Euro Trip Part 15: Spain & La Tomatina 07
Spain Travel Blog› entry 1 of 1 › view all entries
Current Mood: Thankful
Category: Travel and Places
So we had success with the couchsurfing! We were going to stay with a student fella called Santi without having to pay any financial cost or perform sexual favours, which was a relief cos I was getting pretty exhausted by this point of the trip.
In Valencia Mands and I acquired a really cool map. It was an illustration map telling us where everything was with a 5 years olds drawing showing us what the buildings supposedly looked like. As mentioned before, it was a cool map but it wasnâ€™t a really cool map. What would have made it a cool map was if it had an explanation telling us what the buildings were and what they signify, and as a result we trooped around Valencia taking snappy snaps of buildings that even today I havenâ€™t a fucking clue what they are. At one point during our illustrated mystery tour we ended up bursting in on an intimate church service where upon the people at the back swung their necks around to see what the disruption was. We managed to squeeze one photograph in before hurrying away to see what other no name buildings we could find.
It wasnâ€™t long after I reached the centre that I was aware of a funky smell in the vicinity I knew it wasnâ€™t my body odour as earlier I washed in Hugo Boss, applied CK deodorant and was wearing David Beckham fragrance, a pretty sweet cocktail if I say so myself. A quick check on the soles of my trainers to see if I stepped in something nasty revealed nothing and I blew my nose to make sure no one had played the prank of placing some dog poo up my nostril whilst I slept â€“ ever done that to someone? After walking around a tad more I soon discovered the reason for the funkâ€¦ the city generally just stank.
Unlike last year when I arrived at Bunol half cut on Spanish beer after travelling all the way from Barcelona, we found ourselves making the relatively short train journey that was packed with so many bodies one could be mistaken to thinking its final destination was Auswich. I had old scores to settle with the Bunol locals. Last year I was here it was for fun â€“ this time it was personal and I was ready for revenge, but soon found myself losing the battle before the war had even began as I was pressed up against some sweaty hairy guy for well over a minute until finally managing to peel myself away from Darwinâ€™s missing link to evolution. And once I managed to do that, well, it all kicked off really. I was chucking tomatoes at everybody from people dressed in chemical suits to blokes wearing dresses to even throwing a tomato at myself â€“ I figured I needed to score at least one direct hit. The end of the tomato fight signalled the beginning of the t-shirt fight whereupon anyone who was still wearing a T quickly had if ripped off them from a Spanish pack of wolves. My homemade painted T displaying â€˜Stop! Iâ€™m allergic to tomatoesâ€™, which proved useless by the way, was torn from my body along with a thin layer of skin and the suntan Iâ€™d spent the last two months working on. The T fight was at one point temporarily stopped by a massive Spanish guy who looked like heâ€™s eat me for siesta if I slapped a soggy T over his face.
Ever since after the 2006 event Iâ€™ve had a small tomato tree growing from my left ear, to which I offered you the remarkable price of Â£1 per kilo. Real beauties these tomatoes are and customers of mine will be happy to hear after this yearâ€™s event I now have another tree growing this time from my right ear. These ones are a little more expensive at Â£1.50 per kilo as they are organic but I can confidently assure you shanâ€™t be disappointed with the quality. Supermarket giants Tesco have already expressed an interest in regular produce.
So Madrid was a bit like Vienna â€“ bugger all to do except go to a pub and there we stayed until we left to go to the train station, where we came across yet another collapsed person, one for the road I guess, before jumping on our flight back to an unfamiliar place called home.
And that was the end of a years planning and 2 months travelling. Like one of those ghost story television shows I feel at this point I should do some conclusion at the end of the show, the usual type of crap just to kill off those last few minutes they have left before the adverts kick in. Maybe youâ€™ve travelled around