Calm before the storm

I hope you've seen the photos from the bull fight I went to Sunday night. If not, check them out in the preceding post. And in case you were wondering about the poll, the answer is "100 seagulls, where will they go?" The paper I wrote is along the lines of Alfred Hitchcock's 1963 thriller, "The Birds." This comes from the times seagulls have attacked yours truly just for eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. For those not familiar with the film, swarms of birds attack people in California. Now, without further ado ...

Sunday afternoon, we bought tickets, which ranged from about 10 to 50 euros (approximately $13 to $60). Ours were 11 euros, so we thought we'd be up in the rafters.

The fight was scheduled for 7 p.m., so we took the bus into town about an hour before. Outside the stadium, vendors were selling Coke cans for 2 euros, as well as other drinks and snacks that are sold at American sporting events.

The first challenge was figuring out where to go. In the states, you have a section, a row and a seat, so it's relatively straightforward. In Spain, the ticket shows a door (gate), section, row and number. In American stadiums, everything is logical and marked clearly.

Anyway, we entered the stadium and immediately noticed how close we were to the field. The place is set up with a lower section and an upper section. We were in the lower section, which is only a few feet away from the actual field. So we asked an usher where our seats were, and he motioned toward the section right in front of us. The section number wasn't marked anywhere we could see it, but the usher said we were in the right place. There were no seats, only spaces marked with numbers along brick rows. We noticed other numbers, but they didn't seem to correspond to sections or rows.

In the lower section, there are three rows, then a walkway, then the rest of the section, so it took us a moment to figure out that we were essentially in the sixth row. But the rows weren't even marked. Confusing? Believe me, I know.

Now I'm pretty thin and was sitting next to a friend who isn't much bigger than I am. Even we were cramped. In our section, everybody was packed in, while other sections were nearly empty. It has something to do with the way tickets are sold.

Once we settled in (with reasonable comfort), we flipped through the program. A friend noticed that a female would be one of three people fighting the bulls, which is really rare. We wondered how the crowd would react to her, and how she would do with two male fighters. Also, all three fighters were barely older than 20. This was a small-scale bull fight, with smaller bulls and younger fighters, but we knew it would still be intense.

Camera crews, foreigners and Seville natives alike gathered for the event. At 7 p.m., music from a live band in the upper level signaled the beginning of the procession.

A diverse group came out onto the field. Men on horses joined others wearing jewels and holding red banners. They took the customary stroll around the field and prepared for the first bull to come out.

To be continued ...