Waking early, we joined the group (timthetourman.com) for a 7am breakfast so we could get an early 8:30 train from Valencia through to Bunol. Not knowing what to expect, we drifted in out of conscious on the way.

Once in the city, ahem, town of Bunol. We made our way through the streets towards the Town Square and main street. You instantly knew you were in the right place by the tens of thousands of people on the street and the wise shop / home owners who knew what was to come and had covered their houses with large sheets, tarpaulins and canvas.

We were there very early, about 10am, and the actual festival wasn’t to start until 12. This didn’t stop the predominately local Spanish crowd breaking into sporadic bouts of football chants and water fights. We had by this stage, manoeuvred ourselves into a prime position near a 10 meter high greased pole which held a ham. The festival could officially start when this ham was retrieved. You would imagine this tasking taking only a few minutes, but the rilvalry meant that half the people were pulling down the tower of people while the other half tried to climb. It keep ours and the crowds attention for a good hour and a half. They finally managed to get the ham, much to the delight of the crowd, the festival could begin! Now approximately 40,000 people crammed the small narrow streets, in preparation for the tomatoes, the traditional T-shirt ripping occurred, resulting in t-shirts being hurled every where. Girls should be warned to wear a sports bar if you want to keep your dignity. The troops were getting impatient, and a chant had started 'TO-MAR-TEEE TO-MAR-TEEE'.

It was getting very hot, when a loud bang went off, followed by a roar from the crowd, this signalled the trucks were coming. The first truck was beginning to roll down the street. The crowd quickly parted, crushing people to the sides of the small road in anticipation. The truck stopping from time to time to dump a pile of new tomatoes.

After this first truck went by, there was a flurry of tomatoes thrown, they disappeared into a trampled thin muck on the ground and disappeared. We were left looking around thinking 'was that it', when another truck started to make its way up, then another and another. We lost count, but later news reports indicated that a total of 140 tonnes of tomatoes were used in the festival. It was mayhem.

Words, and even these pictures don't begin to describe it. It was almost overwhelming, the tomatoes ended up ankle deep and you were just scooping very chunky soup to splatter people with. For an hour, you were continually being pelted and pelting random strangers with tomatoes. All being assimilated into a massive human bolognese.

Once the second boom went off, signalling the end, put down your tomatoes, you were grateful. The tomatoes actually hurt a bit when you get hit and they really start to sting in your eyes. Temporarily blinding you while another person takes advantage of that moment to target you again.

We slowly made the walk back to the train station, as always up hill. The locals come out of their homes with hoses to help rinse off the participants. It didn’t really help. When you were this covered you need a fire truck to clean you off. The tomato pulp is in your ears, stuck to you everywhere. With the heat of the day, you could feel it all drying out and smell it starting to cook on you and everyone else.

They had showers set up at the train station, so we rinsed off, and bought a couple of souvenir t-shirts. Which were basically compulsory as you needed one (a T-shirt) to get on the train.

Rating out of 5: *****
Recommend you go, it just rocks. Oh and Spain is fantastic as well. I’m going to Pamplona next year, want to come?

See all the photos here