Through the Stampede: My Heart-Pounding Run with the Bulls

Every July, the small city of Pamplona, Spain, transforms into a whirlwind of energy, tradition, and adrenaline. The San Fermín Festival, famously known for the Running of the Bulls, is a week-long celebration that combines centuries-old customs, nonstop festivities, and a daring dash through the cobblestone streets. This year, I decided to experience it for myself—and it’s a story I’ll never forget.

A Festival Like No Other

The San Fermín Festival dates back to the 16th century, honoring Saint Fermín, the patron saint of Navarre. While the bull run, or encierro, is its most iconic event, the festival offers much more: parades, traditional music, fireworks, and an incredible sense of community.

From the moment I arrived in Pamplona, the atmosphere was electric. Locals and visitors alike were dressed in the traditional white outfits with red scarves, a symbol of the festival’s vibrant spirit. The streets were alive with singing, dancing, and laughter that lasted well into the night.

The Run

Participating in the Running of the Bulls was both exhilarating and terrifying. The day began early, with runners gathering in the streets before sunrise. As the clock struck 8:00 AM, the first rocket fired, signaling the release of the bulls.

Standing in the narrow streets, surrounded by hundreds of runners, my heart pounded in my chest. The anticipation was almost unbearable. Suddenly, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, the cannon fired, shattering the silence, and the sound of hundreds of feet pounding the cobblestones came like a tidal wave.

Men of all sizes sprinted around the corner, signaling it was time to run—or risk being trampled. Chaos erupted as runners stumbled and fell in front of us. We sprinted, dodged, and leaped over fallen bodies, each step a desperate attempt to stay upright.

For brief moments, I caught glimpses of the bulls thundering beside us, their massive forms commanding both fear and awe. But, in all honesty, the bulls weren’t my biggest concern during the run—it was the sheer crush of men around me.

The real danger came from the human chaos: men falling to the ground, creating sudden pileups, and those behind surging forward with unstoppable momentum. Each misstep could mean going down yourself, and the thought of being swallowed by the stampede kept me laser-focused. Jumping over fallen runners, dodging others, and trying to avoid being pushed down was as much a mental game as it was physical.

The route eventually led us into the main arena, where the adrenaline was far from over. Once all the runners had entered, the larger bulls that had charged alongside us were ushered out, and smaller, more agile steers were released into the enclosed space. With the gates now sealed, the arena erupted into pure chaos.

The steers sprinted wildly, kicking up clouds of dust as they charged through the sea of runners. Men scattered and regrouped, some daringly taunting the steers while others attempted risky stunts—touching them, leaping over their backs, or even performing backflips. The energy was electric, a mix of thrill, danger, and sheer madness.

I did my best to keep a safe distance, but the crowd was so dense it was impossible to predict where the steers would come from. The only warning you got was the sudden break in the crowd—a split second before the steer would come barreling toward you, head down and unrelenting. Each time, my heart raced as I dodged and scrambled to stay out of its path.

Each time a new steer was about to be released into the arena, men would pile up in front of the gate, forming a barricade of bodies, one atop the other. The daring display looked chaotic and thrilling, so I made my way toward the gate, curious to join in. As I approached, a few men glanced at me with surprise, clearly not expecting a woman to partake in this male-dominated tradition.

Two men hesitated, exchanging a look before one cautiously asked if I truly intended to join the pile. When I proudly said yes, their initial concern softened into smiles. They shrugged, nodded, and motioned for me to join. With a surge of excitement, I climbed into the heap and lay down with the rest of the men.

The atmosphere in the pile was electric, buzzing with nerves and anticipation. Heads were tucked low, arms braced tightly, as we prepared to face the steer. The goal was to protect ourselves from the possibility of it crashing into us—or worse, failing to leap high enough over the barricade.

The crowd roared wildly, their cheers echoing through the arena, but then suddenly, everything fell silent. All we could hear was the creak of the gate. Then came the unmistakable thudding of hooves on the packed dirt, growing louder with each beat. A sprinkle of dirt hit the back of my neck, and my heart raced. 

The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, breaking the tension, as the steer cleared us in one powerful leap. In an instant, we all scrambled to our feet and darted out of the way, exhilarated and breathless from the experience.

A Reflection on Tradition

The Running of the Bulls is undeniably controversial. For many, it’s a cherished cultural tradition and a way to honor centuries of history. For others, it raises important questions about animal rights and modern ethics. Experiencing it firsthand gave me a deeper understanding of both perspectives, and I left Pamplona with a newfound respect for its complex cultural heritage.

Tips for Experiencing San Fermín

If you’re considering joining the San Fermín Festival, here are a few things to keep in mind:

1. Plan Ahead: Accommodation fills up quickly, so book early.

2. Dress the Part: Wear the traditional white and red outfit to blend in with the festivities.

3. Understand the Risks: Running with the bulls is dangerous. Know your limits, and take safety seriously.

4. Soak in the Culture: Don’t just focus on the bull run—enjoy the parades, music, and local food.

An Experience to Remember

Running with the bulls at the San Fermín Festival was one of the most intense and memorable experiences of my life. It’s a celebration of tradition, courage, and community that truly captures the spirit of Pamplona.