Tomatinolosophia
Trip Start
Feb 26, 2004
1
76
84
Trip End
Nov 16, 2006
Valencia,
Spain
Friday, September 1, 2006
She's always been forthwith with girls with pretty feet."
I continued my efforts to do nothing in Dolores with a sense of commitment and determination that I've rarely known. Highlights of the last month included talking to Pat on Skype, pissing around with my young cousins in the pool, winding up my Dad by overusing the word awesome, and watching my parents have a waterpistol fight.
Al The Seagull did indeed come to visit but failed to leave. We attempted to learn Spanish and went out on the weekends to practice it on the local seņioritas. It was like a practical exam, if your invigilator was a 17 year old loophole wearing a greyhound skirt
01 - The Streets Of Bunol
. It's safe to say I failed.Eventually Al and I said goodbye to my parental units, leaving them to reclaim their sunbeds. We caught a bus up north to Valencia, which we would use as a base while we took part in La Tomatina. Every year in Buņol, a small town just outside of Valecnia, tens of thousands of people arrive to throw tomatos at each other. (Iīm having a Dan Quayle moment...is it tomatos or tomatoes?)
Weīve been partying every night in Valencia and itīs awesome. We hooked up with some Couchsurfers who were in town and partyed with them a couple of nights. Also, our hostel is full of banter heads (mainly Australians) so weīve been getting fucked up every night on cheap beer with some excellent randoms. Some of the lads are total legends, and most of the girls are hot and overflowing with banter. Iīve been having some of the best and most random conversations of my life.
We caught a train out to Bunol on the morning of La Tomatina and made our way to the centre of town where it was already jammers. The small streets were so full of tourists that you could hardly move. Over 30,000 people go to this thing. The locals were prepared; they had covered their walls and windows with a sort of netting to stop any stray tomatos being launched in to their apartments
02 - La Tomatina - Mental
. They also entertained themselves by chucking buckets of water on the tourists and spraying us with hoses. So straight away I was pretty much soaked.What we couldnīt see from our location was the build-up to the beginning. Like something out of a Marx Brothers movie, there is a really high greased up pole with a ham on the top. People fight to be the one to climb up and grab the ham, wrestling each other to the ground and standing on whoever gets in the way. Once someone grabs the ham a cannon goes off and La Tomatina begins. Of course.
We were so cramped and crushed on the street that it was difficult for anyone to squeeze past. It seemed odd then that they would then try to drive several dump trucks down these streets. But they did. And some gay looking people in these trucks then threw out the tomatos to us all waiting below. Once in a while the backs of the trucks opened and a whole heap of tomatos poured out covering the streets.
The Tomato fight went on for an hour and it was absolute carnage. One of the most mental things Iīve ever witnessed. Very very painful at times, but just so awesome. My goggles quickly filled with tomato which stung my eyes, so I ended up not even wearing them
03 - Me and Al at the end of La Tomatina
.Iīd made a t-shirt with a bullseye on it and it turned out pretty sweet. But it didnīt last long in the fight. A group of Spanish lads started a chant, which I assumed translated to something like "Take it off!" and started ripping off everybodyīs tops...including some girls. Soon enough I was stripped and chanting "Ole Ole!" topless with some random punters. The new found wet t-shirts were then used as weapons and thrown full force in peoples faces.
A second cannon signals the end of the fight and everyone is by now covered in a rank tomato juice. Some woman came on a loudspeaker and was saying "Please stop throwing tomatos. Please stop throwing t-shirts. Please stop throwing objects." The streets are flowing red and you could see peoples cameras and shoes floating by. In fact, the majority of backpackers Iīve met since are wearing odd shoes, having picked up what they could find.
Al and I filed back to the station and went back to Valencia to clean up. We queued up for the train and some hot chick picked off bits of dried tomato from my back...it seemed so wrong but felt so right. They werenīt letting people on the train without shirts, so I made a make-shift top out of Alīs bag. They tried to stop me but I did a runner.
All in all the whole thing was fucking class. Itīs inevitable that some time in the next few years itīll turn nasty and a bunch of people will die. Theyīll probably think about cancelling it, but then decide to start regulating it. Iīd say youīll have to buy a ticket and numbers will be limited. So Iīm glad I got to witness it while itīs still a free-for-all. While itīs still fucking mental and the fear of death is high.
