nigel davenport | net

San Fermin opening day

The bus was due to leave for Pamplona around 9am.  After a relatively quiet night on the sangria I woke up feeling a whole lot better than the day before (my first night in Zarautz - unforgettable…). After a “continental” breakfast (consisting of some funny tasting cornflakes with UHT milk and a piece of fruit) the bus was on its way. A few beers later (which were actually refreshingly cold) the bus arrived at Pamplona. The PP tour guide gave everyone some maps and some vague instructions about where to go and what to see. Me and Aazza decided to find our own way around the city - it’s never any fun following some guy around telling you what to do.

First thing we did was walk through all the stalls selling traditional festival garments (white t-shirts and white pants). 6 euro would get you this get-up. Finding this all very boring we wandered into the centre of town, trying not to look like tourists (which was pretty hard). Lots of people from our tour company, PP, were around as well as several other similar companies (Top Deck, Backpackers). Everywhere seemed pretty busy - however this was nothing compared to the hubbub later on.

We strolled around the streets of Pamplona for an hour or so, taking in the Spanish atmosphere. Every Spanish street is very similar - one could get lost if one was particularly drunk - which I was not… yet. There was quite a big police present already - apparently the police at the festival weren’t actually the local police, they get called in especially for the festival (which means they aren’t so forgiving to all the punters). We managed to check out the infamous Musel bar statue before the chaotic events that took place later in the day. It didn’t seem all that high, but I would never consider jumping off it.

Wandering into the central plaza things already were kicking off, lots of Spanish were already drunk. Feeling pretty hungry me and Aazza both sat down for some tapas. As I was finishing off the last of it I noticed this strange little man at my feet. At a second glance I noticed he was kneeling and he had decided to shine my shoes. I told him to piss off but unfortunately I was talking gibberish because all he could say was “buena?” (which means good). It was actually a decent job and before I could say anything he had shined the other shoe. Upon finishing his English suddenly became quite legible and he was asking for 20 euro. I didn’t think a shoe shine was worth that much so I shoved 10 euro in his face. He wanted more and I wasn’t willing to give him more - a stand off was in progress. After about a minute I was over arguing with him – he had decided to speak Spanish again. I threw some coins at him and got up to leave. He said something which I didn’t understand, and didn’t really care to. I watched from a distance as he proceeded down the street to find some other tourist to take advantage of.

As it was getting close to midday - kick off of the festivities - we gathered some bottles of sangria and champagne. What would have been a quick walk to Plaza Constitorial (the town hall square) took a lot longer - everyone was trying to pack into the plaza. We managed to get in, but as every minute passed more and more people crowded in to the already limited space. At one point some Spanish kids were hanging around and started letting off fire crackers. One off the fizzers snaked along the ground and exploded at my legs. A wave of heat struck my leg, singeing a patch of hair off my leg. A loud noise caught my ears but my body shielded my ears from the worst of it. Aazza was standing right next to me and got it worse. The firecracker took a small chunk out of his shin and his ears rang for a few minutes. All very hilarious.

The festivities were now really getting started. Despite all the alcohol being consumed a lot more was being thrown around. It is quite traditional for this sort of carry on - and I was getting into it as well. On the balconies of the houses surrounding the plaza people were throwing all sorts of backing goods down into the crowd - flour, eggs, cocoa powder and mustard powder were the ingredients of choice. A lot of songs were also being sung by the Spanish – mostly about San Fermin and the bulls. Some entertaining dances also accompanied the songs. To go with the sunny party atmosphere, some beach balls were also being padded around the thronging crowd.

About 15 minutes before the skyrockets were due to go off to commence the festival celebrations, the amount of people in the plaza had reached almost crushing proportions. There was no room to move anywhere - think of the most crowded situation you’ve been in and double that. It got so bad that I couldn’t even take a drink from the sangria bottle that was in my hand. At one stage I thought I was going to faint so I decided to leave the fainting to the Spanish. It was a mission trying to get out – and then the skyrockets went off. It was then easy to ride the crowd through the streets towards the town centre. On the way refreshing water was being dropped from the balconies (as well mustard powder).

After a while of soaking all this atmosphere in, it was time to go back to the Musel bar and witness people jumping off the statue. Already packed with those with a death wish and those wishing to see these people, I managed to find a spot near the action. Only a few brave souls were attempting the jump but as the minutes progressed, the amount of punters clambering up the statue increased. As this was happening, plastic bottles, cans and other sundries were being thrown at the jumpers. At one point some crazy Spanish guy jumped off backwards into the waiting arms below. Several girls also made it up and chants of “off, off, off” were yelled until the girls revealed their breasts to the crowd. Apparently girls aren’t allowed to jump unless they have abided by this informal rule. Good rule I reckon.

The novelty wore off after a while so Aazza and I decided to head back the bus area. I was slightly drunk but felt very sober compared to all those around me. On the way back we both bought he traditional garb for tomorrow’s encierro. I managed to get quite drunk sitting in the sun waiting for the bus. Some kids kept us entertained by playing chicken with each other’s firecrackers. I was very impressed by the whole town joining in the party - that’s my kind of town. I will definitely go back next year for it - a bit wiser but definitely ready to go larger.