After a most relaxing week in Cinque Terre and the French Riviera, I have made it to Barcelona.

I ended up spending 4 nights in Cinque Terre, staying in Riomaggiore, reading newspapers and books, a bit of sun and a bit of mediterranean sea, drinking wine, cooking up pasta in our kitchens in our apartment/dorms, watching sunsets etc.

Quite relaxing really.


And then Nice which was ironically not particularly nice.

It was like any other city in many ways, except with a beach of rocks.
The surrounding towns on the Cote D'Azur however were rather nice, such as Monaco/Monte Carlo and Cannes. Never seen so many Ferraris, Lambourghinis, and Porsches in my life.

From Nice, we headed through Avignon in Southern France to Espana and Barcelona!

However, it was to be for one night only as the La Tomatina Festival was just days away!

The following morning I jumped on an old, dodgy bus driven by a young english guy (appropiately named Mr Dodge) who I met in an internet cafe in Florence.

We drove down to Valencia along the coast, stopping at the beach for a swim along the way.

We stayed the night in a beach car park just south of the city and used the facilities of the campground nearby: Cheap!

From there we headed off the next day out to Bunol, a typical small town west of Valencia, where, in a small dead end street at the end of town, about 30 people had set up camp in théir various cars and vans.

The next 36 hours were so ridiculous that i can barely describe it.
That night, Ash (Mr Dodge) went to pick up his mum from the airport in the bus, accompanied by 26 drunken revellers. His mum, who was amazingly cool about the whole situation, received a rock star´s welcome at Valencia Airport, cheered by 27 people and then escorted back in to Bunol in the packed bus.

That night, this small peaceful town was pumping with carnivals and temporary outdoor clubs all night until the festival started in the morning.

At 10am, after hundreds of buses brought in 40000 people to fill the streets completely shoulder to shoulder, the festival began with the Ham on a high pole, which was the precursor to the main event.

When 11am came around, the shots went off and the high powered hoses started soaking everyone, as the first trucks moved through the streets dumping and throwing thousands of Roma tomatoes.


And the fun began......


What followed was at times exhilirating, violent, hilarious, and always messy.

Nevertheless, everybody ended up covered head to toe in tomato residue, parts of which were to inevitably remain for days to come.

And then it was over.


As the thousands of tourists headed back to Valencia, the town had a well earned siesta.


However, yet another random event was to occur that night.
Not publicised at all, and hence more for the locals, at 3am another shot rang out as the same streets that had been covered in tomatoes earlier that day were now covered in fireworks.

15 mins of fireworks at ground level shooting out through the streets: alot of fun and of course quite dangerous.


Following this bizarre display, hundreds of people appeared from nowhere setting up fires all along the street, for a big cook-up.
So we helped one old guy collect his firewood and then watched him prepare a massive dish of mojete, a thick meaty soup which we ate with no hesitation.


So apart from random bus rides to airports with 30 drunk people cheering on someones mum, all night parties, 40000 people throwing tomatoes at each other, random 3am street level fireworks, and 5am family and friends cook ups, it was a pretty boring 3 days.