Las Fallas

Holy Week in Sevilla was really unique. I don’t think there is anything like it in the US. Maybe there are similar processions, I don’t know. But what was really stood out as different was the total lack of crowd control. However, it was nothing compared to what we saw next.

From Sevilla, Charlotte and I met up with a couple of my friends for Las Fallas in Valencia. If tame crowds of somber spectators wouldn’t be allowed to pack narrow little streets to watch a religious procession in the US, there is no possible way that las Fallas would ever be permitted.

I am still not exactly sure how to explain it. All we knew was: It began as a pagan festival that celebrated the beginning of spring. Then it was catholicized. So, nowadays it theoretically celebrates Saint Joseph’s day. But most importantly, it includes lots of fireworks, burning papier maché statues, the election of a falla princess, and has the reputation of being the best week long non-stop party, ever.

But when we first arrived there was no way we could face the crowds and see what it was all about. So, we went to the beach!

That night we worked up the courage to venture out to the nightly firework display. The fireworks were impressive. But the best part was the incredibly festive atmosphere. Everyone, of all ages, was out to have a good time. And they stayed out all night. It was like a city-wide block party but way better. There were private tent parties blasting music. And on almost every corner there were stands selling fresh Churros, Porros, and Buñuelos! All of which are various forms of dough fried in a huge vat of boiling grease, best eaten dipped in a cup of thick melted chocolate, and typically taken in the morning before going to bed.

The next day, we got up just in time for more fireworks. No, we didn’t sleep through the day. One of the las Fallas traditions is La Mascletá. Fireworks during the day! The street was packed just like in Sevilla. But this time it was wide main-street. And they set off the fireworks right over the City hall. It was strangest sight. If it weren’t for all the smiling faces I would have thought we were being bombed. To make it even better, the Valencian word for fireman is “bomber”. So there were tons of guys in black suits with “bomber” printed across the back.

Valencia is the birthplace of Paella. So, afterwards we went on a desperate search for a good paella. Most places were either closed or packed. Just as we were about to give up we came across the best lunch possible. They served a delicious menu of five plates of tapas followed by some of the best paella I have ever had.

We spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing. One of the highlights was the cathedrale that claims to house the Holy Grail, unfortunately they didn’t seem to have it on display.

We rested up in our luxurious hotel room (made affordable by sleeping four to a bed, of course). located right next to the Center of Sciences which included an aquarium that looked like Sydney Australia.

That night we went back out for the grand finale. All year groups work on building enormous colorful satirical statue things called “fallas”.

Over the course of the week they are judged and a winner is chosen. At 10 O’clock on March 19^th, they begin setting off fireworks above each falla, and proceed to burn them down one by one, culminating in the biggest fireworks show yet, and the burning of the falla in the Plaça de l’Ajuntament.

We picked a falla and got a good spot along the little barrier to watch. We could see the fireworks going off on other streets while they doused our falla in gasoline. Finally, ours went. It was unbelievably cool. When the head fell off the entire crowd was forced back by the wall of heat.

Just like the night before, the party continued all night. We made some friends and had a great time.

With day time fireworks, endless churros, burning efigees, and little kids setting firecrackers off from sunrise to sunrise it was a celebration unlike any other! and probably broke hundreds of U.S. safety codes!