Euro Adventures

I have no idea what will happen next, and it's terrifying. Everywhere I look, false bravado is betrayed by panic-stricken faces. It's been about thirty seconds since the rockets exploded into the air, signifying the release of the bulls, and any second now I'll hear their hooves smacking against the narrow, cobbled streets of Pamplona.

How did I even end up here, risking my life for a cheap thrill? Two days ago I was in my safe and secure office in London, at my safe and secure job selling insurance to people who want safety and security. Sure, it's excruciatingly dull, but there's little chance of being gored by the horns of a 1300 kg beast.

But before I even worry about escaping the wrath of the bulls, I'll have to avoid getting trampled to death by a sea of kamikaze runners, all clad in traditional white with red bandannas and waistbands. Fall over once this mob starts moving, and you won't be getting back up any time soon. Crammed into this narrow street and with nowhere to move, my face is uncomfortably pressed up against the shoulder blades of the freakishly tall Dutchman in front of me.

I taste the saltiness from what I pray is my own sweat trickling into my mouth just as I hear the banshee-like screams coming from behind me. The bulls must be close now. The anticipation amongst the crowd shifts up another notch, as people try to barge their way to safety through the white and red wall of flesh.

Finally, things are moving up ahead and we have some space to breathe. I prepare to run for my life. To run to the safety and security that I'll surely find at the finish.

But as I start running, adrenaline pounding through my body, I feel something shift. The frenetic energy created by this shared experience, this chaos, is intoxicating. As I look up to the balconies of the small villas above and spy the uninhibited senoritas dancing and drinking sangria, I realize something. I'm no longer running for my life. I'm running to celebrate it.

As I turn around to soak in the expressions on the faces of my fellow runners, I see him. Big. Black. Bearing down on me with ferocious intensity. El Toro in all his glory; fire practically blaring from his nostrils. I turn back around and continue to run. I have no idea what will happen next, and it's exhilarating.