The bullfighter’s rest | The paper

Along the bank of the Guadalquivir River, a Sevilleuntil a few days ago, wandered around nostalgic Manuel Jesus Salasin Spain celebrated as El Cid, famous bull matador. Moved, he told us, sighing over a cold beer on the corner table of the Triana market: “I finished my career in the arena. When you stop bullying you try to be a normal person, maybe open a shop, but whatever you try to do, the bull keeps bewitching you. I think about bulls all day, I’m lost in that chasm.” The brown eyes of the Cid shone melancholy, “Who knows, maybe one day I’ll go back to the arena”.

That day was not far off, in the Spanish newspapers of these days, headlines announce that El Cid, away from the arenas since 2019, will start fighting again, unsheathing his courage, to add a new page to the history of bullfighting. “I am reminded of the triumph of the Porta Grande in Bilbao, with the fifth bull during a solo fight, the prize tail of the Bayona bull, it had been twenty years since a bullfighter had received this recognition in the arena and then still bullfighting coming from any type of ganaderia, the farms: very bad Miura, agile Garcigrande, dangerous Victoriano del Rio and massive Juan Pedro Domeq. Being able to triumph, by killing bulls that come from any herd, leads you to become a figure in the toreo, a champion, the most acclaimed matador of the moment, an example for future generations” he recalls excited at the idea of ​​returning.

The nostalgia of bullfighting does not affect only Manuel. In December, bulls are not scaryat least to matadors who don’t compete in South American arenas. European bullfighters live suspended between the illusion of the fair and the will to fight. In Seville, the warm rays of the last autumn sun illuminate the Alcazar, the Royal Palace, and the north wind accompanies, along the avenues dotted with orange trees, Lea Vicens, the beautiful bullfighter on horseback, Rojeaneador in slang, originally from Nimes, a French city known for its imposing Roman arena and the mulete tradition. Lea faces bulls, in bullfights on horseback, riding beautiful thoroughbreds. Unlike the traditional bullfight which includes: matadors, picadores, banderilleros, Lea Vicens fights alone by mounting an energetic steed.

Torera or bullfighter, we ask? Lea Vicens, considered the greatest bullfighter on horseback, hates pink. She arrives on time for the appointment, wearing a tight white sweater on her steely physique. “Being a woman is no different in the world of bullfighters, everyone respects me, recognizes the sacrifices of my work. Between us, training is the same, for boys and girls” she answers confidently. To drink, among the lights of the Andalusian market of Triana, under the Pata Negra hams hanging in a row, she orders only sparkling water, “Between men and women, fatigue does not change, we bullfighters are the same. There are no genders here, we all think of only one thing, always: the bull that charges at us, raising clouds of sand between its hooves”.

From October to March, when she can catch her breath for the end of the bullfighting season in Europe, Lea Vicens trains bullfighters, rests, eases the pressure, but does not forget her obsession. She trains with steeds, three or four years of school, accustomed to speed, because bullfighting bulls on horseback gallop formidable and agile. Lea’s tenacity and determination comes from her studies “I didn’t want to be a bullfighter, I started my university career as a biologist, then at 19 I changed my mind”. University studies are used to structure a thought, organize work, life, develop ideas, “I need biology to understand animals” says Vicens.

Let us now leave the city, in search of the culture of bullfighting and, just fifteen minutes by car from Seville, in the locality of Pueblo del Rio, the expanses of rice fields form the border of the “field” where the ganaderia extends Herederos de Dolores Rufino, historic bull farm. There it operates Daniel Martinez, the ganadero, the owner of the field, has his shirt tucked into his trousers with a leather belt. Martinez, red-faced from the hard work outdoors, raises the cattle for the coming year, the winter, in the ganaderia, he explains to us “It’s the time to brand the bulls, make them reproduce, organize the bullfighters’ training sessions”. Inside the field there is a small arena, used by bullfighters to evaluate the cows, the strongest will be used for reproduction, the bulls, it is said, take the character from the mother and therefore need to be the best.

There are up to one hundred females, chased by bullocks who “mammano”, a wonderful Spanish word to indicate the stage of breastfeeding. They graze among soft hills, fading in the pink light, under the African wind. Tomorrow they will be branded: year of birth, Herederos de Dolores Rufino coat of arms, serial number. It is their identity card, specific to each bull. From now on, the animal will be watched from afar for five long years, and approached only on horseback. “The bull must remain ‘good’, wild, not learn that men on foot are targets to hit” concludes Daniel, with perfect grace.

As evening falls, the road takes us back from Campo Herederos de Dolores Rufino, to the bar in Plaza Cuba, right in the center of Seville, where he drinks coffee Francisco Javier, known as Curro Javier. He’s a banderillero of rank, still slender, thick silver hair. He follows a double faith, bullfighting and the cuadrilla of the matador Miguel Angel Perera, the team to which he belongs. His task in the arena is to drive two banderillas, round pegs seventy centimeters long, wrapped in colored paper, armed with iron spikes, straight into the bull’s back, to slow him down, without taking away his strength and precision. Curro Javier’s job is certainly not a normal job, he has to run towards the bull, jump and with one fluid movement insert the banderilleras into the powerful back of the animal.

Banderilleros live only if they are able to fly over sand, “We train as sprinters in athletics, I do marathons, climbs, high jumps” laughs Curro Javier admits. In the arena he can be recognized by his silver embroidered suit and by the dialogue of glances, without words, which he exchanges with Perera’s cuadrilla. No rest season for him, “I live for the bulls, when there are no bullfights, I travel, I play sports, I try to recover, then I realize that the bullfights will start again soon, I have to keep myself agile, I start over. Thanks to this strict regime, I have achieved my dreams”.

For the bullfighting world, the thought of returning to the arena is always very much alive. The day ends but the bullfighters never set even when they lay down their swords. The sensational return of the Cid is proof of this.