La Tomatina!

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In August 2005, Megan and I decided that a girls trip to La Tomatina, the Tomato Throwing Festival in Spain, would be just what we needed. We booked through a tour company to avoid all the hassles and Megan arrived the day before and I arrived that night. By the time I got there, admittedly around 11pm, Megan was trashed. On the plus side, she'd made friends with just about everyone on our tour!

The next day we woke around 7am to ready for the train at 8am. We were staying in Valencia, but the festival is in the tiny town of Bunol, about an hour away by train. When we arrived at this tiny town we weren't quite sure how or where they were going to have a festival that involved 30,000 people. But the locals directed everyone down a pretty steep hill to a tiny square where a statue stood in the middle. Apparently a ham is placed at the top of a greased pole in the middle of the square, but it was so packed by the time we got there at 10am that there was no chance we were getting into the square. The festival kicks off when someone, somehow climbs the greased pole and grabs the ham! Usually around 11am. But we were stuck in one of the side streets that lead into the square with no chance of seeing any of this. And when I say stuck I do mean stuck, I was being squashed by everyone around me and not a single person could move in any direction, I could have sworn I was about to see The Prodigy. I should mention here that Megan and I got split up, we'd come along with about 10ppl in our group and I'd learn later that everyone got split up and paired off. I was with a girl whose name I can't remember anymore. We met 2 old ladies, around 60, who were Spanish and thought they'd come along and watch the festival. They didn't know much about the festival and were completely shocked to find themselves surrounded by people whose tops had been ripped off and who were wearing goggles - they brought umbrellas to keep the sun off, bless.

The pictures speak for themselves. It was carnage. We were knee deep in crushed tomatoes, not a millimetre of me wasn't covered in squashed tomatoes. And whoever said that they use ripe tomatoes and everyone squashes them before they throw, lied. They're hard, they hurt! But most of all when they get in your eyes, the goggles don't necessarily work. But damn it, it was possibly the most fun I've ever had in my life! Highly recommended as long as you don't mind a good mosh pit every now and then. When those dump trucks come through the street carrying 10tonnes of tomatoes each, there isn't actually any room for them - breath in! Although I have to say, everyone was really good. The boys around us formed a human shield around the grannies and protected them for the whole food fight. Ditto all the kids that were there and I saw a couple of girls freak out and everyone made way for them so they could get out of the mosh. The whole ordeal lasted about 4 hrs and by then the streets were rivers of tomato juice. And even though it's actually an offence to continue throwing the tomatoes after the event is finished, there were plenty still wading through the gaspacho, frolicking around and throwing sauce everywhere. The cops just stood to the side and laughed, they're not stupid enough to go in after them.

The train ride back to Valencia was a bit chilly, they wouldn't let us on the train covered in tomato so all the locals got their hoses out and hosed us all down before we got on the train - it's not that warm in October. A hot shower back at the hotel and a couple of jugs of Sangria later and all we could remember was how much fun the day was.

We woke on our last day a little tender and decided a trip to the beach was in order. We dragged and propped each other to the beach and spent the only day on the beach that either of us would see all year. What a way to end the trip...

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