¿Olé?

I never went to a bullfight while I was in Spain, though there were definitely times when I felt like I had to go just because I had been in the country so long and it is just so Spanish.

Not surprisingly, all the Spaniards I ever met weren’t into bullfighting. Not only were they not into it, they thought it was kinda gross. Now I’m not going to jump to any conclusions about this meaning that no Spaniards like bullfighting, because I know that’s not true, but just because it’s so “Spanish” doesn’t mean it’s something you need to see if you’re visiting unless it actually sounds fun/interesting/wonerful, which it doesn’t to me. Looking back now, I am glad I never went just because I thought it was something I had to check off my list. The first thing anyone ever asks me when I say I lived in Spain is “did you run with the bulls???” and I’m totally fine with the fact that I haven’t done that either. I enjoyed my couchsurfing and foie gras in Pamplona much more than getting stabbed by a bull horn while wasted, sleeping in the streets, thank you. Though I will totally eat some rabo de toro any day, especially if it’s  from Meson del Asador in Jerez de la Frontera. So so delicious.

And just in case I had any doubts…

¡Joder!

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