Welcome : The True Adventures of Trina Stout

The festival of San Fermin (Running of the Bulls) in Pamplona was awesome. As soon as we arrived, we took a bus into the city center, riding by a number of people passed out on the grass/medians/parks, a condition we would find ourselves in not 24 hours later. We walked to the bull ring to see about bullfights the next day. I hadn´t seen a bullfight yet, and I figured I had to see one before leaving Spain. Nearing the ring, we were approached by an especialista en reventas, who, after some bargaining, sold us tickets for 20 euros each for that night´s show, which started in three minutes. Not a bad start to the festival.

The audience was packed with people uniformly dressed in the white-with-red-sashes outfit of San Fermin. Also, they were all thoroughly wasted. A group up and to the right of us was sloshing Sangria (wine) on themselves and everyone who entered through the door right beneath them, so now they were more dressed in pink than white. Also, for the rest of the evening, they threw the fruit that had been in their Sangria on the crowd below, so we periodically got pelted with orange and pineapple slices.

The bullfights were pretty good, certainly interesting. The outfits of the men are of sequins and satin so tight that it seemed like they had to either be wearing thongs or nothing at all, something I could see even from the second balcony. A series of poses in which the men are preceded by their pelvises and puffed up chests were evidently an important style factor. So was slowly pointing their pink-stockinged feet and bending at the waist in elaborate ways as the bull charged past. The second matador had such a good fight that he was awarded the ear of the bull, a huge honor.

After the bullfight, since we (like so many others) had nowhere to stay, we had about ten hours to kill before it was time to store our bags and line up to run with the bulls. I had been sick with a fever and a sore throat and stomach problems and god knows what else in the two days before, so we deemed it unwise to get wasted. Alcohol + being sick already = bad, in my experience. It was kinda too bad, because heavily intoxicated is how every one else was spending the night, and it sure would have helped to pass the time. Alas. So we wandered around, had a sandwich, and decided to see Madagascar (dubbed in Spanish). That left only around 7 hours to kill. I had thought that we would be able to sleep, but it was too cold to fall asleep. Not freezing, just a bit too uncomfortable to be able to achieve sleep. We spent the rest of the night wandering all over, overstaying our welcome in warm, food-providing establishments by purchasing a coffee and sitting there for and hour, purchasing some chicken and sitting in another place for an hour, etc.

What could be a better idea than, after nearly 24 hours of no sleep, setting yourself in front of several 1200-pound, confused animals and thousands of frightened runners? Nothing! So we lined up to run. I had heard that they didn´t let women run, so I was concerned about that. But I figured that if they pulled me out, I would just slip back in. Turns out they do let women run, but few are stupid enough to do so. I looked around, and there were about 2 women to every 100 men. The rocket signaling the release of the bulls went off at 8:00, and the adrenaline of everyone immediately jumped. We had lined up near the end or the course, with about 75-100 yards to go, because you want to make it into the bullring with the bulls, not before (like the wusses). Nor do you want to be passed by the bulls, and not make it in.

Holy shit! Those animals are effing huge! They came charging and I wisely moved off to the side, but this middle-aged guy did not, and he got gored in the back right beside me! Let me tell you something about people running from bulls: they think only of themselves. I was pushed, shoved, and grabbed (in a scared, not sexual way). It was crazy out there, everyone for him or herself. We pounded toward the ring, jostling wildly and with many fearful glances over our shoulders, not knowing where the next bulls were. One dangerous part is right before the entrance to the ring, when the road bottlenecks, but we cleared it with no problem, and were greeted like gladiators upon entering the ring, which was packed with the people not crazy enough to run.

You might think, Whew! That´s it, that was fun, how nice for it to be over. But no. There´s more! Once in the ring, we were locked in there for the next 40 minutes. The big bulls raced straight through, but then they released six little bulls one at a time. Man vs Beast. The little bulls were fast, but had their horns corked. Damn could they move! And turn on a dime! You can´t see them coming either, until the rest of the people in the ring part and it´s charging right at you. Sometimes the bull won. There were many maulings/attempted gorings/flippings/thowings, mostly successful revenge on the stupid (invariably male) teens who would slap the bull on its nose or ass and then try to run away. Tw0 of the bulls succeeded in leaping out of the ring into the pathway between the wall of the ring and the wall below where the seats began. It ran a confused lap and then was let back in for more harrassment.

Crap, out of time. We spent the rest of the day passed out on the grass in front of the train station.

Drew and I took a ferry to Greece, stayed the night in Athens, then took another ferry out to the Cyclades (some of the Greek Isles). We first went to Paros, where we spent two days reading the last of our precious English paperbacks, relaxing and playing in the ocean. Then we went to Naxos, where we camped for another three nights. Naxos rules. The Greek Isles rule. It is way cheap (camping is only 5 euros per person per night!), and also relaxing after all of the rushing around big cities that we had been doing. I saw the stars in the night sky for the first time in several months, and that both awed and saddened me.

The first day in Naxos, despite the hefty amount of sunscreen that I slathered all over myself, I got a bit burnt. We didn´t want to be out in the sun all day the second day, so we rented an ATV, one of those 4-wheelers, to explore the island. Driving one of those was a childhood dream fulfilled. (Calm down Mom, we had helmets). I quickly learned to keep my mouth closed because bugs do fly in there. Our turtle shell-like helmets, combined with Drew´s aviator sunglasses and the bugs flying in our faces made it all very Me, Myself and Irene. The drive was gorgeous, and the landscape of Naxos remarkably varied for how small it is. It is all quite dry, but farmers have managed to plant some crops in the little valleys and on the hills, using stepped-terrace farming or whatever. We passed lots of goats and donkeys and old weathered men. The towns are tiny and consist of a cluster of boxy white houses, complimented by a boxy white Greek church, sometimes with the dome painted blue. You can´t get lost because there is only one paved road that sort of winds and branches around the island. Was this all-purpose highway meant to be shared among mopeds, cars, trucks, and little ATV´s? Perhaps not, but that didn´t stop everybody from doing it. Actually, we hardly met anyone on the road, except immediately before and after the little towns.

We came back to Athens for one night, and saw the Acropolis and all that. Impressive, but less so after all that we´d seen in Italy. Athens is also really dirty and run down, and it kind of reminded me of Mexico in that way. It just kinda surprised me.

I am afraid that my internet time will run out, so I will log off. I am back in Spain now, in Valencia, so you can call my cell phone if you have the number, which I don´t want to post. I will be back in the States on the 14th.

Whew! So many places! Drew and I had delicious beer at the famous beer gardens of Munich, wine and pizza and pasta in Venice and Florence, and now we are in Sienna. Tomorrow we go to Rome. It has been wonderful to see Drew again, and I enjoy sharing the experience of Europe with him.

Munich was cool. Germany definitely wins for Frisbee-friendly parks. Berlin had the Tiergarten and Munich has the ginormous Englischergarten, or however you spell those. We went to some sights, saw a bunch of statues of like fiberglass lions, Bavarian lions I guess, all painted different colors. We had liter-sized steins of beer in the middle of the day (which then makes you have to pee all day, so I dont necessarily recommend it), and walked to Marian-something-platz, through the shopping district, to an outdoor market, to the park, and to some palace. The cleanliness and environmental awareness of Germany impressed me. The US could stand to learn a thing or two from them. The trash cans, for example, were not just trash cans, they were four bins: one for trash, one for paper, one for glass and one for plastic containers.

Italy most definitely loses in the parks-with-wide-open-grassy-areas-for-tossing contest. There are few trees in the cities, mostly just lots of windy streets. Florence is humid, or at least this is how Drew explains the miserable, sweaty stickiness. He says “humidity,” something I am not familiar with in Sourthern Oregon nor Southern California, is when you sweat but then the sweat cant dry, so it just sticks there all day, being gross. This is how it feels in Florence. It causes me to wonder why anyone would ever choose to live in an area so god-forsaken as to have the misfortune of being humid. Gew.
Aside from being humid, Florence was beautiful. So was Venice. Both difficult to navigate, but whatevs, because half the fun is just wandering, looking at the buildings, and stumbling upon plazas. And pizza! And gelato! Possibly the best things ever. Mmmm.
The Uffizi was well worth the freaking two hour wait. I love how they organize it pretty much in chronological order, so that you get a complete tour through Renaissance art.

More later. Out of internet time.

I am in Prague. The Boy left this morning to go to Granada, and I have only two more days to wait before Drew gets here. Needless to say, I am stoked.

The first day here we met up with Sam, an Ultimate friend of his named Henry, and Jacob. We played beer pong in someones apartment and then went to this awesome five-level club. The next day the Boy and I wandered around, climbed up to this castle, crossed Charles Bridge, walked around the old town, and then met with Sam to toss.

Today I did laundry, finally, and then went to this mall that has a bunch of nice clothes, cheap ones because its Prague, but I couldnt buy any because I have no room in my backpack to carry them. So lame.

Went to Paris, Antwerp, Amsterdam, and am now in Berlin with Michael. Christ, too much to summarize, but here are some things I have noticed:
- The French do not bath regularly. This is not a stereotype. Seriously, everyone has horrific BO.
- Belgian beer is delicious.
- Dutch grass is fabulous. Ha, and ironically, while we were legally smoking weed in Amsterdam, the Supreme Court in the US decided that federal anti-medical marijuana laws trump state ones. But the ACLU says otherwise.
- The Germans have really weird advertisements. And there are lots of punk and metal people here. Crazy haircuts.
- I think the Germans dress the most like Americans, As in, more casual. Because in Spain and France everyone was super dressed up all the time.
- I cannot say difinitively that German food is gross, but it sure looks gross. We have been sticking to shawarma and falafel. Mmmm.

Thats it for now. Out of internet time.

Right now I am in Santillana del Mar with my mom, dad, and the Boy. It is a tiny medieval town close to the Mar Cantabrico (whatever that sea is in English). I have been living it up with my parents, staying in sweet hotels and eating expensive meals. I have to enjoy it now, because soon it will be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and crappy hostels where you have to rent sheets.

A couple days ago we went to the Picos de Europa, these incredible mountains with National Geographic-style views. Absolutely breathtaking. And we scored weather-wise too, because it was clear and warm that day. Before we got here it was raining and yesterday it was hazy, but the day we went up to the mountains was perfect. Anyways, we took this tram up to around 6,000 ft, where there was still snow even though it was warm. It was gorgeous and smelled fresh and made me really want to go camping. The road to get there reminded me of the highway to get to the Redwoods or Highway 138 to get to Canton Creek. Real picturesque and lined with trees trees trees, hills, valleys, ferns, with the road following a creek, and everything emerald green. The coast is amazing too, like how I would imagine the western shores of Ireland to look. I had no idea Spain could look like this. Again, all of this really makes me want to get home and go camping. Actually, it prompted me to go online yesterday and reserve a campsite at Jed Smith State Park (the Redwoods) this August because I haven´t been there in way too long. Canton Creek, hiking Pilot Rock, and this awesome waterfall that is in a poster I had in my room but only recently discovered is in Oregon, are also on the summer agenda.

I have been reading lots of good books, listening to music, and relaxing. Have had some good conversations with the Boy, and look forward to more. It was sad to leave my Spanish family, as I had become close to the mom and one of the sisters. But I will see them again in July before I fly home.

I am in Toledo with my family, who arrived Tuesday. We had lunch with my Spanish family and walked around Madrid a bit, then came to Toledo for a night. Toledo is super medieval, with streets barely wide enough for cars. We saw the Burial of Count Orgaz, by El Greco, and a cathedral and a bunch of tourist stores with swords and knives. Plus Mom and Dad have been taking us out to some nice restaurants for dank dinners. Mmmm.

Tomorrow we see a Real Madrid soccer game at home, playing Atletico Madrid, so that should be awesome. Ok, not much internet time. More later.

I am finally finished, thank god. I just turned in my last paper, and now I am FREEEE!!! I am going to go to the park to day, toss, go shopping, and buy some good English paperbacks so I can sit around and read and relax. Ahhhh. Let the summer begin.

Last night a bunch of us girls went to Alison´s piso to watch the OC, which she had downloaded. But now we don´tknow what happened on the episode that ran last night in the States and we are all wound up and anxious because we desperately need to know what happened in the lives of these fictional characters 7,000 miles away! Sigh.

Mom, Dad, and the Boy get here in just four days! Then I start traveling for two months. Woot! I am going to travel with the fam for two weeks, then Mom and Dad go back and the Boy and I continue on. I am thinking the Boy and I will do Paris, somewhere in Belgium, Amsterdam, Berlin, and Prague. Because then I meet up with Drew in Prague! We are doing Italy, Greece, Greek Isles, and Valencia, Madrid, Pamplona (just in time to see the running of the bulls). Then I go home, broke and tired. Woo!

Ok, off to the park.

Happy (belated) birthday Christine! Sorry I am a bad former roomie with a bad memory. I hope you had a great 21st!

Procrastinating. Wrote a 4-page econ paper in Spanish yesterday, and was quite proud of myself. Today I am supposed to be writing a politics paper, but I can´t get into it because my brain is close to fried. It feels really claustrophobic in this computer lab. Ugh. A history final tomorrow, this paper, and then I am done. Done-y done done, as Christine would say. Ok, I really can´t justify procrastinating anymore. I already read the Onion and the news on imdb.com, so now the internet is running out of ways to distract me, which I suppose is good.