"It's the bulls or me." As far as ultimatums from the wife go, this one hardly seemed unreasonable. Either Carlos Gil could opt to be chased down Pamplona's narrow streets by half a dozen 100-stone bulls, or he could return to the bosom of familial life and keep his buttocks and marriage intact.
Carlos, one of Pamplona's most venerated bull runners, had only just made his choice. He would return home to his wife in Malaga. But, as he blinked back the tears I realised that the encierro runs not only through the streets of this Basque town, but also through the veins of the men of Navarre.
When, as a fresh-faced 18-year-old, Carlos first ducked under the wooden barriers that line the half-mile course to confront the bulls in honour of St Fermin, the co-patron of the town, it represented a coming of age. For eight consecutive July mornings for the next 42 years he lined up to face the toros again. He was now 62; his mind and body were still willing. But his wife was not ... (Klik egin-ver más)
Telegraph Travel
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario