Did someone say "Tomato"?

After catching our first train on our eurail passes, we arrived in Valencia in the stinking hot afternoon heat. With the temperature rising we were grateful for the fully airconditioned bus to our hostel. From our short trip on the bus we could already see how different Barcelona and Valencia were. While Barcelona buildings were classic mediterranean styled apartment blocks of reds and browns with balconies covered in a variety of pot plants, Valencia had an classical elegance to its architecture, with detailed plaster mouldings on the top of every building and lovely warm pastel colours. 
We arrived at our hostel on 'Tequilla Sunrise' night, and seeing as we both despise the substance, we decided to venture out for a nice cold cervesa. We were informed that the following night was themed 'Sex on the Beach', to which Charlie responded excitedly "what does that involve?", only to be dissapointed to learn it meant the cocktail was half price that night.
So we asked to be pointed in the direction of the cheapest tapas bar, which was around the corner, where we enjoyed a couple of pints and the most delicious potatoe omlette we had in Spain. 
The next night we enjoyed numerous cocktails, during happy hour they were only €1.50!!! Met some cool Aussies and drank too much, resulting in me passing out and Charlie kicking on into the night for a pub crawl. 
The beach was nicer here, less people and the water was much cleaner, so we spent most of our days attempting to compete with the beautiful Spanish skin tone, failing miserably but trying our darndest to match. 
Mojito night was my favourite, though we did have to add an extra tablespoon of sugar to each drink. But hey, they were only €1.50 so I wasn't complaining. 

Then came the moment we'd been waiting for, what we'd been longing for over the last month- La Tomatina!
For those uneducated as to what this is, it's the largest organized tomato fight, and it happens every year at the end of August, a couple of kms out of Valencia. Two days before the fight we trecked our way out to a small beach town to a campsite called Camp Coll Vert, where we were camping it up with hundreds of fellow Aussies on a Fanatics Tour. 
Many stories were swapped of travels leading up to the tour, drinking games with novelty giant cards and a giant game of Twister. For the entirety of the tour a universal rule was introduced by the camp leaders: you weren't allowed to say the word "mine". It was ALOT harder than it sounds, and the punishment was drop and give them 20 pushups. As the night grew more rowdy, my body was aching from the excessive excercise. 
We met up with travellers met previously on our Adventures, and suprised by old friends aswell. Its not just Perth thats small, its the whole bloody world!

And now for the day of the fight. We'd been drinking the night before and I'd asked a friend to wake me up at 6 am, so we could make the bus for 6.30 to head to the fight. However at 7am pots were bangong outside our tent, trying to gather up those who failed to hear their alarms or just hit snooze too many times. Aka Charlie and I. Just making the bus we were still slightly enebriated from the night before and were super keen to see those tomatoes. 
While waiting patiently by the side of the road, minding my own business (there was still 3 hrs till the fight would begin), all of a sudden I feel like I've been hit in the back with a cricket bat. I spin around to see a sloppy tomato lying guiltily on the road. While I knew I was going to get hit by atleast 1 tomato that day, I wasn't quite prepared for the early misfire. However after finally composing myself we continued to walk down to find where the party was at. After standing in the sun in a tiny street crowded with thousands of eager tomatoe lovers, we still didn't see a single tomato in what seemed like hours. Certain that we'd missed the fight because we could not move any further along the street because of the crowd, we accepted it and were ready to call it quits. Then came a sudden bang and a roar of excitment, and we knew that the fight had finally just begun. Over the next hour or so pickup trucks drove up the street, filled to the brim with slushy, smelly, succulent tomatoes. Picture in your mind the most intense mosh pit you've ever experienced x100 and add in a few thousand tomatoes and the stench of vomit (the tomatoes) rising in the thick, hot air, and you may be able to imagine what it was like. There were moments when I was ready to say goodbye to Charlie for the last time and accepted it was my time to die. However I can proudly say that I have survived to tell the tale. This is a must do when going to Europe and I would recommend anyone to do it! Though it did mean I didn't want to eat, let alone see or smell a tomato for atleast a week. 
After washing ourselves off at the beach we were ready for a siesta, so snoozed on the sand til it was time for the farewell party. Near the end of the night/ early in the morning, a small group of us sat by a bonfire on the beach, too tired to speak so just soaked in the heat of the fire until one by one we dissapeared to our tents.

Not sure what our next plan of action was, we spontaneously booked ourselves on an 8hr ferry to Mallorca, one of the Balearic islands off the East coast of Spain. 

Stay tuned for the next chapter of the AKP and Charlies Adventures.

Adios

"Cervesa, agua, coca-cola, beer?"

Beach, beers, bars and beauty are 4 words that instantly spring to mind when thinking back to our time spent in Barcelona. On arrival, we discovered that once again, our timing perfectly coincided with a huge festival; Fiesta Gracias. On a number of nights we ventured to the center of it all where we stumbled across something none of us were expecting. ( 'We' in Barcelona, consisted of Charlie, myself and our good mate Lloyd who we convinced while drunk in Amsterdam to join us for the week). 
The streets were filled with what seemed like thousands of people, and decorated with the most elaborate art. Down the themed back streets we found huge roosters made from squashed waterbottles, rubber flies hanging from balconies, papermache ghosts, under the sea creatures including a giant Spongebob Square pants and a collection of giant scissors. However one of our favourites was in the center square- from the ceiling hung huge matches; some with celophane flames, others burnt to a crisp and surrounding the tent were giant matchboxes. The effort that must have gone into the preparation is inconceivable and we were in constant awe of the scale of the event. After exploring we sat down near a stage drinking our €1 cervesa (beer) and €4 mojitos and listened to a spanish punk band play. 
During the day we spent hours soaking up the suns rays and swimming in the  calm Sea, while listening to the constant chant "cervesa, coca-cola, agua, beer?" by men trying to make a living off us poor souls who just want to enjoy a nice quiet time on the beach. However some of us did indulge in a few cervesas on the sand...
With some new friends from our hostel: Vancouver (we found out after he left his name was Max by looking at the name he wrote on his sandwhich he left behind) and Emma from Adelaide, we made the treck early in the morning to see the Sagrada Familia, the gigantic cathedral designed by the genius Gaudi. Words cannot describe the size or beauty of the building, its just something you have to see for yourself. But maybe wait until 2030 to visit as that is when they estimate construction will be completed (after more than 100 years of building).  We also went on the free Gaudi walking tour and visited his famous apartment buildings which were also very impressive. 
Taking full advantage of anything free on our very limited budget, we also went on the walking tour through the Gothic Center where we learnt about the history and creation of Barcelona back during the Roman Empire and saw some gorgeous old buildings. Many photos were taken, however you will just have to wait a little longer before i figure out how to upload them. 
On two of the nights we were taken out on pub crawls from our hostel,  the second night we went to a club called 'Cupcake', which we're pretty sure was a gay club...don't know why we didn't guess that from the name.
After 5 days we were not fully satisfied with our stay, so we went and moved to a more central part of town to one of the best hostels I think we will ever stay in. There was tapas, beer pong and free midnight feeds from new drunk friends. On our second last night we decided to commit to what we thought was a pub crawl, however once getting on the bus with fellow drunkards, we realized we were infact being taken to a huge pool party. I know what you're thinking- awesome, right? However not for me, who had decided it was uneccissary to wear my bather top on a pub crawl, or a bra seeing as my top was quite loose fitting (and I'm half hippe on the inside). So we rocked up at the pool to disover hundreds of people dancing, drinking and swimming around this huge pool. Charlie, being the good friend she is, leant me her singlet to swim in, so ot all turned out OK in the end. We met some delightful French boys and danced and swan the night away. When the music stopped we were outraged!- only to discover it was 5am and the buses were here to pick us up. Needless to say it was a pretty epic night. 
Though it wasn't just the beer and mojitos we enjoyed in Barcelona, there was much Sangria to be drunk by those who enjoyed it and delicious tapas including traditional spanish potatoe omelette, chorizo, green peppers, meatballs in salsa and fried fish. Though one tapas that confused us was the 'cheese tacos' which ended up being a plate of cubed cheddar cheese with a green olive on top. Not quite what we were expecting but hey, who can say no to a plate of tasty cheese?
And there drew a close to our adventures in 'Barthelona', next stop: Valencia. But more about that later, my busy little typing fingers need a break.