Darcie and I attended a bullfight in Spain and call me naïve, but I had no idea of what actually went down at a bullfight before I went to one. In other words, I didn’t realize the bull died, or that the “bull fighter” leveled the playing field by stabbing the bull a few times before the match even started. I knew that a guy in fancy attire comes out and waves a cape around to rile the bull up, and honestly, that’s what I thought we were getting ourselves into.
Now would be a good time to warn you, some of these pics are pretty gruesome.
Most of the crowd was local.
If the fighter doesn’t succeed in killing the bull fast enough (they do countless matches throughout the day, so they have to move things along), then they will bring him a sword to finish the job once the bull is weak enough. You know … because things weren’t unfair enough as it is.
So Darcie and I couldn’t stick around to watch more than two of these fights. It was painfully brutal and something we’ll never unsee. And again, I definitely have a deep level of respect for other cultures, but there’s a big movement even within Spain to get bullfighting banned. When we went to Barcelona, it was outlawed there and they were very much against the practice. In any event, if you must go, you’ll find these rings throughout much of Spain. This is the one we went to … the creatively named Plaza de Toros.