10am, July 6. Plaza Del Castillo, Pamplona. The sight before me is like nothing I’ve seen before. The main square of the Old Town looks like a bomb has hit. I’m at ground zero. Discarded wine bottles lie strewn everywhere, as does the occasional intoxicated reveller, and the air is thick with nervous chatter. A sticky batter of flour, eggs, food dye, tomato sauce and mustard coats almost every uncovered surface – the aftermath of one hell of a food fight.
The casualties of said fight are high – white faces, matted hair, stained shirts, eyes sparkling and grins from ear to ear. Assuming that a ceasefire is in force, I proceed across the square, gradually picking up speed as the growing crowd at the opposite end nears closer. As I navigate the celebratory carnage in my path, I start to worry about what I’ve missed. About a second later, a yolk-filled missile explodes at the back of my head and as the slimy innards slide down my neck, I realise I’ve nothing to worry about.
This is the Fiesta de San Fermín, one of the greatest parties on Earth, and it hasn’t even begun yet.
The opening ceremony
The fiesta officially kicks off at noon on July 6 when the Mayor of Pamplona fires the ‘Chupinazo’ (a rocket) from the balcony of Town Hall in Plaza Consistorial (also known as Plaza del Ayuntamiento). Get there early if you want to be in the thick of the celebrations, because revellers start filling the small plaza from about 9am.
A word to the wise – if being pushed about, trodden on and getting wet and sticky is not your thing, steer clear of this particular part of the celebration. By midday, the plaza and surrounding streets are a singing, dancing, drinking sea of red and white, awash with bubbly, cava (Spanish sparkling wine) and sangria, and plastered with more eggs and flour.
As the minute hand closes in on the 12, a rousing chant of Viva San Fermín” and “Gora San Fermín” (‘Long Live San Fermin’ in Spanish and Basque) builds, and the red bandanas are energetically waved skywards. After the Chupinazo is fired, bandanas are tied around the neck and the serious partying begins.
The street parties
For the eight-and-a-half days of the fiesta, Pamplona pretty much parties around the clock. The peñas (bullfight clubs), whose celebrations spill onto the streets city-wide, are the best place to party with locals and immerse yourself in the intoxicating spirit that is the San Fermín festival. In the unlikely event that you get bored with the drinking and merriment on the streets, there are flute, jazz, folk and rock concerts, open-air dances, traditional jota dances, rural sports and street theatre to keep the good times rolling.
The Bull Run
Since Ernest Hemingway introduced the world to the fiesta’s signature Running of the Bulls in his first bestseller, The Sun Also Rises in 1926, the event has taken on an international reputation that resonates well beyond its small place in the greater celebration. What once served as a practical means of moving the bulls from the corrals at one end of the town to the bullring (Plaza del Toros) and, to a lesser degree, a test of bravado for a few Spaniards is now a platform for thousands of foreigners to face several tons of sinewed muscle in a bid to show off their machismo.
The run, or encierro, takes place at 8am daily from July 7 to 14. The 825m route encompasses four streets, a steep slope and three tight corners. The run usually takes no more than three and a half minutes. Six bulls – which will be used in that night’s bullfight – run along with two herds of tame bulls, which are meant to keep the meaner bulls on track and reduce the likelihood of them getting horny with runners.
A few minutes before the race, the runners gather beneath a small statue of Saint Fermín near the starting line in Santo Domingo Street. At 7.55am, 7.57am and 7.59am, they sing a short song, which translates as: “We ask for San Fermín, who is our patron, to guide us through the Bull Run, and give us his blessing.”
At exactly eight o’clock, a rocket is fired to announce the opening of the gates – this normally triggers a surge of anxious runners uphill – and a second rocket signifies that all the bulls have left the corral. Once the bulls have reached the bullring, a third rocket is fired, and the fourth rocket means they are safely in their pens.
The idea is to run from the starting line all the way to the bullring, but few keep up the pace once a frenzied moment when the bulls overtake is over. Once inside the ring, the runners wait while the bulls are penned, then a younger bull with its horns corked is released to chase the daredevils who haven’t had quite enough. Those content to watch have two options: Either get there very early (or stay up really late) and stake a spot along the route, or get tickets to the Plaza de Toros, where you can see the runners as they pour in and scatter in anticipation of the bulls.
There’s no denying that the run is dangerous, as the 15 fatalities and more than 200 horn injuries since 1910 attest. The most recent death was in 2003 when a 63-year-old Spaniard – who had run every year since he was 14 – was charged by a bull and died two months later from the severe head injuries he sustained.
The bullfights
Despite mounting opposition to the cruelty of the blood sport, bullfighting maintains a popular fixture in the festivities. Be warned, though, that it is by no means a pleasant spectator sport. Many a curious tourist has left midway, sickened by the sight of a beast teased, tortured and slowly killed for entertainment. Nevertheless, hundreds of locals converge on the Plaza De Toros for the fights and you can get tickets directly from the Plaza De Toros. Once the bulls have met their grisly fate, an altogether more festive practice occurs when the peñas and their brass bands leave the bullring to fill the city streets with music.
The parades
Among the endless parties, the streets of Pamplona come alive with a colourful array of parades. One of the most important, the Procession of San Fermín, takes place on July 7 at 10am. An effigy is carried through the Old Town to San Fermín’s Chapel for mass amid the applause and cheer of thousands of locals.
The Masquerade of the Giants is another highlight, particularly for the children. A band of large-headed carnival figures – the giants, the Kilikis and the Cabezudos – dance through the streets armed with foam batons, both delighting and scaring the young onlookers. Other daily parades to keep an eye out for are the Parade of Bands, the Parade of Bullring Horsemen and the Fireworks Bull.
The Struendo
You won’t find this noisy drum festival in the programme, but it’s a traditional act that strikes up near the City Hall. The particular night changes from year to year, but it always happens at midnight. To take part, all you need is to bang a drum continuously until you arrive at the Small Well of San Cernin, where Saint Fermín was baptised.
The closing ceremony
The last official act of the festival, the Pobre de mí, is merely a reminder that it’s only 357 days until it all kicks off again. The people of Pamplona, many in tears, go to the Plaza Consistorial on July 14 at midnight with candles to farewell the party and start the countdown to the next San Fermín. From the balcony, the Mayor officially closes the festival and invites everyone to come back next year. Although the festival has been officially put to bed the celebrations carry on into the following morning. They are Spanish, after all.”
