have too much adrenaline…

(the bulls ran past) – nothing hugely eventful… tried to keep up, but when you have people scrambling in front… theres not much you can do…

I got into the arena with Leon, when they started to let out the steers. That was hillarious as people started getting bucked and nailed… The adrenaline levels started to rise again – Its amazing how quickly a crowd will move when you put a bucking steer in the mix – Organised Chaos…. It was pretty scary at this point, as you couldn’t really see where the steers were coming from, you could only see a mass of panicked people running towards you. I spent about 10 minutes running away from steers, before I decided it would be smarter to stick to the sides and watch…

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