Caution - this post may not be suitable for young children, vegetarians, or wussies in general

I had a slight change of plans and decided not to head down to Gibraltar. I just thought it would be too much for one trip. So the day after the wedding I went to walk around in and ended up staying in Sevilla. And all I can say about that place is … “Holy Shit Batman, this is a beautiful town!” I just walked around a small part of it for one afternoon, and was absolutely floored by the beauty of the place. The Cathedral is incredible as is the Real Alcazar palace.





The place I stayed in Sevilla was a dump, but it had a bed and a roof and that’s all I was looking for. When I left the next morning I stopped by the bridge for some nice toasted bread with olive oil, tomatoes, and Serrano ham. I‘m really digging this Spanish food.



When I got to the hotel in Madrid, I found that the guy didn’t have a reservation for me. He had a room, but there seemed to be a question of how it was to be paid for. I told him that I had already paid over the internet, but he didn’t have the paperwork. He didn’t speak English, I don’t speak Spanish. He finally just gave me the key for the room.

I dropped my stuff in the room and headed for the Plaza de Toros. I had asked for directions from some girl on the street earlier while looking for the hotel. She told me that the bullring was on the other side of town. This I could not understand because I know I saw it on the way in, and I picked this hotel because it was close by. But not knowing which direction to head in, and now how far away it was I took a taxi. After a ten minute ride (at least five of which was spent stopped in traffic) we were there. Great! It was less than a mile from the hotel. The cab driver told me that there were two bullrings in Madrid, so the girl must have been thinking of the other one. Either that or she figured I was a stupid American who didn’t know his geography.

At the ticket window of the Plaza de Toros, the girl asked me where I wanted seats the shade or the sun. Apparently, since the fights are held late in the day, the sun can get really bad when you are facing it. It had been cloudy all day so I replied, “What sun?” She agreed and gave me third row seats on the “sunny” side. The sun never did break through the clouds, so I ended up with excellent seats.



Let me tell you something about a bullfight, for those who have never been to one. It has got to be the most grisly, barbarous, surreal, cruel, bloodthirsty, brutal, vicious, sadistic, gory, and inhumane spectacle I have ever witnessed in my entire life. And I loved every minute of it! I had just finished a short story by Hemingway about a bullfight, so I had some idea of what they were doing. But I still was not prepared for actually witnessing it. The pageantry of it is really something, and these guys that are out there with the bulls have some really big, brass, huevos.

Here is the cast of characters in a bullfight:

The Peones - These guys handle the bull when he first gets into the ring, distract him, and tire him out with the capes and do other things as needed.

The Picadors - These guys are on horseback and stick the bull in the neck and shoulder with a long lance and pole.

The Bandilleros - These are sometimes the Peones or it can be the Matador, but they stick the bull in the neck and shoulders with banderillas (basically 2 foot spears with a sharp barbed tip with a swivel).

The Matador - The Main Dude in this attraction.

At the moment the bull enters the ring he seems a bit disoriented, but as soon as he sees one of the Peones with the bright pink and yellow capes he charges. These huge animals are so aggressive; they just run around the ring trying to get someone. There are about four of these Peones with the capes, and their job is to get the fresh bull to charge so that the Matador can see how aggressive he is and what his tendencies are. They also distract the bull when the gate is opened to allow the picadors on horseback into the ring, or if something happens to someone or something in the ring. There are barricades placed around the ring that the Peones can duck behind when the bull charges. You should see the expression on their faces when the bull is bearing down on them and they are running for this barricade. Some of them are quite funny.



After a little time is spent teasing the bulls, a horn sounds and it is time for the Picadors to enter the ring on horseback. There are two of them at opposite sides of the ring. The horses are well armored with some type of blankets that protect them from being disemboweled. They are also blindfolded so they can’t see what is coming at them or what is about to happen. The Peones or the Matador will play with the bull until he sees a horse. Once he sees the horse he will charge it. When the bull gets close enough the Picador puts a long lance into the back of the bull’s neck, and leans on it with all of his weight. This is meant to tire the bull, to get some blood out of him, and to prevent him from getting his head under the horse. The horses were upended a couple of times this evening, but the horses were OK. The bull meets the Picador two times during the fight. It may be the same Picador twice or each Picador once, depending on where the bull goes.



After this another horn will blow and it’s time for the banderillas. The banderillas are basically spears, about 2 feet long with colourful wrappings and sharp barbs at the end. The Matador or his Peones may act as the Banderilleros (the person charged with sticking the banderillas into the bull). They are alone in the ring at this time, holding the banderillas overt their heads and calling to the bull. When they get close enough they stick the banderillas into the back of the bull’s neck, and run like hell. This is repeated three times, with different Peones or sometimes the Matador will do it all. After the third attempt by the Banderillos, the horn sounds again.



Now with the bull being sufficiently tired from the teasing and loss of blood, the Matador enters the ring with a small red cape and a sword. The Matador will now try to get the bull to do a series of charges, much shorter and closer to the Matador. He will constantly try to get the bull lower, sometimes bringing him to his knees. After a couple of these the Matador may turn his back on the bull and face the crowd posing as if in triumph. After a little more than five minutes of this, the bull is extremely tired, and his movements become easier for the Matador to control.



The Matador then heads to the side of the ring and exchanges swords. This is the killing sword. He lines up the bull and when the bull makes a charge, the Matador leaps to one side and thrusts the sword between the shoulder blades of the bull. If he does it right, the sword will go all the way in and puncture the lungs and other organs. If the sword doesn’t go all the way in, he may get a long hook and pull it out and try again. The Peones will distract the bull during his final throws until he lies down on his side. One of the Peones will then stab the bull in the base of the skull with a dagger to makes sure he is dead.



After the bull is dead, the Matador accepts his applause and may walk around the ring accepting the accolades from the crowd. The bull has a rope harness wrapped around his horns and the carcass is drug out of the ring by a team of donkeys and down a passageway under the stands. (I was told by a friend that they butcher the bulls nearby and that the meat is considered a delicacy, but I have not verified that.)



After the bull is dragged out a couple of guys rake out the blood filled sand and in a couple of minutes another bull enters the ring and the entire thing starts again. The whole fight lasts about 20-30 minutes, and three Matadors do two fights each per night.

It really is quite a spectacle. The last Matador was gored by the bull on his killing thrust, but the batteries on my camera had already died by that time. The bull got him on his thigh. He walked out of the ring on his own, but that’s gonna leave a mark.

After the fight I decided to walk back to the hotel and stopped in a café/bar/restaurant along the way. I had a couple of small sandwiches, one with Chorizo and one with Morcilla de Arroz (blood sausage made with rice). Both were very good as were the two glasses of Rioja.

The next morning I found out from the main desk at the hotel that my credit card had been denied, and that is why the guy at the desk was unable to find out what was going on. Upon my return, I discovered that the Credit Union in Kentucky doesn’t accept charges from Spain because they have a lot of fraud coming from that area. In fact they hardly accept charges from any European countries. I asked them about fraud in the U.S., and she said that if they didn’t accept charges from the U.S. there would be no reason to have the card (which is funny, because that was just what I was thinking).

So I paid the hotel and headed downtown to see if I could get into the Van Gogh exhibit. Alas I was too late, 15 minutes after the museum had opened and they were selling tickets for 2.5 hours later. I knew I needed to leave time to get to the airport. With the way Daphne and I were getting along, I was wondering if she would even tell me where it was. So I wandered around a bit in Madrid and took some pictures.







Then I decided to head back to the airport. Trust me there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth during this trip, but I made it there on time, and landed in Frankfurt after a rather uneventful flight.

In Frankfort it was a bit chillier than it was in Spain, and I got on the train dressed in shorts and a short sleeve dress shirt. This guy was sitting across from me on the train and was just looking at me and shaking his head. He had jeans and a jacket on and here is this guy sitting across from him in shorts. I think I really upset him. He gave me a look of disdain that I usually only get from women.

When I finally got home to Hattenheim all I wanted to do was drop my bags and drink a good German beer, which I did several times (I only dropped the bags once though). I woke up Tuesday morning to find that I had no hot water in my apartment. So I went back to bed. I woke up an hour and a half later and called in ‘dirty’ to work. I told them, I have no hot water and I’m too dirty to come to work. I also called my landlord, and then made a pot of coffee. A guy finally came by to fix it, and after a shower I drove into town and ran some errands. I finally made it to the office about 15:00 or so. I took the whole day as a sick day, and just checked my mail, my email, and talked to the boss about a future deployment.

The trip to Africa never happened and another trip that was supposed to happen next week has also been cancelled. I think I’ve got a longer term trip coming up, but I’m not going to say where for fear of jinxing it. If it happens you should know in about two weeks.