There was a time in my life when I probably would have enjoyed spending a drunken week in wine-stained garments, sleeping in parks in the daytime and getting trashed in the night...but that time, it appears, has passed.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
San Fermin
I was really happy to be out of Pamplona. We were here for the Festival of San Fermin, and you know what, I am just not into big, drunken, festivities like I once was. We stayed outside the city (thank goodness) and drove in for the Encierros (running of the bulls) in the mornings. The city smelled like shit, the ground was alternately slick and sticky with beer and urine, and even at seven in the morning, drunken boys were constantly yelling at me, surrounding me, or trying to kiss me.
There was a time in my life when I probably would have enjoyed spending a drunken week in wine-stained garments, sleeping in parks in the daytime and getting trashed in the night...but that time, it appears, has passed.
There was a time in my life when I probably would have enjoyed spending a drunken week in wine-stained garments, sleeping in parks in the daytime and getting trashed in the night...but that time, it appears, has passed.
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