Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Someone steps on my right heel. My shoe starts to come off. I grasp at it with my toes
without diverting my attention and hobble forward in the crowd, keeping my weight right so
noonecanpushmeintothepathofthebulls,myhandsonthepersoninfrontofme.Ihobble,
shoe dangling, and watch the bulls pass—just don't gore me, I can handle the rest—I reach
down and try to fix the shoe with my right hand, balance with my left—just fucking do it! I
do it without falling.
I don't know if I will make it into the stadium at this pace. There is one more set of bulls
behindus—Idon'tknowhowmany—andIhavenoideahowfarI'vegone.Somepeopleare
yelling like all the danger has passed, but I think there are more. People will try to close the
stadium gate when the third group is through. I have to make a move.
I look over my inside shoulder and go.
I fucking go and see the long stretch of fence ahead of me on the right that tells me we are
close. I fucking go GO GO. I can see it, I can see the stadium. I look over my shoulder and
start turning left with the road. I'm on the outside, but I know I'm okay because the crowd
is behind me. Then the volume rises and the middle of the road clears. I go right naturally, I
think I'm okay. I'm past the turn and look over my left—it comes alone.
If you see one alone, escape.
I jump smack into the fence like Griffey and grab but don't go over. I'm ready to climb in
case it comes at me in this crowd—so sparse compared to before—
I'm not going over.
If you see one alone, escape.
I'm going into that fucking stadium.
If you see one alone, escape.
I don't go over, I cringe, and it goes by.
It passes me and runs toward the stadium door and I don't know if I should follow it but
I do, I fucking sprint, I'm making it into that stadium, that stadium is fucking mine. I pump
my arms and my legs, I pass people and pass people, I am making it into that stadium—that
fucking stadium is mine. I see one of the huge red doors start to close and I sprint toward it.
The gap of light inside is closing, but the closer I get, the higher up in the stands I can see oh
mygodaseaofwhitenoise.Iseepeopleonthesidesasthebullpassesthroughandisguided
out the other end. There is a jam of people at the closing door and I run right up to them. I
keep pushing forward and squeeze through the door and fucking sprint into the tunnel. I gain
speed and the stadium reveals itself—full of screaming fans—everyone in white with their
red neckerchiefs. I feel the dirt below my feet so soft and forgiving and I am displacing it
all and I am in the Plaza de Toros, the motherfucking Plaza de Toros de Pamplona. I start
yelling as I run—I fucking scream and let it out. I let it all out and it flows out of me like a
release of pressure that shouldn't build in a person. I scream and in the very middle of the
circle—I'm in a fucking bullfighting ring—I'm in the Plaza de Toros de Pamplona on July
