La Tomatina

I decided two days before that I was going to take the overnight bus from Madrid to Valencia. Getting on the bus to Bunol from Valencia was chaotic.. I could tell already that the day would be crazy!

The hours before the main event, people think it's amusing to throw buckets of water at you so beware! Soon the trucks came and I was being pelted with tomatos. At first when I heard that it lasted for only one hour, I was dissappointed, but actually it was a good thing, because as fun as it was, it was also kind of painful. Absolutely no one has mercy on you. When I fell, there was always a guy there to rub tomatos in my face while I was down!

After the mayhem, it was harder than I thought it would be to get the tomato out of my hair. If you have long hair, bring conditioner! The train ride back to Valencia was horible - we were all sweaty and smelling of tomatos - but still I think it was a great experience - and now I can say, I took part in the WORLD'S LARGEST TOMATO FIGHT!

I enjoyed this as I met my wife here, thank you!

The two Rob's and Harry made the trip to Bunol for the tomato battle of the year, we left our villa in Moairia at first light(or seemed like it) , but having a heavy night before left the driver (Rob 1) a bit worse for wear and having to stop on the hard shoulder for a sick stop!!

The road signs didn't help us to find our destination so after a bit of back tracking and a drive through Velencia Airport we eventually found Bunol, parking about two miles away we walked to the tomato battle, the lorrys filled with the dreaded tomatoes past us and the odd tomato bounced off my shoulder, there was thousands of people all walking in the same direction so we thought safe to follow, we managed to push our way through the crowds to the street where it was all about to happen, it felt like being at a football match in the old style terraces with singing and chanting waiting for the lorrys filled with tomatoes to arrive.

Then the rumble of the huge lorrys squized through the tight street filled with tomatoes, people riding on top of the lorrys throwing tomatoes as they past.Then the lorrys cargo hold started to lift up, then suddenly tonnes of tomatoes slid out of the back of each of the four lorries, then all carnage began, ouch that hurt, one straight in the eye, that's going to leave a mark, i scrambled around on the floor for a handful of tomatoes to throw at any unsuspecting victim, this was hard work with the lorries creeping past, trying not to get squashed, then again more in the face, i should of brought my swimming goggles like everyone else, that's starting to sting now,picking skins out of my eyes, but no escape, no way out we're pinned in, oh well ,best get throwing or kicking some more to defend myself, the lorries past again, empty this time i think, i can't see that well!! being 6foot 6 makes me an easy target,the floor now about six inches deep in tomato puree, proving to be very slippery, i take cover to find my son Harry and the other Rob, but i still can't get to where i need to get to,people are going mad with excitement,i'm still a bit hungover but it's going now,funny that!! then there is a large bang to signal the end of the battle.There were no winners except those pesky tomatoes. We were making our way out when BANG! a rolled up tomato filled tee shirt hit me square in the ear, we managed to escape to find locals with buckets of water and hosepipes washing passers by off from the now smelly tomato residue,there was people selling beer and food and tee shirts all the way back to our car so a snack stop and a souvenir was on the cards, the walk back to the car was difficult as the tomato juice still on our bodies started to dry, now felt very uncomfortable so we threw our tee shirts in the bushes and carried on to our car, it was a great experience and if your in spain on the last wednesday in august it's worth the travelling, don't forget your goggles!!!

Shacked up in a villa in Javeã, an hour and half from Buñol we were briefed on 'Operation La Tomatina' the night before. The brief was to travel up in the early hours of the morning, get in, do the job and get out. All the lads knew this operation was gonna be messy. I had warned them not all of us would get out unscathed.

The morning arrived and the lads got ready in silence. ETA was 12.00, so we got going at 10.30 as briefed, crammed in a small civilian car as a disguise. Arriving in the outskirts of the village of Buñol the excitement and anticipation began to build. Myself and my small platoon infiltrated the crowds swarming towards the old town, keeping a tight formation.

The traditional pre-operation nerves entered the stomach as we crossed the bridge into the narrow streets. It then hit me, how many people were carrying swimming goggles! S**t, we had under estimated the dangers we were about to face.

I took point with "wheelor" bringing up the rear, weaving our way into the crowds. From the distance you could hear the rumble of heavy vehicles approaching.

We got ourselves in position. As the trucks entered the street there was the sound of a banger and all hell broke loose. Caught up in a cross fire, wheelor backed off and dog took a direct hit!

Pandemonium ensued with missiles flying all over the place. We took several hits but kept going in the chaotic hour that followed. The sound of a banger could be heard over the noise and the lads knew that was the signal to return to the RV.

We regrouped, got cleaned up and after a successful operation went and had a well deserved beer.