Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
KEVIN CHROUST
The Bull Passes Through
FROM The Morning News
D AN IS IN , Brian is out, and I suppose I am 51 percent in and 49 percent out. I am going with
Danintoawalled-off,maybe25-foot-widestreet.Peopleaboveus,inpositionsofsafety,gaze
down with looks of concern.
“Give me your stuff,” Brian says, and Dan and I empty our pockets and hand him our
sunglasses.
I keep my credit card, my driver's license, 50 euros cash, and my insurance card in the
buttoned back pocket of my white linen pants. We shake hands and he pats us on the back.
We don't try to convince him to reconsider because this is not the kind of thing you can fault
someone forskipping. Andifweconvince him todoit andhegets hurt,wehave topayadoc-
tor to fix him and a therapist to fix us.
“See you outside the stadium at the ticket window,” I say, and turn and walk into one of the
more famously dangerous places to be on July 7 every year.
The faces of people down here with us tell a story much more pertinent to my situation.
Some look fast, well prepared, dressed almost exclusively in white with red accessor-
ies—neckerchiefs and shawls in San Fermín tradition. Some look drunk, like they haven't
beentobedsincethis204-hourpartystarted19hoursago;manyofthemwillbethrownoutof
the route by the policía before 8 A.M . We fall somewhere between. We are not drunk, but our
white clothes are soaked in red sangria from the opening ceremonies. We went to bed early,
but did not sleep well and do not feel well. If we were still 22 we'd be drunk.
Dan is very fast. I think I am probably faster than most of the people down here. But after
speaking to people in this town for the past 36 hours, I've gathered speed doesn't much mat-
ter. This is not a race. No one is PR-ing today. No one is qualifying for Boston. Speed doesn't
much matter because something like a dozen bulls are being released at the sound of a rocket,
and they are going to catch whomever they want.
WewalkedthecoursethenightwearrivedinPamplona.WearenowonDay12ofa13-day,
mostlysleeplesstriptoItalyandSpain.Itis7:15 A.M .onSaturday,July7—thefirstdayofthe
Running of the Bulls. Because it is the first day and it falls on a weekend this year, the route
is crowded with spectators and runners. We fly home to Chicago tomorrow from Madrid, as-
suming there are no overnight hospital stays.
In 45 minutes, those bulls, weighing something like a thousand pounds each, are going to
come charging after me and every other person on this cobblestone road who feel the need to
put their life in arbitrary danger. Until then it is going to be a long wait, and I imagine an even
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