3 AM on the night of March 19th, the last day of Las Fallas, and I had every intention of writing a post about what I had just seen and experienced.  I got as far as sitting down in front of the computer and sorting through some photographs, then…BOOM!  Fallas burn-out hit me.  36 hours later I can finally face this small task, just barely.

Living in the centre of town, in the heart of the celebrations, has been fun but tiring.  The band that blared away into the wee hours three nights in a row was a bit much to bear, though lack of sleep in general offered some defense against the noise as our little household slipped into an exhausted sleep.  I don’t mean to complain - it really has been a lot of fun.

Two nights ago saw the sky over Valencia fill with acrid black smoke as hundreds of millions of Euros worth of elaborate sculptures and fireworks were set alight.  Even my irreverent heart was torn to see such wanton destruction, though like those around me I was enthralled at the sight of these giant figures burning and toppling. 

First Falla

We witnessed two of these massive constructions meet their fiery end.  The first was in a square a block away from us - Plaza Lope de Vega - where we waited with swiftly decreasing levels of patience for over an hour.  Oscar is a heavy sleeper in two senses: he didn’t stir during the fireworks that immediately preceded the burning nor during the bonfire; he was also very heavy to hold for so much time while we held on, continually asking ourselves and each other if we should just head home.  In the end, we couldn’t miss it: you can’t be in Valencia during Las Fallas and not witness one of them burn.

Despite the fatigue that we were all feeling and the weariness of the long wait, we were are quite impressed with the cremà.  It began with a fireworks display that was both brilliant and deafening, followed quickly by a giant inferno that must have singed more than a few onlooking eyebrows.  I admit to a moment of panic when the whole thing toppled over and the crowd started pushing back towards us where we literally stood with out backs against a wall.  It didn’t last long though as, by design or by luck, the falla fell neatly within the confines of the blockaded area that it occupied. 

Second Falla

 Spent after the many nights of little sleep, our group trudged back to the apartment a mere two minutes’ walk away, determined to get some much needed rest.  Yet, somehow, once our 40 lb weight was snugly wrapped up in his bed, we found one last wind and decided to see what we could see of the burning of the falla in Plaza Dr. Collado from our balcony.  It wasn’t a complete view but, wine in hand and boy safely in bed, it was a good place to be.

We weren’t disappointed.  It turns out that this falla is a traditional crowd pleaser.  The fireworks display that signalled its destruction was quite impressive as was the fire itself.  But more than that, it was amusing to see the antics that followed; a taunting game between the crowd and the firefighters.  I’ve since been told that this scene repeats itself every year, but at the time I wasn’t certain which way things were going to go. 

Firefighters are always on the scene when a falla is burnt - makes sense.  As this particular falla seems to have been the last of the night, many firefighters were present and presumably about to finish their long evening of vigilance.  (Where else in the world do firefighters get to start so many fires?)  As the flames began to lose force, the crowd began to push towards the fire and some individuals started to run at the burning falla, kicking down still untouched portions of it or posing dangerously close for souvenir pictures.  The second person I saw do this was given a full-on blast from the hose of one obviously unimpressed firefighter (the gestures were clear even from where we watched).  But that was just the start.

Right about then, I started to actually listen to what the crowd was chanting from time to time; though I couldn’t ever make it out very clearly, I’m fairly certain that they were shouting “No, no. no; no seas maricón”; in short, ” don’t be a faggot”.  What?!?!?

Eventually, the crowd-firefighter relations deteriorated alarmingly.  A bright red helmeted firefighter turned his powerful hose on the crownd and sent them running.  Others rushed in from the other side of the square to be met with the same response - that water must have been freezing in the chilly night air.  And yet back rushed the first group with even louder taunts.  And so it went on for some time until everyone left in the area - and no one seemed to actually leave - was completely soaked.  Was this going to turn ugly?

Far from it.  After fifteen minutes or so the crowd ended up parading red-helmet around on its shoulders and cheering him on.  From the safety of our balcony, this whole affair was very fun to watch.

Over at last, can’t wait till next year

The whole event has truly been a blast.  On the second day after its end, I’m still just a walking zombie but I think I’ll be more or less back to normal tomorrow - let’s hope.  After so many explosions and fires I feel as though I’ve just come back from the war - one that we’ve all won.  I’m grateful that there’s nothing looming for tonight that can prevent me from getting a much needed rest, but also grateful to the people of Valencia for putting on such a great show.

Amazingly little evidence of the giant bonfires and boisterous revelry was left by the time I stuck my head out the window at 10 AM the next day.  Las Fallas had vanished like the giant clouds of smoke that it produced.  The streets were open to cars once more and the throngs had disappeared.  I was sleepy enough for it all to seem like some disjointed, surreal dream.  Thankfully, we took enough pictures for me to be sure that it really did happen.

Next year we’ll be better prepared for Las Fallas: I can’t wait.