It’s the second all-nighter I’ve spent walking the streets of this non-stop, week-long fiesta.  The pulsating, packed streets of of Pamplona never stop dancing.  With marching bands, street entertainers, a circus, music in every bar and concerts in every plaza, there is always something stimulating happening.

Yesterday evening a couple friends and I watched the bull fights (photos to come).  The savage beauty of this event is hard to express.  It brings into such sharp focus the difference between man and animal and the delicate line between life and death.  As the calm torero gradually goads the life out of the instinctual animal, the man triumphs and in one swift movement buries the sword between the bull’s shoulder blades.

After six bulls were killed (and one torero was wounded – photos here), I took a short nap and stayed out all night.  This morning I watched the bull run from an excellent balcony (Estafeta 23) while enjoying some coffee and churros.  Little did I know when I watched the bulls run below us that a young man was killed just around the bend at the end of calle Estafeta.

As I walked home we were joking about the long night’s festivities, the people we had met, the surreal atmosphere.  I fell asleep immediately back in my apartment, only to be awakened by a phone call from my co-worker at BullRunning.com – a death had occurred! A man from Madrid, hit by a bull’s horn in the soft place above his left collar bone.

So, here I am, updating the website and Twitter and wondering how to balance the fun and tragedy that are a part of this event.  Like the bull fights last night, the joy of life and the nearness of death are never closer than at the festival of San Fermin.