Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
what I witnessed Thursday night, I think matadors are bedazzled cowards. They stack the
deck like a Vegas house stacks slot odds. It is a spectacle of disingenuous sacrifice driven by
tradition andprofit.Thebullishalf-dead, tired,maimed, andthereagainst itswill. Themata-
dor is armed, which I suppose is understandable when facing a bull, but there's also a group
of other matadors ready to jump in and divert the bull from a deadly attack.
But on this street right now, those advantages have flipped. We have numbers, but too
many numbers—numbers that will force us into uncomfortable places we don't want to be
where bulls are likely to find us. The locals told us this yesterday. One pretty Spanish girl
and her grandmother spent an hour trying to talk us out of it. They, along with others back
in Madrid, succeeded with Brian. The girl, Cindy, said at least 50 times in her Spanish ac-
cent,
Don't do eet
, and
Do not raan
a hundred. When I refused to give in, her grandmother,
who didn't speak a word of English and hated Dan, just shook her head, grabbed my sticky,
sangria-soakedcheekswithherwrinkledhands,andkissedmeonthelipsbeforesheleft.Be-
fore the trip, I had only gone up in age 3 years. Now I have gone up 50.
“If you could do it again, would you do anything differently?” Dan asks.
“Today or in life or on this trip?”
“Any.”
I think for a quick moment about plenty of things that apply in my life and give a bland
reply. “Nothing major. You?”
“I never would have gotten a dog with the ex,” Dan says. “I loved that dog, but after our
relationship ended, it caused us so many unnecessary problems. Don't get a dog before you
get a ring.”
I think about my ex as well and the things I would do differently now that might have put
us on a different path, a path that wouldn't have me on a street this morning with bulls.
More people have gathered in from the bottom of the street, more people leave our area
and walk farther up the road. And then a man passes out standing, angling forward without
his knees buckling, and lands square on the side of his face on the street. The thud sounds
like someone threw a 150-pound piece of clay from five stories up. People rush to him and
call for a doctor. They turn him over. His face is covered in blood and he is unconscious. A
doctor arrives and tries to wake him. Paramedics follow with a stretcher. We watch as they
take him away. He will not be running with the bulls, but he will be among the injured.
We talk about our plan of action one last time. We remind each other to stay to the inside
on the turns. We remind each other that the most important thing is to keep our center of
gravity so we stay on our feet.
“If you lose a shoe, keep going,” Dan says.
“Yeah, glass in your foot is better than being trampled—by people or bulls.”
“If you fall, don't try to get up. Just cover your head and roll to the side.”
“And if you see a bull on its own, try to get out.”
