Behold The Death Dance

Will the bullfight, a spectacle deeply entrenched in Spanish culture, be a blood sport that time will erase? Rathina Sankari ponders from the sidelines

- Rathina Sankari

"Do you know the three religions of Spain?” enquires my guide Luke during a walking tour in Madrid. Before I could take a wild guess, he quips: “It’s soccer, ham and the Catholic church, in that order.” While the Iberian ham is indeed drool-worthy, my interests lie elsewhere: Spanish history, food, flamenco and bullfights – not necessarily in that order.

They were exactly the reasons for me to zero in on Spain as the destination of our family vacation. My eight-year-old daughter and 13-year-old son are oblivious of the itinerary, and the thrill and excitement of their maiden Europe trip is the crucial calling card of this journey. Besides gorging on Spanish delights – paella, churros, hot chocolate and ham – we also visit Barcelona for Gaudi’s work and to take a tour of Camp Nou, the home ground of FC Barcelona. In Granada, we hike to the hills of Sacromonte to watch the scintillating, feet tapping flamenco in cave restaurants. While these excursions are lessons in history, culture and architecture, I long to watch Spain’s famous bullfights.

I have to admit though: I was ignorant about the tragic end of Spanish bullfights until I watched the 2018 Oscar-nominated animation movie Ferdinand – which I felt was a good introduction to the topic for the kids. So, on our flight from India to the Iberian Peninsula, they were glued to the in-flight entertainment, watching the ginormous but completely adorable bull with rippling muscles and huge, gentle blue eyes. Fast-forward one week and my son makes up his mind as we soak in the dizzying beauty of Seville: He doesn’t want to watch Spain’s ritual in the flesh.