The street

For eight days and a half of the month of July, barely a week, day and night, the street is rescued from mundane order and is given back to its true owners: ordinary men and women of all ages. The fiesta and happiness have no point if they are not transmitted to other people, if people don't join in. Thus, the fiesta ceases to be if ¡t is restricted, limited or reserved for just a privileged few. lt would be impossible to imagine our fiestas without the carrying of our favourite saint, San Fermín on the shoulders through the teeming crowds, without the young people having a go at the representatives of authority in the "Riau-Riau", without the Peñas taking over the streets without any respite other than the brief stop to refuel in a handy bar, without the young and old laughing, shouting and jumping about in front of the kilíkis, without the spectacle of exhausted bodies stretched out on the ground, ignoring signs of "Don't walk on the grass", without the single or multiple drums shattering the silence of the night, without the pipes vibrating in the air still under the shock of so much noise, without the bodies -nearly all the year too tired or lazy to enjoy themselves- dancing on and on, without the dianas forcing open tired eyes at dawn, without the rockets bringing speed to the feet of the brave runners of the encierro, without the fireworks which light up the dark against its will to the accompaniment of the confident "oohs" and "aahs" of a thousand voices, without..., ¡t would be impossible to imagine the Sanfermines, the fiestas of the street, the street enjoying itself. 

The street, ¡t ¡s clear, is the natural home of the fiestas. Although for some, the time has come to do business and transform parts of the city into a colourful market for almost any kind of product. In the Paseo de Sarasate, in the Bosquecillo or in the Recoletas square ¡t is possible to have your portrait sketched, drink champagne, buy sandwiches, neck-scarves, sweets, craft products of all kinds, cowboy hats and enormous Mexican sombreros, balloons, pens, sunglasses, water pistols, blowers, trinkets, T-shirts, nuts, garlic, ice creams, etc. Does anyone give more? And all around, taking up every available space, without leaving any islands of tranquillity, bands, musicians, and processions continually passing through the streets, surrounded by a dancing crowd who happily follow them wherever they lead.

These are the fiestas of San Fermín, open to all, joy to all men of goodwill.