Dear Daily Princetonian

Editor's Note: This is the fourth in a series of postcards that Daily Princetonian sports staff writers wrote about their experiences in the wide world of sports this summer. Keep reading throughout the next few weeks for more dispatches from across the country and around the world.

PAMPLONA, Spain — I'm not saying Hemingway got it all wrong — this certainly is the place to be. I just think he glossed over a few things. Forget about what you read in 'The Sun Also Rises.' This is Pamplona, Behind the Scenes.

This July, I was lucky enough to be in Pamplona during the Festival of San Fermin — the excuse for the Running of the Bulls. Every year, this city of 100,000 residents explodes to 1.5 million people for one week. The first, second and only goal for 99.9 percent of these people isn't to watch the pretty bull knock the nice man down. No, it's to drink — and to drink a lot.

The bender lasts a week: morning, noon, night and all the times in between. Think Freshman Week, Bicker, Lawnparties and Alumni Weekend all rolled into one big berfest of drunken, diabolical delight. Underage, middle age and overage all coexisting harmoniously together. Bands, concerts, parades and dancers on every block.

But don't just take my word for it. On a recent episode of "E! Wild on Tara," Ms. Reid herself said, "I've never seen so much drinking in my life." If you can't trust me, trust Little Miss Party Girl herself.

But enough about booze — let's talk about the bulls. What can I say that you don't already know? They're big, mean and scary.

In preparation for my encounter with los toros, I watched several past Runnings on television with my host mother, Isabel. One person after another was trampled or gored by these 400-plus pound beasts with horns so long they can skewer three or four people like shish kabobs. When it was over, Isabel turned to me and remarked casually, "Limpio. Pretty clean. Only one kill, and he was a foreigner anyway. Only the foreigners get hurt. Never the Spaniards."

And for a good reason, too. Some of the Spaniards have trained and run annually for the past 50 years. Most of the foreigners, on the other hand, are drunk and looking for a thrill. The ones who are killed are the ones who break the Cardinal Rule of Running: If you fall down, stay down. Better to be trampled and break a limb than to get up, get gored and never get up again.

In the end, I decided not to run. After weighing the pros and cons, I realized that the odds of my surviving were rather low. I'm just tall enough to be noticeable, but short enough that the bulls' horns would get me in the chest, not the waist. And that would be bad.

All I had going for me was that bulls' eyesight is notoriously bad and that I can speak Spanish, which meant I might have fooled the bulls into thinking I was a native. On the other hand, there aren't a lot of Asian runners, and the bulls might consider us a delicacy. We might be their favorite dish, and, who knows, maybe Koreans are the filet mignon of the Asians.

But all joking aside, Pamplona truly is a singular and wonderful experience that people come from all over the globe to share together. It sounds sappy, but there's a genuine smile on everyone's face, a real desire to meet and get to know you. Whatever your politics, race or religion, no matter what you look like, where you're from or what language you speak, there's always room to pull up a chair for one more person in Pamplona — and don't even think about paying for the drinks.

Joy wasn't the only thing in the air this year, however. Four days after the start of San Fermin, the London bombings shocked and frightened the world. Memories of September 11, 2001 and the Madrid train bombings on March 11, 2004 jumped to the front of everyone in Pamplona's mind. But the Festival went on, ending on July 14, just as it was supposed to. Some might construe the decision to continue as inconsiderate, even callous, but I find it to be just the opposite.

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The runners in Pamplona face fear and meet it head on. The bulls may knock a few of them down, but it won't stop them from running. And fear won't stop the rest of us either.