La Tomatina

It began as a street fight during a town parade in 1945, where people picked tomatoes off of street stands to aid their battle. It happened again the next year, in a less violent way, and ignoring brief interludes, has continued to this day, representing one of the only Spanish traditions that does not have a religious connotation.

We began at 5:30 am, eager but stressed to get to the first metro train at 6:20 so we could take the first regional train from Valencia to Buñol at 7 am. Needless to say, with an expected attendance of 20,000 people, most of whom were staying in Valencia, the trains were pretty crowded. Luckily, Michael and I were able to find seats for the 45 minute train trip, so we got to prepare mentally and physically for the event ahead.

We arrived in Buñol at around 8 am and proceeded through the ancient-looking Spanish village down to the site of the event around which I have planned my summer: La Tomatina. Most people were already drunk by this time, which I will remind you, was 8 in the morning. Michael and I proceeded to the Designated Drivers Rockin' Fun Zone, which was an area the size of the sidewalk where Michael and I stood. Basically, we were some of the only sober people there. But when you're in Europe surrounded by Australians and under-21 Americans, you can only expect a certain degree of drunkenness.

With anticipation and a lingering scent of beer and sangria hanging in the air, the first event began: The Greased Up Ham Pole. Spaniards and tourists (mostly tourists) literally fight each other up a wooden pole covered in lard to release a ham that has been tied to the top. Obviously the attempts during the first hour and a half are unsuccessful, because everyone is pulling and kicking each other down, trying to earn the drunken respect of the audience. When I say kicking, I mean literally, men would kick girls in the face, even using said faces as stepladders. Also the pole is absolutely slathered in lard, and it has to be removed before further attempts can be made. When guys (inevitably guys) reach the lard, they toss it into the crowd. I got some on my shoulder! Awesome!

Not my Tomatina (I didn't have a camera), but you get the idea.

As the sun rose over Buñol, Michael and I decided to seek out some of the water vendors we saw on the way there. Leaving the crowd was harder than it should have been, as Australians wouldn't let non-Aussies through, so we had to forge terrible accents in order to get out. With the water purchased and the tomato time drawing near, we headed back to the street, although not for the same position as before. We had been standing in perhaps the best spot, which meant it was crowded, hot, smelly, and possibly dangerous for a person of my stature. With that in mind, we chose a location just off the street with excellent tomato access, but also with more room.

And then the cannon burst, signaling the initiation of La Tomatina. The crowd descended into a kind of controlled soccer riot, and my vision was gradually obscured by a fine, red mist and small, ovular missiles. Everything was an amazing chaos. Dump trucks came down the street and forced people to the sidewalks. The trucks were full of 20 young Spaniards hurling about 130 tons of red tomatoes at bystanders. And the "bystanders" would pick them up and hurl them right back. Everyone gradually turned into what looked like pizza sauce, but drunker. The trucks drove through again and again, and that meant more and more fun. I hit a guy in the mouth. Michael hit a girl square in the eye. I got hit in the face 4 times, and I loved it.

And I think the locals enjoyed it, too. When the second cannon was fired, signalling the end of the tomato fight, people came out of their houses with hoses, spraying down the tourists. Throughout the entire event locals dumped buckets of water on the crowds, attempting to keep them cool. At one point I was targeted by a bunch of Australian boys with access to buckets and fountains, and I ended up getting soaked through, but it was perfect.

La Tomatina was the most crazy, amazing, exciting thing I have ever done. If every day of my trip was awful, it would have been worth it to come to Europe because of La Tomatina. I am so pleased that I was able to fit it back into my schedule, because I have never experienced anything quite like it. Seeing so many happy young people completely covered in tomato pulp, from hair to shoes, was elating. And seriously, it's a giant, free food fight in the streets of a beautiful Spanish city, attended by creative twenty-somethings in fun costumes. How could I not have loved it?



PS. Did I mention that I too, became covered in tomato pulp? Even though I took about 5 hose showers, I was not Tomato-Free enough to board the train back to Valencia. I had to take another shower outside the train station. And I took another shower when I got back to the hotel. And I still smell like a caprese salad, minus all the non-tomato ingredients. When I touch my skin and hair, it feels like a tomato. In fact, with all the Spanish sun I've been getting, I may even LOOK like a tomato. Please don't eat me :(

Not Plain Spain

I had an entire blog written out about my experience in Granada, and right when I hit "publish post" the internet died. So it goes. I will still give you the abbreviated version, but with more cats included.

Granada was the best place to go to after my negative experience in Madrid. It was clean, organized, smallish, with many touristy things to do. The hostel was also great; it was run and populated by young, active people, and set in a central location to the all the attractions and nearby local supermarkets. The hostel offered everything we could have wanted: tasty, traditional Spanish dinners for 4 euro, an exclusive hot springs tour, a communal kitchen, free internet, and they do your laundry for you for a low price. We met a ton of people there, all Canadian and Australian, and I may see one of the Australian girls when she comes to San Francisco next year. Meeting people is certainly one of my favorite parts of traveling.

As for Granada itself, it is a truly Spanish city. People take their siestas and Sundays very seriously - the only things open during these times were the touristy souvenir shops, and even some of them were closed. It also has a history of Moorish influence, making it the first place I've been to with an Arabic style. We never made it to the Alhambra (no lectures please), but we did do the local hot springs tour, and it was worth every cent! Someone from the hostel drove us out about 12 km to a little pool in a dark field. At first we assumed we were going to be murdered a la Hostel, but we just ended up relaxing in a perfectly temperatured little pool. A lot of locals with their with their children and dogs, and for the first time in weeks, I saw the sky full of stars. It was awesome. On the ride over I was asking our driver (in Spanish!) if certain animals lived in the area, but he said it was only rabbits. And scorpions. But I think he was kidding about the scorpions.

We had a feline-filled experience in Granada, which of coursed served to enhance it. When Michael and I took our own little walking tour (we didn't wake up in time for the organized one) we saw the most adorable pile of kittens sitting between a small creek and an ancient wall. It was quite picturesque. At night there was a very stereotypical prowl of cats meowing at every door on the street, possibly begging for food or just being ridiculous cats. They seemed fat enough, so maybe I should assume they were just out causing trouble because they can.

After 12 hours of train travel, Michael and I have arrived in Valencia, Spain, the epicenter of our summer. In 2 days we will go to Bunyol for the famous Tomatina Festival. It is amazing how many people I've met this summer who are in this city right now. It's like some sort of pilgrimage for college-student-aged individuals. We are staying in a 3 star hotel, the nicest thing I have encountered all summer. The upside is the severe spike in quality, however at hostels you get to meet people and do stuff with them. Luckily, since Valencia is full of people just like us, we have already met a nice New Zealander named Patrick who is traveling alone and will come with us to the Tomatina to hurl tomatoes with us.

We will take the next day to rest. Our hotel has English channels. Right now we are watching Tom and Jerry, which is awesome because there are no words so it works everywhere. After Valencia we will head to Barcelona for 5 hours, then take a night train to Geneva, from which we will immediately leave to Interlaken for 3 days of extreme sportage. We are considering the option of canyoneering, or climbing and rappelling down waterfalls! It is either this or hangliding/parajumping/skydiving/bungee jumping. We will also hike a lot. Huzzah for traveling!

In apology for being scant with my pictures, here is a photo I took in the main Cathedral in Granada (the only other thing open) yesterday.

UPDATE!

Good news everybody! It looks like I will be able to go to La Tomatina after all! After a few hours of searching the internet for inexpensive lodging I found it! It's a 3 star hotel in Valencia that will cost about $23 a night! That is less than I am paying for other hostels and dorm rooms! The price is half off of what it normally is, so I still feel like I am somehow being scammed, but let's hope not. The point is, I get to spend a few hours of my summer throwing tomatoes at strangers.

The streets will run red with the blood of Solanum lycopersicum

Due to the nature of the event, I highly doubt I will be able to snap photos :( so sad

OH! Also I may (not confirmed) be going with my sister, her boyfriend, and their friend, which would be pretty cool. We could all stay at the scarily cheap hotel! And then throw tomatoes at one another.