go to a bullfight in spain

I was a little hesitant at going. Previously, in my Spanish class, I left the room in protest when we watched a video of a bullfight (during my PETA/hippie/vegetarian phase). This past summer though I was in Spain, the opportunity to see a bullfight came up, and I decided to go.

Once you get there, you get so caught up in the spirit of a bullfight. Everyone’s yelling and cheering and there’s pretty good music, too. You can really see the sport and artistry to it. The more I think about it, the more I see that there’s not really anything wrong with it (or at least nothing more wrong than killing any other animal for food or for sport). I mean, think about it: the point is to kill the animal in the most humane way possible. Yes, the picadores at the beginning pierce and spear the animals but for an animal of that size it’s nowhere near severe an injury as people make it out to be.

Plus, when I was there I saw a matador get gored in the butt. He was fine, don’t worry, and it was totally hysterical.

It really is fascinating – and I can put myself in the Hemingway Club too here – but once is enough.

They are gory, heart wrenching, depressing, and cruel – but an important part of cultural Spain. I could almost hear my cultural horizons expanding when I entered the arena – and certainly left a changed person.

Do it if you can!

This is a fascinating experience, but only if you can handle a lot of gore. If you are a hardcore animal lover, it may be too much to handle. But I thought it was a really interesting thing to see, the kind of opportunity I might never have again.

I’ve never been one of those people who is terrified of seeing their food while it’s alive, being processed, grilled, and finally eaten. Or doing all that myself. So with this in mind, and after reading The Sun Also Rises, I gotta say this is something I have to see in person.

People have such strong views on this, people who don’t understand the cultural importance that is. The bullfights are an integral part of visiting Spain!

Like many people I read Hemingway and decided to go to a bullfight at Las Ventas in Madrid. It was extraordinarily camp, brutally cruel, and vaguely depressing. Madrid was great though.