"You wanna go to Pamplona?" "I'm meeting up with some Australian friends there." It was 1973 and I was hoping to somehow make it to Pamplona to see the Running of the Bulls. The American boy stationed at the Naval Base in Rota was a friend of a friend, someone I really didn't know very well. He was going to be driving to Pamplona as part of some grand tour of Spain and France he had planned. "I can give you a lift." That poor guy with the big grin probably never thought that he'd come to regret his generous offer. "I'll stay with my friends. They're camping. And they'll bring me back to Cadiz." "Great! After Pamplona, I'm going over the border to France." Sounded like a plan! When the American boy and I arrived in Pamplona people were sleeping on the streets, the bars were full and there was a general air of party time gone wild. We climbed over people and looked for the places that became so famous be...
A Memoir of Spain during the 70s and 80s.