Meanderings with Mads

As the woman outstretched her hand, inches away from the slippery meat, 40,000 people held their breath.

She was not a particularly remarkable woman. Indeed, she was neither tall nor short, and her brown hair, plain attire and nine-to-five job as a secretary did not stand her apart from the thousands of other individuals jostling in the Spanish street below her.

And yet, as she balanced at the top of the human pyramid, 5 tiers high and supported by a greasy pole which dangled the large jamon from it’s tip, the woman was anything other than ordinary.

Suddenly, as if propelled by the crowd’s sheer, unanimous desire for her to reach it, the woman caught hold of the ham and pulled it free, triumphantly. All at once, the pyramid collapsed into the sea of people, and the crowd roared. The sounds of the water canons blasted into the air; La Tomatina had begun.

First came the trucks. Battered and bulky, they lumbered down the narrow streets, wedging through the congestion as Bunol residents sat grinning on the back.

Next came the tomatoes. The fruits began to whizz through the air, bright and squishy, hurled first by the locals on the lorries, as they sourced from the piles cascading in the truck beds, and later by the crowd itself.

Mayhem ensued, as the streets erupted into an enormous food fight. Tomatoes flew everywhere, staining bright on the traditional white shirts, painting the buildings in a mushy, fire-engine red. Residents added to the chaos, throwing down more tomatoes from their balconies. Some people fought for dormant projectiles. Others simply frolicked in the unfettered madness.

The hour began to draw to a close. Exhaustion began to take it’s toll, but the crowd fought past it, scooping and flinging the muck from the streets in gleeful determination.

Fuelled by one last bout of energy, the crowd cheered and danced as the water canons sounded again. The festival had ended, and yet a sense of comradeship, and a feeling of achievement burnt bright in the minds of each participant, long after the echoes from the water canons had faded away into the afternoon.