Bodegas & Bullfights
After seeing the impressive La Alhambra, Spud decided to take in a few more sites of Southern Spain, before returning to Canada. The Spaniards are reknowned for their wines, so one stop that was high on his list was visiting one of the Andalusian bodegas in Jerez de la Fronterra.
The tater dropped in on the House of Sandeman, a winery famous for its Sherry which has been made for over 7 generations. The tuber received a tour of the estate to experience the process involved in making their famed 20 year old Amontillado.
The hot Mediterranean
sun beat down on the potato as he walked through the acres of vineyards,
and Spud began to feel symptoms of heat exhaustion and deyhdration. Fortunately,
the tour made it to the cask cellar where the cool temperature of the
dark room was a welcome relief. As the tour continued, Spud stayed back
to recover a little longer.
Shortly after he was unceremoniously escorted out of the bodega, Spud was in the back of a taxi enroute to the town of Ronda, one of Spain's oldest, having been first inhabited over 3000 years ago. Ronda is known as the birthplace of the corrida (bullfighting) and boasts the Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestrana de España, Spain's oldest bullfighting ring which was built in 1785.
Spud had been invited by the local operators to participate in a fight alongside some of the Country's finest matadors. Always one willing to immerse himself in the traditions and culture of foreign nations, he humbly agreed, although secretly, he didn't relish the idea of being skewered on the end of a horn like a shishkebab.
As he was led toward the ring, the potato passed by the corral which housed a herd of bulls with severe anger management issues. The stench that eminated from the beasts' 'by-products' was nearing lethal levels. Spud realized he'd not experienced so much BS since he watched the last Presidential debate on television.
Upon reaching the center of the ring, Spud was met by one of the judges who held out some incredibly gaudy clothing to the tater and asked him to put them on. Spud took one look at the (2 sizes too small) bright blue & pink satin half-jacket, turquoise crushed velvet shoes and a black velveteen hat moulded to look like someone sat on a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. Well tradition or not, there was absolutely no way a self-respecting potato was going to be seen in public wearing that outfit. Shaking his head in disbelief, Spud walked away, deciding to watch the event from the stands instead.
Its no wonder the bulls rarely win the bullfights. They're far too busy laughing at the ridiculous outfits to pay attention to what's happening. At least the toros can avenge their fallen comrades when they exact their revenge in Pamplona during 'the running of the bulls'.