Read the first chapter of Inner Journey here:

I was in Pamplona for San Fermin, a festival celebrated by the Spanish people for the patron saint of Pamplona and famous for the running of the bulls. I had been in Pamplona for some five days or so. I was actually on holidays from a teaching position I held in London. After five nights of enjoying the festivities I decided to have a relatively quiet night in comparison, as it was my intention to leave in the next few days and spend a few days lying on the beach in San Sebastian — a nearby town on the coast. I was with Neil, a work colleague who I had met up with some days prior, and we spent the night walking around the streets, taking in the atmosphere. The Spanish really did know how to have a good time as they danced in the street while brass bands were playing. After a week there weren’t as many people as there had been earlier, when thousands of people had crammed the cobb- le-stoned streets, dressed in white with a red scarf, wearing the traditional colours of San Fermin. The bars had been overflowing with people, usually intoxicated after drinking the local sangria. Each day the tradition of running with the bulls had taken place, with hundreds of men running through the narrow streets, being chased by the bulls into the stadium. I had been the previous year with some other friends that I had travelled through Portugal and Spain with. I had experienced the rush of being chased by ten bulls through the streets, while people cheered or shook their heads, wondering why we would be crazy enough to do such a thing. They say that it is supposed to be a test of your manhood in Spanish culture to run with the bulls, so I’m not sure where that leaves me as I was definitely running from the bulls.

I had had such a good time the previous year that it didn’t take too much convincing to come back again. I had already been away from Australia on a world trip for just over a year after travelling through America, the Cayman Islands, Canada and parts of southern Europe. I was having a great time away and was glad that I had achieved my dream of travelling the world. As I continued to walk around the streets with Neil we came across a couple of Spanish girls with whom we shared an apartment. We stopped and had a brief chat with them in Spanish, and organized to meet up with them later. The festival had given me the chance to use the Spanish I had studied while I was living in London. It was a great experience to be able to communicate with the Spanish people and gain an insight into their culture, even though my Spanish was admittedly limited.

As a result of speaking a lot of Spanish I was noticing that I was feeling quite tired mentally. I had also noticed over the time that I had spent at the festival that my thought processes had sped up from time to time. I remember as I was talking to Neil that I felt like getting away and that relaxing for a few days in San Sebastian would be a good idea. After talking to the girls, Neil and I decided we were going to head up to the mussel bar, which was a place where a number of Australians and New Zealanders met during the festival. As we were walking through the streets I recall feeling quite faint. I was having a general conversation with Neil about my trip and what I was planning on doing in the future. As I was talking, I once again noticed that my thought processes had begun to speed up. I explained to Neil that something was happening to me and that I would need to sit down. Neil said he would get me a glass of water from one of the bars along the street and I waited on a small fence on the side of the road. I continued to feel light-headed. Neil returned with a glass of water and I had a sip of the water and tried to get my thoughts together.

After five minutes or so I got off the fence and once again felt faint. The next thing that occurred was that my legs buckled under me and I collapsed, falling to the ground. I think I blacked out briefly, but found that upon regaining consciousness my thoughts were still racing. My thoughts were not unlike a tape recorder being sped up. By this time Neil had run off to call an ambulance. I remember finding it hard to gain control of my thoughts as I was beginning to panic, wondering what was happening to me. There were people gathered around where I had collapsed and I remember a Spanish girl speaking to me and holding my hand to comfort me. My body felt completely lifeless as I was lying on the side of the road, and by this point I felt I was going to die. I began praying that I wouldn’t die and I felt as though I was fighting for my life — my thoughts were still racing and disordered. I couldn’t move as my body felt like it was floating. I continued to pray in my mind, calling out for help and that I didn’t want to die. It was after another minute or so that I felt volts of energy charge through my body and from lying on the ground feeling completely lifeless I was thrown into the air and onto my feet.

I was amazed to find myself back on my feet, but I noticed that my thoughts were still racing as I was trying to compose myself. I saw the ambulance that Neil had called and thought that it would be wise to go to the hospital. I got into the back of the ambulance when two paramedics yelled “tranquilo” (“calm down”); I must have shown them that I was startled by what had just happened. I rode in the back of the ambulance, still trying to gain control of my thoughts. I found that my thoughts had become disconnected and I had the perception of hearing voices. I was becoming restless as I found myself experiencing what was later described to me as a psychotic episode.

I became very paranoid as I arrived at the hospital...