What happened after that is anyone’s guess, but I did wake up on a stretcher while being carried to an ambulance. It was quite surreal, and from there I was taken to the hospital, had some X-rays done, and generally wallowed in my misery.
From there I got my backpack, a cheap hat to cover my wounds, and got the hell out of Pamplona. I headed to the bus station and got on the first one going anywhere but there. I remember trying to eat a piece of pizza at the bus station but my jaw was so sore I couldn’t chew and had to throw the damn thing away.
That night saw me 70 km north, in the city of Villabona. I got a room for €40 or some ungodly sum, but I just wanted to lay down and feel sorry for myself. This wonderful place had the windows sealed shut so it was completely dark in the room. I stayed there until morning and then got a bus to Balboa, then a train to Madrid. I hung out in a cheap hostel in the capital for a few days until I was just about healed, then continued my travels of the continent.
I sure hope those folks running with the bulls over the next two weeks will have great memories. I might head back there one day to get a complete run in. We’ll see.