Since we had chosen to spend as little as possible, our tickets were in the amphitheater; more steps…steep steps. Once at the top, we decided that the view was worth it.
Never thought I'd be at a bullfight, but interesting.
We waited for an hour as the crowd filed in, listening to the men yelling “CHAPEAUS” and “BOISSON FRESH” and “SHOO SHOO” whatever that is.
Kurt, lookin' all Frenchy with his scarf.
Chelsea, lookin' all Frenchy in my floppy hat.
Empty.........then packed!
When the arena was finally full, the band started playing, and the pomp and circumstance began. Matadors, roman soldiers with huge feathers in their helmets, and armored horses marched out. They all took their places behind the perimeter wall.
Then silence, the drum roll, then the first bull came out. He was mad from the start. The team of bullfighters with their pink capes taunted him. In an arena that large, you could hear each bullfighter yell “hey” to the bull. He would run at them, under their cape, then on to the next. At times, another bullfighter would run at the bull with no cape but two spears, one in each hand, the bull would in return run full charge at him. He would spear the bull in the back and run out of the way.
When the arena was finally full, the band started playing, and the pomp and circumstance began. Matadors, roman soldiers with huge feathers in their helmets, and armored horses marched out. They all took their places behind the perimeter wall.
Then silence, the drum roll, then the first bull came out. He was mad from the start. The team of bullfighters with their pink capes taunted him. In an arena that large, you could hear each bullfighter yell “hey” to the bull. He would run at them, under their cape, then on to the next. At times, another bullfighter would run at the bull with no cape but two spears, one in each hand, the bull would in return run full charge at him. He would spear the bull in the back and run out of the way.
After several moments of this, the “head matador” (sorry I’m not up on my bullfight terminology) came out to great cheering. The bullfighters stood aside, the Matador tipped his hat to the crowd in all directions, then tossed it behind him and headed toward the bull. Again, dead silence. Exhibiting great showmanship with his red cape he yelled in a deep growly voice, “Hey! Hey!” As the bull, growing madder, ran under the cape, the crowd would yell, “Ole'!” Then silence again, out of respect for the matador. Finally, the matador would dare the bull to charge him by swinging the cape behind him. Then bend and stretch and let the cape take the bull.
The first matador made an error in judgment and the bull got his horn locked in his leg and threw him in the air and then to the ground.
Where it all went terribly wrong. Matador on left of the bull, cape on the right.
An upside-down Matador.
The bullfighters took over diverting the bull elsewhere, giving him a moment to recover. As he came back into the arena, the crowd cheered, happy that the bull hadn’t won. He soon put the bull out of its misery,(details too disturbing to share here) to the delight of the cheering fans. Two horses were let out to drag the bull out of the arena.
Celebrating his victory over the bull.
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