It was a good thing we got to the bullring an hour ahead of the fights, as we couldn't find our tickets! D and I had to go back to our apartment to get them. I found them in the pocket of the shorts I'd been wearing the day before.
There was a row of protestors across the street from the bullring. D was wearing a tourist T-shirt with a bull on it. He thought it would be funny to pose for pictures in front of the protestors.
We saw the good and the horrible in bullfighting that evening. Sergio Flores was skilful and his performance was brilliant and full of thrills, although the judge did not think it good enough to throw the white handkerchief. Juan Fernandez was exciting to watch but he couldn't get a clean kill.
It turned out quite ugly, and the crowd was booing throughout that fight. When it was all over, Fernandez buried his head in his hands in shame, or perhaps in sorrow for the bull that had to suffer.