We flew together with James Swift from Heathrow to Madrid where we met Swift’s lovely friend Mel who arrived 1 hour before us. It was the four of us who shared a four bed dorm at the ‘Mad Hostel’ for three nights. The weather was lovely and warm (much different from the miserable London weather we have been getting used to) and we walked around for most of two days checking out the sites, shops, markets and restaurants. Tapas, as most of you would know is the most common type of food in Spain (bits and pieces of cheeses and meats) and Sangria the most popular drink. I was quite wary of the tapas and personally thought most of it was quite dodge. The sangria was okay, but still, I wasn't really much of a fan. Mel probably drank Madrid dry of Sangria anyway... she loved it!
(Photos below of Mel with a Sangria, our hostel room and me carrying the boys' Turbos "Big Beer")
One afternoon we watched a bull fight, which was interesting, but down right sick. After two out of four bull fights, we had to sit outside of the arena because we couldn’t bear seeing another poor bull being slaughtered and dragged off, leaving a trail of blood, purely for enterntainment.
(Photos below of us site seeing and at the Bull Fight)
After the two nights in Madrid we caught a bus to Valencia where we then parted with James S and Mel because we were with two different tour companies. We camped at a site which was about a 40min bus ride from the centre of Valencia. James S and Mel, the lucky ducks, snapped up such a good deal and stayed in an awesome hotel, right in Valencia, for only an extra 50 pounds! Our tour was pretty much filled with complete idiots; Either 18 year olds who were completely embarrassing themselves because of the amount of alcohol they were consuming or people who were older, but still acted as if they were only 18.
(Photo below is of us outside the bull fighting arena)
The first night we had a few drinks and met the other people in our group. We had dodgy hamburgers for dinner, made up of raw mince and soggy bread that were stone cold. James bought me a bottle of white wine from the little store at the caravan park and it came out a cloudy brown when he poured it into my glass and smelt worse than it looked! James took it back and swapped it for a different bottle, which was much better, but still disgusting! I didn’t dare drink it.
(Photo below of our campsite)
The next day, James was feeling quite sick. At first I thought he must have been hung over, but he didn’t drink that much the night before and he was still sick late the next night, so it must have been from something else… probably that burger, or from the little bit of my wine he tasted... who knows!
The third day was the actual tomato festival. We had to be on the bus, ready to leave for the village by 7am, which was very difficult seeing as though all the annoying people in our camp stayed up all night long with the music blaring and yelling and screaming at each other.
La Tomatina was very interesting. I’m glad we did it, but I would never do it again. It was so messy and the local Spanish boys get quite violent and don’t know when to stop. If you’re really unlucky your clothes get torn off you and thrown around, saturated in tomato puree. I avoided these boys at all costs, and thankfully because I had my James with me, I was less of a female target than some other girls! The funniest thing of the day though, was when we ran into Mel (James Swift’s friend). She mentioned that she did not see James that morning when they boarded their buses to come into the festival. I knew straight away, without a doubt that James would have slept in, even though he was the one who pretty much organized this trip and was keen as mustard to come to this festival! Later on, when I spoke to him he told me the story of him going out the night before for the yearly ‘Water and Wine’ festival, coming home at 5am the next morning and having to be on the bus two hours later. As unbelievable as this may sound, he actually slept through his alarm, his room mate’s alarm, two concierge calls and two people from his tour group bashing on their hotel room door! You can just imagine how furious he was with himself when he finally awoke at mid day (well after the festival had finished) and realized he had missed the whole thing!
The third day was the actual tomato festival. We had to be on the bus, ready to leave for the village by 7am, which was very difficult seeing as though all the annoying people in our camp stayed up all night long with the music blaring and yelling and screaming at each other.
La Tomatina was very interesting. I’m glad we did it, but I would never do it again. It was so messy and the local Spanish boys get quite violent and don’t know when to stop. If you’re really unlucky your clothes get torn off you and thrown around, saturated in tomato puree. I avoided these boys at all costs, and thankfully because I had my James with me, I was less of a female target than some other girls! The funniest thing of the day though, was when we ran into Mel (James Swift’s friend). She mentioned that she did not see James that morning when they boarded their buses to come into the festival. I knew straight away, without a doubt that James would have slept in, even though he was the one who pretty much organized this trip and was keen as mustard to come to this festival! Later on, when I spoke to him he told me the story of him going out the night before for the yearly ‘Water and Wine’ festival, coming home at 5am the next morning and having to be on the bus two hours later. As unbelievable as this may sound, he actually slept through his alarm, his room mate’s alarm, two concierge calls and two people from his tour group bashing on their hotel room door! You can just imagine how furious he was with himself when he finally awoke at mid day (well after the festival had finished) and realized he had missed the whole thing!
(Photo below of our fanatics camping group- We're on the top left)
In the meantime, my James had started to feel a bit better but I had started to feel sick. We hadn’t had alcohol for two days now… even though we were on a tour, so I knew my sickness must have been from something I had eaten. All I could do by that afternoon was lie in my stinking hot tent with my legs tucked up to my belly, feeling like, any second I was going to vomit. The tent was so uncomfortable as we had no mattresses (it was advertised as ‘beach camping’ and everyone there assumed we’d be on sand, but it was hard dirt and rock) and the pains in my belly were excruciating. Throughout the afternoon my sickness got worse. I was vomiting over and over again and eventually needing to go to the toilet ever half hour as well. To make it worse, our tent was so far away from the toilet blocks and by 9pm I could barely walk myself to the toilets because I was so weak and dizzy. By 11pm it got to the stage where James tried to find me a doctor, but none were available. He also tried to ring James Swift to see if there were any hotel rooms at his hotel back in Valencia, but that was unsuccessful as the phones wouldn’t work! I was ever so grateful when the dude who ran the caravan park, offered us his caravan to sleep in (free of charge). It didn’t have its own toilet, but it was much closer to the toilet block, much further away from the racket of our camp site and actually had a bed to lie on. Neither James nor I slept at all that night. Poor James had to pretty much carry me to the toilets every time, and I continued to vomit every half hour. At 8am the next morning we had to catch a bus into Valencia to get our bus back to Madrid and finally our flight home. Luckily we found a pharmacy on the way and the lady spoke a little English, so she gave me medication to stop the vomiting etc. I don’t think I would have survived the trip home otherwise!
I also now know why they call it Tapas: Tap Arse!
1 comment:
how much did the hostel cost for one the four of you? Was it located in a good spot?
thanks,
Jake
"the traveler"
Cabbage Soup Diet
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