Haven’t written for a while, I knew I wouldn’t be able to retain a regular interest! Just don’t have it in me….
I have just realised that I have not mentioned that since I have been here Spain have become champions of European football (which prompted a massive and very loud street party, even in my quiet barrio) and Rafa won Wimbledon, which is something I am personally very pleased about as he is my favourite tennis player on the circuit at the moment. I seem to have brought the country luck and am wondering whether some sort of commission deal can be worked out with the Spanish government so that I promise to stay in the country during major sporting tournaments in the future…
So, sport out of the way, well, milestones in Spanish sport anyway. I obviously still enjoy my motorsport, cricket and rugby…first sport is more than covered here, I get to watch every motor GP on terrestrial which is a step up from the UK. I also get to watch every F1 race, the coverage is very one sided and anti Hamilton but that just makes me scoff my British scoff and brand Alonso a massive loser while pointing out that (in the last race) he came second from last while his team-mate came second, you do the maths people. LOSER. Anyway, yay Hamilton and yay yay yay Rossi!
So, that leaves me mourning the lack of my other two sports…rugby and cricket. I can deal without rugby at the moment as it is not quite the season but it will start to bite during the 6 Nations which has been an annual ritual of mine since it was the 5 Nations so, what to do? And cricket? Don’t get me started on cricket, most people here have not even heard of it and, well, it is hard enough to explain in English, let alone Spanish… ‘silly mid off’, ‘leg side’ or ‘LBW’ … I mean, they just don’t translate really. Hmmm. So, I am stuck for my favourite sports, and short of shelling out a small fortune on satellite I cannot see how the situation can be rectified. It is so ironic that if I was living on one of the costas I would get the good old BeeB without any trouble. Boo and, may I add, hiss.
I think that is enough on my sports rant for now.
Oh yes, I also miss curry.
24 July 2008
09 July 2008
San Fermín, bulls and bullshit regulations
Well, I have been very lax in noting down any of my thoughts of late, possibly because I have not had any worth noting recently. Just the general language barrier and getting to grips with things, although now I think of it there are some things I have wondered about…
This week has been San Fermín week, the Spanish are mad for this, the whole festival is televised and commentated on and has a series of complicated customs and rituals associated with it. Let me tell you how some of it fits together…as far as I can work it out anyway!
…it began on Sunday with, from what I gather, was one massive roaring street party that takes over the whole of the city of Pamplona. The party does not however begin until midday when the town council set of a series of fireworks to signal the party to commence. This is strictly adhered to and the television network spent the whole morning covering the preparations for the fiesta, the way that people customarily eat certain things at certain times to maximise the partying. The party-goers themselves also have a sort of ‘uniform’, most dress completely in white with a red pañuelo or neckerchief or red fabric round their wrists. Once the party kicks off officially, people start throwing around the preferred beverage CALIMOTXO, or coke and red wine – not just any red wine, really cheap red wine, always in a carton. The red wine covers everyone so all the white turns pink and everyone looks a bit sticky. But then everyone also looks to be having a bloody great time!
The party itself looks rather terrifying to me, just a mass of people gathered in (a lovely looking) main square. When I say mass, I mean mass, the square is crammed with people wall to wall. People also throw themselves from ornate lamp-posts to crowd surf off into the distance, and I am talking throwing themselves from at least two metres; thank goodness there are some many people packed in that no-one can move out of the way. I think it is the press of people that disturbs me most, I am not really one for crowds anyway but I think the infamous ‘British reserve’ kicks in even more and I start wondering where my ‘personal space’ has got to. And I’m only watching on tele!
The party is the start of San Fermín, at some point a figure of San Fermín is paraded around Pamplona, formally, properly and with a lot of religious respect. San Fermín is the patron saint of Navarra and if the Spanish are anything they are seriously proud of their regional heritage and guard it ferociously.
The festival continues, only now it is not a party, now San Fermín is all about the bulls. Yes, the famous running with the bulls in Pamplona (el encierro), this is w
hen it happens and this is what it is all about. Every morning at 8am from 7-14 July the towns people, and of course tourists from all over Spain and the world, run with the bulls from the edge of town into the Plaza de Toros on the other side of town; ready for the bullfights in the afternoon. This was traditionally how they moved the bulls to the Plaza and has been going on for a very long time. Pretty much everyday someone gets mangled and they tell me that every year someone dies.
Can you imagine that in the UK? (Isle of Man TT races aside) Everyone in the street, drinking, having fun, old and young, all together at a party? Then the next day people haring round the streets being chased by bulls, with large pointy horns, bulls that weigh a good 500 kilos? No, neither can I. Health & Safety anyone? *yawn*
This week has been San Fermín week, the Spanish are mad for this, the whole festival is televised and commentated on and has a series of complicated customs and rituals associated with it. Let me tell you how some of it fits together…as far as I can work it out anyway!
…it began on Sunday with, from what I gather, was one massive roaring street party that takes over the whole of the city of Pamplona. The party does not however begin until midday when the town council set of a series of fireworks to signal the party to commence. This is strictly adhered to and the television network spent the whole morning covering the preparations for the fiesta, the way that people customarily eat certain things at certain times to maximise the partying. The party-goers themselves also have a sort of ‘uniform’, most dress completely in white with a red pañuelo or neckerchief or red fabric round their wrists. Once the party kicks off officially, people start throwing around the preferred beverage CALIMOTXO, or coke and red wine – not just any red wine, really cheap red wine, always in a carton. The red wine covers everyone so all the white turns pink and everyone looks a bit sticky. But then everyone also looks to be having a bloody great time!
The party itself looks rather terrifying to me, just a mass of people gathered in (a lovely looking) main square. When I say mass, I mean mass, the square is crammed with people wall to wall. People also throw themselves from ornate lamp-posts to crowd surf off into the distance, and I am talking throwing themselves from at least two metres; thank goodness there are some many people packed in that no-one can move out of the way. I think it is the press of people that disturbs me most, I am not really one for crowds anyway but I think the infamous ‘British reserve’ kicks in even more and I start wondering where my ‘personal space’ has got to. And I’m only watching on tele!
The party is the start of San Fermín, at some point a figure of San Fermín is paraded around Pamplona, formally, properly and with a lot of religious respect. San Fermín is the patron saint of Navarra and if the Spanish are anything they are seriously proud of their regional heritage and guard it ferociously.
The festival continues, only now it is not a party, now San Fermín is all about the bulls. Yes, the famous running with the bulls in Pamplona (el encierro), this is w
hen it happens and this is what it is all about. Every morning at 8am from 7-14 July the towns people, and of course tourists from all over Spain and the world, run with the bulls from the edge of town into the Plaza de Toros on the other side of town; ready for the bullfights in the afternoon. This was traditionally how they moved the bulls to the Plaza and has been going on for a very long time. Pretty much everyday someone gets mangled and they tell me that every year someone dies.Can you imagine that in the UK? (Isle of Man TT races aside) Everyone in the street, drinking, having fun, old and young, all together at a party? Then the next day people haring round the streets being chased by bulls, with large pointy horns, bulls that weigh a good 500 kilos? No, neither can I. Health & Safety anyone? *yawn*
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