Bull fighting in Madrid - Sport or ordeal?

A vacation to Spain can throw open a plethora of must-do-activities for you, visiting iconic monuments like Alhambra and the famous Roman-Catholic Church The La Sagrada Familia, experiencing the rich cultural heritage of the country, seeing the sun-kissed beaches, tasting the divine ‘Sangria’, making a trip to the football hubs of Real Madrid and FC Barcelona, spending one full day at the crazily adventurous La Aventura amusement park, watching a show of the mesmerizing Flamenco dance and last but not the least going to the bullring in Madrid.

While planning our vacation to Spain, this last bit about the bull fight was just one of the many attractions that featured in our itinerary. I was really excited about watching the flamenco show in Seville while my boys had set their hearts on going to the bullfight in Madrid. But the fact that I chose to write about this ‘sport’ over anything else should say something about the profound effect it had on me!

We had designated a half day to this ‘sightseeing’ and made an online reservation well in advance. There are very few countries in the world that permit bull fighting, Spain being one of the frontrunner in this sport, there was no way that we would miss such an outing, especially with our two grown up boys around who were desperate to see some real gore-and-blood sport. You know how boys are!

Entrance to the Bullfight Arena, Madrid - Plaza de Toros

The venue for bullfighting is the bull ring in Madrid ‘Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas’ or ‘Las Ventas’ as it is popularly known.

We reached quite on time and were surprised to see hordes of people flocking near the gate of the arena waiting to enter. There were very few tourists to be seen, most of them appeared to be locals. One can always make out tourists from the local people by the lost look of anticipation on former’s faces. Local people have an air of familiarity around them with their surroundings.

Finally, the gates opened and we were thrilled to get seats with a front view of the entrance where all the action was going to take place. The huge arena started to fill up with thousands of people literally pouring in. The bullring in Madrid has a seating capacity of 25,000 people and in no time we were scrambling for our seats. 

The Arena, full to the brim!

The interesting part is that all kinds of people could be seen. We had a young Spaniard sitting on our right who looked like some school teacher to me, calm demeanour and casually sipping on his drink. An elderly couple, sounding more like Brits on a tour of Spain, also waiting for the show to begin. In the front row was a group of middle aged men who appeared to have come straight out of some cowboy movie of the 70’s with all of them donning hats, smoking cigars and wearing tight-waisted jackets.

The colorful 'Entourage' entering the arena
..........amidst cheers from the crowd!

The stage is now set for the act to unfold. The performance begins by a sort of an ‘entourage’ entering the arena comprising of horsemen, a Matador conspicuously attired and holding a magenta and gold cape who appears to be the leader of the group. They go around the arena in a circle as if to acknowledge the guests or maybe inspect the arena.

I get busy clicking pictures and making videos of the act. We are so excited to be a part of this traditional ritual of Spain. There is a sound of the bugle and there we have a bull running into the ring. The matador is perhaps trying to gauge the ferocity of the bull, he waves the cape towards him and runs around to create some drama!

The bull charging at the cape swung by the matador

The colorful elaborate costumes, the energy and agility of the matador combined with his prowess in handling the bull and his effortless yet careful demeanor on the ground is enthralling. There is a lot of hooting and cheering all around. No wonder these matadors are so popular in this part of the world. They are nothing short of movie stars and enjoy a huge fan following.

It appears as if there is a sudden rush of adrenaline in the arena. We also cheer on and wait in anticipation for what comes next. In a split second, the matador turns away and the man on horseback or ‘Picador’ comes up from behind the bull and stabs a barbed stick viciously in the neck of the bull. The sudden spurt of blood from the fresh wound on the neck of the bull is unnerving and my camera falls from my hands into my lap.

The bull weakened by the constant stabbing looks 

around haplessly for help that doesn't seem to come!

There are 3 banderilleros on the ground and each one tries to stab the bull with their barbed sticks in its shoulder. They are trying to agitate the bull and also weaken it. The sight is so ghastly that I’ve lost my interest already just 15 minutes into the show. The man on horseback stabs again with his lance and is able to injure the bull one more time. Call it sheer ignorance but nothing could’ve prepared me for such violence. In the meantime the matador is trying to put on a display for the cheering crowds. I can’t deny that he was incredibly graceful with his movements and manoeuvres with the cape. He goes around the bull and tries to stab it with his own banderilla.

The movements are fake and are done only to create a theatrical effect but the blood and the wounds on the bull’s back are real, I tell myself. I brace myself to see what’s more to come. The bull is getting angrier by the moment and the crowd is going into a frenzy shouting slogans like ‘mata…lo..mata lo’ meaning kill it in Spanish as we later learnt. The cow-boy look-alikes sitting in our front row are in their full element. They are shouting and jeering. I look at the teacher-like guy sitting next to us who looked so quiet earlier now looks possessed by something. He’s shouting at the top of his voice. As if in response to these demands by the crowd, the matador suddenly turns and with a sharp twist of the sword pierces the bull’s heart and kills it. There is an uproar of approval in the arena all around. The scene is so gory that I cringe and look away. When I look up I’m shocked to see people standing and cheering in the stands and waving white handkerchiefs in appreciation of the matador’s feat. Later we learnt that the white handkerchief is waved to urge the presiding chief to award the matador with an ear of the dead bull as a souvenir.

We all look at each other and my sons who were so eager to come for this spectacle look equally perturbed. The first thought that crosses my mind looking at them is ‘God I’m really grateful’. Seeing my children behave like maniacs in the face of such violence along with the other thousands of people would’ve broken my heart. My younger son looks at me imploring me to leave.  As we nudge each other to get up thinking that this is the end of that day’s event, we discover that there’s more to come. Another bull enters the arena and the drill is repeated all over again. Then yet again and again and again. This drill is repeated five times over, five bulls are killed and the ‘revelry’ in the ring is like nothing I have ever seen before.

We just want to get out of this madness but there are people everywhere with not an inch of space to move. So, we wait for this ‘sporty’ ordeal to finally get over.

Did we like the sport? Was it a sport at all? Five armed men on foot and on horseback trying to overpower a bull not just by force but by deception. The spurt of blood oozing out of the necks of those innocent animals who can feel the pain but have no words to express it. If we believe that animals too have souls and that they can relate to love and emotions as well, then I’m sure the poor hapless bull could very well relate to the 25,000 odd people jeering at it and rejoicing in its death. Can anything be more inhuman than this?