Uncomforta-bull??
After an early start and a 2 hour bus journey, we arrived in Dénia around 10h30, knowing our bus back was at 22h00. Nearly 12 hours in a small Spanish town with, quite frankly, not a lot to do. After stumbling upon the tourist info and discovering that the festivities didn't kick off until the evening, we wondered if we'd made a mistake. After a quick walk along the seafront, like the naive tourists we were headed for the nearest café and proceeded to spend the next hour and a half chilling outside with fanta lemon and the strongest homemade sangria I've ever had the pleasure to taste. How many hours left??
Biding our time...
Luck was not on our side- in Alicante the main attractions in the town are the beach and the castle, and the same goes for Dénia. After walking uphill in 32 degree heat we reached the castle only to find out it had closed a mere 10 minutes before. Bof, alors. Healed the wounds by going for food...
Nevertheless time soon started to pass on, had a nice few hours on the beach, swimming in turquoise sea and drinking the favourite Tinto de Verano (like sangria but with Fanta lemon) at the beach chiringuito (bar). Before we knew it, it was time for Bous a la Mar.
Now I should probably explain what Bous a la Mar is, given that 'Bulls to the Sea' is a bit of a vague title. Bous a la Mar is Dénia's week long annual festival in honour of the Santisima Sangre (Holy Blood) which commemorates a monk who allegedly saved the town from the plague in 1633 by getting townsfolk to redistribute their bread (hola Communism). Highlight of the year is 'watching bulls run down the main street Marqués de Campo, only to be chased into the Mediterranean sea by those daring enough to enter a makeshift bull ring with them'. The makeshift bullring is open on one side, so people can try to tempt the bulls to jump into the sea. Enough said really.
Seeing is really believing. At 7pm prompt, 5 bulls were let loose in the town centre, running through the packed-out streets down to the port and into the makeshift bullring (Plaza de Toros). Much like Pamplona's now tourist-driven San Fermín festival (otherwise known as the Running of the Bulls) people can choose to 'run' through the streets with the bulls, which can sometimes lead to serious injury, etc. Naturally the girls chose to spectate while the guys stupidly/bravely ran with the bulls. Bulls can run BLOODY fast. After waiting half an hour or so for the bulls to run past us they had disappeared in a flash. We headed to the bullring. Our friends were still alive...
Waiting for the bulls to run past us.
After piling into the Plaza de Toros we waited for the first bull to emerge. Our friends decided to participate in the bullring (slightly worrying). 99% of people in the bullring were male, 50% were probably drunk, 100% fascinated. After the first bull steamed around the Plaza, huffing, puffing and charging anything that moved, it was clear that this was going to be a long evening. I'd originally presumed watching the bulls jump into the sea would be a 20 minute affair, but no. Bulls are clever, we should give them more credit.
Anxious moment when the second bull that came out 'to play' (and also the most fierce) jumped onto what we thought was a safety platform where our friends were. One guy was covered in blood after trying to outsmart the 3rd or 4th bull that came out and a few others were injured. It was both fascinating and uncomfortable to watch. And yes, by the end of the 2 hours, all 5 bulls had jumped into the sea, much to the delight of the spectators.
I still can't quite make up my mind about the festival. It's a tradition, definitely more Spanish than Pamplona with its hordes of American tourists desperate to be the hero for 15 minutes. It confirmed what I knew all along- that the Spanish are crazy! This kind of event would never happen in Britain- animal rights groups would kick up a huge fuss and it would be a nightmare for health and safety. Bous a la Mar is cruel- I felt sorry for the bulls and sometimes it was difficult to watch- don't know if I could go to a corrida (bullfight). At least the bulls didn't die in Dénia, I don't know who fished them out of the sea but someone did...
Tradition. Part of living abroad is experiencing local and national traditions, customs and holidays. Yes, sometimes they conflict with your beliefs, but surely that's partly why they're so interesting.
Another Year Abroad anecdote.
Oh and our friends were fine :)
No comments:
Post a Comment