Torros

On Saturday we went to the Plaza de Torros to watch a real life bullfight! I knew I wasn’t going to like it but wanted to say I had been to one so I agreed to join Carol, Luke (from Sevilla), Paul and a few others. We sat on the sunny side of the ring (the two ticket options are ‘sun’ and ‘shade’) next to a very old man with an smoking-for-60-years voice who was more than happy to chat with us about the sport (and apparently also put ham on his face after I left). So basically it started with all of the guys coming out- the Matador, Picador, and Banderilleros and the band played and everyone cheered- the crowd went nuts at various times throughout the evening!! Then the awful action begun. The poor little giant bull came trotting out and looked up at the thousands of people in the crowd with a mix of confusion and curiosity until the torreros began to stab him with various lances, sticks and swords. Then, as he was humiliated and tortured, he was taunted with the waves of capes and flags by the guys on foot and horseback until he finally (slowly) died. At this point I was so upset that I had to leave. Apparently, though, it got much better as the evening progressed, and I had just witnessed an inexperienced torero with very little artistic flare. And I do have to admit; I could see the potential to appreciate this as an art, once you became desensitized to the death of the bull. I am not going to start protesting or anything, but I definitely won’t be going back.

SABES QUES…
Bulls are actually colorblind and the red, pink, and yellow capes are for the benefit of the crowd.