San Fermín Beyond the Bull Run: How to Do It Right

Seven days. That's how long the average visitor spends planning San Fermín, and roughly how long the festival actually lasts — 9th to 14th July, plus the opening chupinazo on the 6th and a mournful close on the 15th. Most people fixate on one thing: the encierro, that 825-metre sprint through the old town that lasts somewhere between two and four minutes. But if the bull run is the only reason you're going, you're missing the actual festival.

San Fermín in Pamplona is genuinely one of the most complete popular festivals in Europe. The encierro matters, but it runs at 8am for eight mornings and takes less time than boiling an egg. The other twenty-three hours of each day are where the real festival lives — and frankly, for most visitors, those hours are the point.

What to Do in Pamplona During San Fermín Besides the Bull Run

The short answer: eat in the txokos, watch the giants parade, get into a peña, stay up until dawn in the Casco Antiguo, and go to the actual bullfights if you want to understand what the week is really about. You do not need to run with the bulls to have the full experience. Many Pamplonans who've attended for decades never have.

Here's the longer version.

The Chupinazo: Start Properly on the 6th

The festival officially opens at noon on 6th July with a rocket fired from the balcony of the Pamplona town hall. If you are not in the Plaza del Ayuntamiento for this, you have started the festival badly. The square fills from about 10am — get there earlier than feels necessary, because by 11am it is genuinely difficult to move. Wear white and red (the uniform is non-negotiable if you want to feel part of it rather than just watching it), and accept that someone will spray you with wine from a bota bag within about thirty seconds of the rocket going off. This is not a problem. It is the tradition.

Do not wear anything you care about. Not the shirt, not the trainers. Chupinazo day clothing goes in a bin bag afterwards.

The Peñas: How the Locals Actually Celebrate

The peñas are the engine of San Fermín. These are the local social clubs — there are around sixteen official ones — and they march through the streets every afternoon with their own brass bands (charanga), playing loud, fast music that you'll have stuck in your head for weeks. They wear their club colours and they are very, very good at partying.

The peñas have their own enclosures near the bullring where members eat, drink, and generally hold court from lunchtime onwards. You won't get into the enclosures without knowing someone, but you absolutely can follow the peñas through the streets, eat near them, and absorb the atmosphere. The afternoon procession of peñas from the old town to the Plaza de Toros is one of the best free spectacles of the whole week.

If you know a local who's a peña member, say yes to every invitation. No caveats.

The Giants and Big-Heads Parade (Gigantes y Cabezudos)

Every morning at 10am during the festival, a procession of giant puppet figures — los gigantes — marches through the old town. There are eight of them, representing kings and queens from different continents, and they've been doing this since the 16th century. The cabezudos (big-heads) that accompany them traditionally chase children with foam clubs, which sounds alarming and is actually delightful.

This is the parade most families with children go to. It's free, it's in the streets, and it's the part of San Fermín that has nothing to do with bulls or alcohol. Worth getting up for even if you were out until 4am.

Eating During San Fermín: Where and What

Food during San Fermín is simultaneously better and more chaotic than you'd expect. The txokos — private Basque gastronomic societies — are where the serious eating happens, but again, you need an invitation. What you can access is excellent.

The old town fills with temporary bars and food stalls, but the quality varies wildly. Skip the obvious tourist-facing operations around Plaza del Castillo — the prices inflate and the food suffers. Instead, head to the smaller streets around Calle Estafeta and Calle Mercaderes. Look for bars doing pintxos (the Navarran/Basque version of tapas, typically on bread) from about 7pm onwards. Jamón, bacalao al pil-pil, and morcilla de Pamplona are the things to order.

The Mercado de Santo Domingo is worth visiting in the morning when it's less chaotic. Alhóndiga market has good produce too. If you want a proper sit-down meal away from the madness, the Ensanche neighbourhood (the 19th-century grid south of the old town) has restaurants that are quieter and often better value. Expect to pay €20–35 per person for a decent three-course menu with wine, as of 2026 — though prices have crept up across the board in recent years.

Patxaran is the local digestif: a sloe-berry liqueur that is sweet, slightly anise-flavoured, and dangerously easy to drink at 11am. Try it at least once. It's usually served on the rocks.

The Bullfights: The Corridas de Toros

Here's the thing nobody says clearly in travel articles: the encierro exists because of the bullfights. The running of the bulls is how the animals get from their corral near the river to the Plaza de Toros, where the corrida happens that evening at 6:30pm. If you've watched the encierro but not the bullfight, you've seen the introduction and skipped the thing it was introducing.

I'm not going to tell you whether to go. It's a serious spectacle with a serious moral dimension, and you should make your own call. What I'll say is that the Plaza de Toros de Pamplona holds around 19,500 people and tickets sell out months in advance. Check the official website (feriadeltoro.com) from January onwards. The sol (sun) seats are cheap but brutal in July heat — €8–15 range. Sombra (shade) seats are significantly more and significantly more comfortable. The atmosphere in the ring, whatever you think of what's happening in it, is unlike anything else in Spain.

The Streets at Night

After the corrida, the evening dissolves into the streets. The Casco Antiguo — particularly Plaza del Castillo, Calle San Nicolás, and the surrounding lanes — becomes one continuous outdoor party from about 10pm until well past dawn. The music is constant: brass bands, DJs in bars, someone always playing something somewhere.

Pace yourself on day one. San Fermín is a week long, and the people who treat every night like a final night are usually a wreck by day three. Eat properly, drink water, and sleep when you can. The festival will not stop without you.

Where to Watch the Encierro If You Don't Run

Most visitors shouldn't run. I mean this practically, not moralistically. The route is 825 metres and the bulls cover it fast. If you don't know the route, if you haven't trained for this specifically, and if you don't speak enough Spanish to understand the safety briefing, you are a hazard to yourself and to everyone around you. Gorings are rare but they happen. Trampling injuries are far more common.

Watching from the barriers is excellent. Sections of the route have wooden fences with gaps — locals call these the vallado — and spectators line up from around 6am for the 8am run. Get there by 6:15am at the latest for a decent spot. The section along Calle Estafeta gives you the longest view. The curve at Curva de Mercaderes is where things get most chaotic and where the best photography happens, but it fills fastest.

The full run is also broadcast live on TVE and streamed online — worth watching the night before you go, so you actually understand what you're looking at.

Practical Logistics: The Stuff Nobody Tells You

Accommodation is the first problem. Pamplona's population is around 200,000 and the city absorbs several hundred thousand extra visitors during San Fermín. Book in early January for July, not April. Prices are three to five times normal rates. If you can't find anything in Pamplona itself, look at Logroño (an hour south by bus), Vitoria-Gasteiz, or even San Sebastián — both are under 90 minutes away — and commute in. It's not ideal but it's a real option people use.

Getting there: Pamplona has a small airport (PNA) with limited international connections. The more practical routes are flying into Bilbao or Madrid and taking the bus or train. ALSA runs coaches from Madrid (around 4–5 hours). The train from Madrid via Castejón de Ebas takes about 3.5 hours. Book all of this in advance — transport fills up too.

Money: Most bars and food stalls accept cards now, but carry some cash. ATM queues during San Fermín are genuinely painful.

Safety: The festival has a serious problem with sexual assault and pickpocketing. The city runs a specific campaign — 'Así no, así no' — targeting harassment. Be aware of your surroundings, look after your group, and report anything to the police posts that are set up throughout the old town.

One more thing: if you're thinking about relocating to Spain more broadly and you're at the early stages of sorting out paperwork — renting somewhere without a Spanish payslip and opening a Spanish bank account as a non-resident are two of the most common sticking points for new arrivals. San Fermín is a good excuse to visit the country first, but the bureaucracy starts the moment you decide to stay.

Timing: Which Days to Come

If you can only come for part of the festival, the 6th (chupinazo) and the 7th (first encierro) give you the opening energy. The 13th and 14th are when locals feel the festival most intensely — there's a bittersweet quality as it approaches the end. The 14th night bleeds into the 15th morning, when everyone gathers in Plaza del Castillo with candles to sing 'Pobre de mí' ('Poor me, the fiesta of San Fermín has ended'). It's genuinely moving, even if you've only been there a couple of days.

Mid-week (9th–11th) is when the crowds thin slightly and the festival becomes more local. If you want a slightly more manageable version of the same thing, those are your days.

San Fermín is loud, chaotic, expensive during the week, and occasionally overwhelming. It's also one of those events that earns every superlative thrown at it. Go once. Go properly.