Let me first just say that I am a big fan of Earnest Hemingway, which is how I first heard about the San Fermin festival and the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain.

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of running down a crowded street while being chased by a small herd of rather agitated bulls. In a little over a week, I plan to celebrate my 63rd birthday by doing just that.

Now some of you may thinks that’s crazy – my kids definitely do, and so do a lot of my friends. And some of you may think it’s cruel and inhumane. I have other friends who feel the same. But the only cruelty being perpetrated during the actual run is the cruelty being inflicted on the 40 to 50 participants who get gored every year, although I guess you can say they have it coming. Certainly if I get gored during the run, I won’t blame it on the bull, rather on my own stupidity.

The real cruelty happens in the bullring afterwards. And let me state unequivocally that I am absolutely against bullfighting and I have no intention of watching a bullfight while I am there.

So how do I justify taking part in the running of the bulls while at the same time being dead against bull fighting? That’s a very good question and one I have been debating with myself for weeks.

I could argue that they are two totally separate events taking place during the same festival. You could quite easily have the running of the bulls without the bull-fighting. They have the same type of event on Teiceira in the Azores where a bull is tethered to four or five handlers by a long rope and allowed to charge at anyone crazy enough to participate. As the bull gets close to the person, it’s reined in at the last second by the handlers. The bulls never get hurt, but the participants sometimes do.

The San Fermin Festival and the running of the bulls is over 700 years old. I guess I could always wait until August and go to the town of Bunol, Spain where they celebrate La Tomatina during which thousands of people pelt each other with tomatoes. I guess that’s fine if you like tomatoes – not so much if you don’t.

Should I survive the running of the bulls, or in my case the walking with the bulls, I plan to go to Barcelona, which I hear is very beautiful city.

I had hoped to go to Barcelona in 1992 for the Olympic Games, but my financial situation at the time ruled it out. More recently, I wanted to go to the city to visit my old friend Jango Edwards who was one of the most influential clowns of his time, but unfortunately he passed away last August.

From Barcelona, I will head to Amsterdam to visit some friends before going to Boom, Belgium for Tomorrowland, which is the largest electronic dance music festival in the world.

This will be my third Tomorrowland Festival and something I’ve been looking forward to for the past 12 month. I’m part of a group of 12 EDM enthusiasts who hail from Germany, Switzerland and Calgary.

We all camp together and have an amazing time over five days and four nights. The group’s ringleaders are Kamil and William who live in Basel and Geneva respectively. I’m the old guy and head bartender.

If I survive the running of the bulls and five days at Tomorrowland, I plan to go back to Amsterdam to rest a few days and figure out where to go from there.

I’ve narrowed the list down to Italy, Portugal, Germany or Greece. I might have to rule Italy out just because it’s so expensive. Portugal is a contender because it’s relatively inexpensive and I’ve never been.

Germany is on the list because I have friends in Hamburg, Berlin, Frieburg and Munich, but I’m not sure it’s the best place to go in mid-July and there are no beaches.

I went to the Greek islands of Milos and Paros last summer and it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

In February, I met a guy named Anthony in Puerto Escondido. He runs an ATV safari company with his father on the island of Crete and apparently his father and I would get along famously.

If I go to Crete, I could stop in Istanbul first, if my Aeroplan covers it. I’ve always had a keen interest about the city on the Bosphorus and it’s sort of on the way to Crete.

I likely won’t make my final decision until I’m over there and even then it will probably be a last-minute thing. That’s another advantage to traveling alone. You never have to make plans. You can just go wherever the wind – or your Aeroplan points – take you.

(If you wish to comment on this or any other View Point column please write to Fred Sherwin at fsherwin@orleansstar.ca)