The Rocket Goes Up
The first thing you hear is not cheering. It is a kind of collective inhale — thousands of people in the Plaza Consistorial holding their breath at the same time, heads tilted up toward the City Hall balcony. Then the chupinazo rocket fires, and the sound hits you in the chest before your brain processes what happened. Wine goes everywhere. Champagne goes everywhere. Someone behind you cracks an egg on your head.
San Fermín has begun.
The festival runs July 6 to 14 every year, nine days, no variation. It honors the patron saint of Navarra, but let’s be honest — almost nobody comes for the saint. They come for the encierro, the running of the bulls, which Ernest Hemingway put on the international map in 1926 with The Sun Also Rises. A hundred years later, the city of Pamplona still hasn’t figured out whether to thank him or blame him for the attention.
875 Meters of Bad Ideas
Every morning from July 7 to 14, at 8:00 AM sharp, six fighting bulls and six steers are released from corrals at the bottom of Santo Domingo street. They run uphill through 875 meters of narrow cobblestone streets to the bullring. Hundreds of people run with them — ahead of them, beside them, sometimes underneath them.
The whole thing takes about two and a half to three minutes. That’s it. It is the most adrenaline-dense three minutes you can legally experience.
The Route, Section by Section
Santo Domingo is the opening stretch — steep, fast, and terrifying because the bulls are fresh out of the corral and running at full speed. You don’t see them coming so much as hear the hooves and then they’re past you. Or on top of you.
The course turns through the Plaza del Ayuntamiento, then funnels into Calle Mercaderes, which is narrow enough that there’s genuinely nowhere to go if things go wrong. The curve onto Calle Estafeta is where the TV cameras get their best footage — bulls lose footing on the cobblestones here and sometimes crash into the barriers. Estafeta itself is long and straight, which sounds reassuring until you realize the bulls are right behind you for the entire length of it.
The final stretch is the Callejón, the tunnel entrance to the bullring. This is widely considered the most dangerous point. Runners pile up at the bottleneck, people fall, and the bulls are still coming.
Who Runs
Anyone over 18. No registration, no waiver, no fee. You just show up before 7:30 AM and pick a spot on the course. The unwritten rules matter more than the written ones: run in the same direction as the bulls, never touch them, never run drunk (this one gets ignored more than it should), and if you fall, stay down flat and cover your head until they pass.
Most runners are local Pamplonans and experienced regulars. Tourists join in significant numbers. You can usually tell the difference.
The Danger Is Real
Fifteen people have died during the encierro since 1924. Between 50 and 100 injuries are treated during each festival — gorings, tramplings, broken bones from falls. The bulls weigh around 500-600 kg and can hit 25 km/h. This is not a curated experience with safety nets. It is six agitated animals in a stone corridor full of humans.
Before and After the Bulls
San Fermín is often reduced to the bull run, which is a bit like reducing Carnival to a single parade float. The encierro takes three minutes. The other twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes of each day are filled with things that are, in their own way, equally memorable.
The Gigantes y Cabezudos — Giants and Big-Heads — parade through the streets every morning. Eight giant figures, each over four meters tall, representing royal couples from four continents, dance to music while cabezudos (big-headed figures) chase children with foam batons. It is ridiculous and wonderful and the kids seem to love being terrified by it.
Each evening at 6:30 PM, the bulls that ran through the streets that morning face matadors in the Plaza de Toros. These are formal Spanish bullfights, and they provoke exactly the reactions you’d expect — strong feelings on all sides. Tickets run from around 20 euros for sol (sun) standing room to over 100 euros for sombra (shade) seats.
At night, the Plaza del Castillo becomes the city’s living room. Thousands of people drinking, singing, dancing. The peñas — local social clubs — march through the streets playing brass instruments at volumes that make conversation impossible. Fireworks competitions at the Citadel. Open-air dances called verbenas in every neighborhood. The noise does not stop.
The Scarf Rule and Other Things Nobody Tells You
The dress code is white clothing, a red pañuelo (scarf) around the neck, and a red faja (sash) at the waist. You can buy the full kit at any shop in Pamplona for 15-25 euros. Here’s the thing nobody mentions in the travel guides: you don’t tie the pañuelo until the chupinazo on July 6. Wearing it before that immediately identifies you as someone who didn’t do their homework.
The Pobre de Mí closing ceremony at midnight on July 14 is something else entirely. Thousands gather in the Plaza del Ayuntamiento holding candles, singing ‘Pobre de mí, pobre de mí, que se han acabado las fiestas de San Fermín’ — poor me, the festival of San Fermín is over. Scarves come off. The mood shifts from euphoria to something that genuinely resembles grief. I’ve read accounts from people who’ve gone multiple times, and they all say the same thing — the ending hits harder than they expected.
The Uncomfortable Logistics
Pamplona has about 200,000 residents. During San Fermín, over a million visitors descend on the city. The math doesn’t work, and everyone knows it.
Accommodation sells out months in advance, and prices go up by a factor of five or more. Many people stay in San Sebastián (about 80 km away) or Bilbao (160 km) and commute in. There are official campsites outside the city, which are popular but not exactly comfortable. If you’re booking a hotel, doing it three or four months ahead is not early — it’s late.
If you’re looking at flights into Bilbao or getting around the Basque Country, Trip.com tends to have decent options for flights and accommodation in the region. Worth comparing prices, at least.
Cash. Bring it. Many vendors and bars during the festival don’t take cards. ATMs run dry, especially at night. Pickpockets are active in the dense crowds — during the chupinazo, in the nighttime plazas, basically anywhere people are pressed together. Money belt, not back pocket.
Sleep is theoretical. The noise runs 24 hours. If you’re planning to run with the bulls at 8 AM, earplugs are not optional — they’re survival equipment. Most experienced festival-goers work in short naps rather than attempting anything resembling a normal night’s sleep.
Arrive by July 5 if you can. The city is already buzzing the night before the chupinazo, and missing the opening ceremony would be a genuine loss. If you plan to run, spend at least one full day watching from the barriers or a rented balcony (50-200 euros per person, book ahead) before you attempt it yourself.
For day trips to San Sebastián or activities around Navarra when you need a break from the chaos, GetYourGuide has some organized options. The pintxos tours in particular seem well-reviewed, though I haven’t done one personally.
If You’re Going to Run
Study the route. Watch from the barriers for a day. Run sober — I know this sounds obvious but apparently it needs repeating every year. Wear closed-toe shoes with decent grip. Stay near the walls. Know where the escape points are — gaps in the fencing where you can bail out if things go sideways.
RTVE (Spanish national television) broadcasts every run live. Watching the broadcast after your own run is a surreal experience, apparently — you see things you had no idea were happening ten meters behind you.
Not Quite Like Anything Else
San Fermín divides opinion and always has. The bullfighting question alone could fill a book. What’s not really debatable is the intensity — the full commitment of a city that decides, for nine days every July, that the normal rules of daily life are suspended.
The morning after I first read about the Pobre de Mí ceremony, I looked up flights to Bilbao. Then I looked at hotel prices for July in Pamplona and closed the tab. Some things require more advance planning than enthusiasm.
