We didn’t have anything other than the bull fight planned for today, so we took it easy in our room and read our books until noon. We had picked out a restaurant nearby that we had not been to yet and went there for lunch.
We had an adorable waiter, whose only knowledge of English was “thank you very much” and “was it good”, and each time he was near our table, he said on or other other to us.
After lunch we headed for Santander, hoping to find a parking spot fairly close to the ring. We took our blankets with us as cushions to sit on and were glad we did. The seats were 2 skinny boards with a few inches gap between them which would have been very uncomfortable.
That afternoon we watched 6 beautiful animals destroyed for entertainment as people cheered. The lady at the travel agency was right – we did not enjoy it. To a certain extent, I was glad we had gone. The bulls would have been killed whether we were there or not and this was something that is tradition. It didn’t help me understand why they enjoy watching this though.
The bull is wounded terribly before the matador even steps into the ring. The fights don’t take very long, since he has to be killed before he drops dead on his own. One matador was boo’d when his bull went down before he could make his final stab.
The best matador of the day (according to the cheers) was Angel.
That night we went back to the same restaurant where we had lunch today and got the same adorable waiter. I had paella and sangria. 🙂 Our waiter made the sangria himself and said it was his specialty. He told us this in French (since we’re Canadian).
I have some pictures of the bull fight, but all were taken before the bulls were injured. Here are 2 of the fights and one of Angel the matador as he made his victory walk.
Today was Friday July 25th, 1975.