Our trip to Spain was funslashcrazy. I'll start out with a few over all highlights, then a review of the running of the bulls, followed by a reading comprehension quiz.
The beach was lovely. It was a fashionable nude beach in San Sebastian, near the border of France. You can stop squinting at the background trying to find nudies; there aren't any in this shot. Please. It was a great opportunity for Simon and I to observe and discuss the Spanish body type. We concluded that there is one overriding feature plaguing the nation—an enormous top heavy torso, no butt, and scrawny, meaty legs. Especially in the oldies. It was all a rather beautiful site for a sheltered American as myself. We're all humans, we all have human bodies-and that's okay! Life lesson number one.
Spaniards think cereal tastes better with lots of chocolate in it. This was one of the "healthier" options. We ate these sitting on a park bench in the shade.
The tapas were a lot of fun to try. San Sebastian is full of hideous retail stores, candy shops, and bars. Each night the people bar hop having a drink and a snack at one bar and moving on to the next. My favorite were the Spanish Tortillas.
Also, there are these pig legs hanging from the ceiling of every building. Everyone just carries on acting as if they're not even there.
Hideous retail store. One of thousands.
Speaking of thousands, this woman's smile is worth a thousand words, according to this ad. This poster was shocking to us each time we saw it. Can you believe this woman was chosen and approved to be the cover girl of their company? Again, this would never happen in America. This was much more unsettling than any oldie we saw at the beach. But I guess having normal sized gums isn't all that matters in this life.Life lesson number two.
Simon thinks they look like those fake teeth you wear on Halloween and insisted that I take a picture. But if this smile is worth a thousand words, and a picture is worth a thousand words, then how many words is it worth now?
Some green rocks we found.And finally... Pamplona. Oh where to begin.... sunrise I suppose.
We woke up at 4 AM and drove from Bilbao to Pamplona to try to get a good spot before the run, hoping for harmless, goreless fun. We arrived to find that there were hundreds of drunkards sleeping in the fields and in their cars. And it was cold- I really don't know how your body can handle that kind of physical stress. And I would think that you would want to have a good meal, a restful night, and have your wits about you before you were going to go risk your life running around with bulls. But these weren't the sharpest of humans either.I have never experienced anything quite like this. Obviously. The entire town was drenched in alcohol and urine. And trash. They have a fiesta that lasts 24 hours each day for the entire week. All the city shops had closed down for the week; a safe move on their part.
It was mayhem.
I had always wondered how the ancient Romans could actually enjoy the "games" they would watch in the Colosseum. They were so savage and violent and I thought only disturbed people could handle watching that. Whenever I saw kids in high school beating each other up, it made me sick to my stomach. But there was something about watching these crazy men volunteer themselves to the challenge that was very fun to watch. Whenever a bull would crack a man's ribs, the entire stadium would cheer and laugh. And I began to wonder if I was as disturbed as the Romans. But then I got distracted by this view and forgot all about this internal struggle.
This guy's messed up. Life lesson number three.
Most of the people who got hurt were asking for it, swatting the bulls or pulling their tails, somehow feeling macho.
A total of 45 people reported injuries. Although I'm sure there were at least 50 more who were so disoriented that they wandered away and passed out under a tree for a day or two. 
El fin.
