After Barcelona, we originally planned to make our way to Pamplona. How often do you find yourself in Spain when the annual San Fermines is happening only hours away?
But the day before we were supposed to go, I let myself reconsider. The doubt had been there all along, but the idea of it all was too tempting. How could we not witness, nay experience, running with the bulls?
But, in fact, I liked the idea of participating more than the reality of it. Thousands of (drunk) people gathered for a 3-minute run-for-your-life race that starts at 8 a.m.? Lo siento. I’ll pass.
That left us with a dilemma. Where do we go next? A good dilemma to have.
Opened up our trusty guidebook, looked at the map and decided that Switzerland was calling our name. And in the name of spontaneity, why not add Germany in there as well?