ideas for cheap stuff

I know I haven’t written in a bit, but nobody seems to have missed me anyway since there are no new comments, ah well. At least I enjoy this, and maybe when I head off for mad parts of the world people will start reading it again. Especially cos I won’t be on the networking pages so much. Does everyone still have e-mail? I’m rarely contacted by that age old method anymore!
So since Monday morning the fripples are back and it just brings to my mind memories of the heat of Croatia, Bosnia Herzegovina, and of course Spain, cos I was only there 3 weeks ago, but it feels much longer. That’s not to say I haven’t had fun since, I’ve had, mayhap, too much, its just that the sun makes things that little bit shinier, and though we got some in Ireland over the last few weeks, it wasn’t all that much. Ah well, let me tell you of my world wind trip to experience the thrill and seductive juices of La Tomatina .
Just picture it: You, in your most crappy clothing, underwear and footwear included, head to a little industrial town that doesn’t look like much. People everywhere, when suddenly everyone decides to jam into a little street where water is sprayed from hoses, and chucked out of windows and off roofs on top of you. You’re getting soaked, and the crowd gets boisterous. Suddenly several guys descend on one long haired skinny milk-bottle skinned bloke and rip the shirt off him, this starts a war as shirts everywhere are ripped, and start sailing through the air. Then, they come… A huge dump truck begins ambling down this tiny street. Groups of people struggle to keep upright, nevermind sight of each other. Some run back down off the main small street to neighbouring streets, but you stand tall, well really you’re just in a sea of people unable to move much. You get between the truck and the punters closely knit behind you, you know you’re committed now. Then the truck dumps its load, and once it gets past you, SPLAT!, one straight in the kisser! After that 5 more trucks come down the street in the very same manner and it gets more and more frantic. Tomato fight! The crowd pulsates with energy, and the tomatoes keep flying.
Ah, what fun! At one stage some guys were ripping my top off, but with tomatoes everywhere it was hard for them to keep hold of me. I still haven’t seen any photos, though my friend Kim took some of us swimming down the street we were pushed onto at the end. It was the very last dump truck, and we were trying to stay on the main street, but sure there was such a mass of people you couldn’t go in a direction other than the way the crowd milled. The street went downhill and after about 10 mins of being squished the crowd opened up and the tomato juice flowing down the street went up to our calves. So we sat down in it, and then decided to swim down. Those should be class alright.
After the tomato madness, Mackers and Jen, friends of my mate Jonathan, who live in Valentia, brought several of us to this gorgeous lake about 15 minutes walk out of Bunol, where we spent the afternoon cliff jumping, beer swilling and swimming in the lake. Of course, I still had tomato in my hair that night, but it was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon. My mate Tania had a bit too much sauce and fell in the swamp, so while Keith and Sco went to collect the car, and the other Irish headed for the train, we lay in the sun on a mattress we found on the street, and waited for our chariot.
Shall endeavor to get more time to update next week, but for now I’ve another wedding tomorrow, and on Sunday I’m going to partake in Haircuts by Children at Grafton Barbers, IFSC at 13:00 as a start to getting money together for People In Need at the end of October. Drop by if you’re in Dublin, and maybe a pint afterwards in the Bleu Note for some Latin jazz by a mate’s band? Not a bad Sunday plan methinks!