Bang! Bang!...Bang!

We woke Sunday morning to the echoing boom of mascletas, daytime Fallas fireworks. Sunday morning! At 8 a.m.! What is wrong with these people?

We believe this is the only time during our stay that we will have to suffer the early fireworks, but could be wrong. We certainly weren’t expecting this morning’s cacophony. It was presumably in honour of the Crida, the official opening ceremonies of the Fallas festival, set for 8 p.m. that evening at Torre Serrano.

The morning mascletas set the tone for the day. The fireworks shop across the street was open, doing a brisk business. As Karen pointed out, you could spot people making their way to the shop from a few blocks away. If it was a family with kids in tow heading in this direction – or more often, just a Dad and kids – you could be pretty sure they were on their way to buy fire crackers.

All afternoon, and I do mean all afternoon, there were kids half a block down on the narrow cross street outside our windows, letting off fireworks. Bang, bang...bang. Echoing off the walls. On and on. It wears on your nerves. It’s not hard to imagine how nerve-shattering constant gunfire in the streets must be in conflict zones. And what fun can it be for the kids to go on with it for so long? (Oh, yeah. I remember. I was an arch firebug and fireworks fan as a kid too.)

We had also noticed on Saturday – but I forgot to mention here – that Fallas lights have suddenly appeared in our block of Pare Joffre, the cross street (our apartment is on the corner with Calle de Jesus, a fairly major thoroughfare). And at the corner in the next block east of us, floodlights have appeared, suggesting there will be a Fallas statue there in a week or so.

In the late morning, we went for a walk over to Rusaffa to get a progress report on the jerry-built infrastructure for the light shows. It goes on apace. There is certainly no sign of an injunction having been issued to stop it. It rained while we were out, heavily by Valencian standards – a light drizzle by any other – so we went home to lunch. Our plan was to go over to Torre Serrano for the Crida, which promised real – i.e. night-time – fireworks that you can see, so we spent the cool, wet afternoon indoors.

By 6:30 or so, we were starting to hear sounds of reveling outside. Communities from south of us were coming along Jesus on their way to the centro. Some were dressed in team windbreakers, some had noise-making marching bands with them – screechy horns and drums. After an early dinner, we headed out ourselves and joined the river of people flowing toward Torre Serrano. One very nice side-benefit of this outing was that we discovered, quite by chance, the most direct route from our apartment to the centre, which happens to be along mostly pedstrianized streets. Brilliant.

When we got to Plaza de la Virgen, the city’s social epicentre – between the cathedral and the basilica – the mood was very festive, the crowds thickening. Bands appeared to be marshaling before a parade. We kept going, on up Calle de Serrano to the tower. When we got there, lights were flashing, loud dance music was pounding from a loudspeaker system and spotlights were raking the night sky. It was pandemonium. The crowd must already have numbered in the tens of thousands, clogging the closed-to-traffic bridges and streets nearby. And more were coming all the time.

Near Torre Serrano: young people being young people at Crida celebration

The square around the tower itself was a seething mass of people, dancing to the music, drumming and tooting on their instruments, waving community banners hung from standards. We waded into it briefly before realizing madness that way lay, and retreating to one of the less crowded bridges about 200 meters from the tower. We found a spot along the railing and waited patiently. And waited. And waited. The crowd around us was mostly people under 30, a high proportion teenagers. They were having a raucous time. We did see the odd oldster in the mix.

These three cool dudes were sitting directly below us in the Jardines Turia and invited me to photograph them

The music and chaotic hilarity continued until a little after 8, when excited official-sounding voices started blaring out of the loudspeaker system. This was followed by a long video presentation on huge screens, which we could barely see, and apparently, the parading of Falleras and Fallers (female and male community representatives dressed in the traditional 18th-century-style brocaded Fallas costumes). We could see none of this, except fleeting glimpses on the screens when the cameras zoomed in on Falleras. That was followed by a long speech from a very excited woman, and more video. Finally, after 8:30, the streetlights, video screens and floodlights flicked off, and the fireworks began.

Spectacular but brief

And ended almost immediately. We figure they lasted less than five minutes, which is very unusual for Valencia. They were spectacular while they lasted, but apparently just a teaser for the more elaborate dispays we know will come in the days ahead. The crowd seemed reluctant to break up at first, perhaps unsure if it was really over. Has it been a longer fireworks show in past years? We have no idea, as this was our first Crida. After a few minutes, people did start drifting away, and we followed.

The crowds we were walking with gradually thinned. We passed through Plaza de la Virgen, where it appeared something else was going on, or had been – something band music-related, it appeared. We didn’t tarry to see what it was, but kept going along our newly discovered route home, and were back at the apartment a little after nine. Wow! Karen and I were out on the town until after nine o’clock!

Yesterday, Monday, was a return to beautiful Valencia weather: mostly sunny and 20 to 22C. I ran, down to the river, along it to IVAM and out, then through Carmen back to the apartment. Later, after I’d showered, we walked over to the Mercado Centrale to buy veggies.

Pensive jamon seller

It’s quite a different kind of experience from Rusaffa, where we shopped last week. The Rusaffa market’s more neighbourhood-y ambience reminds me of the old Covent Garden in London, although it’s a bigger market. The Mercado Centrale is even bigger, huge, in fact – reputedly the largest covered market in Europe. Most of the “stalls” are more substantial and permanent-looking than the ones in Rusaffa. And there are way more tourists. 

It’s a big draw for visitors because the building itself, with its modernista stylings and stained glass dome, is so attractive and architecturally significant. It’s also right in the centre of things. And did I mention that it’s eno-o-o-rmous. We heard lots of English spoken, and there was at least one school group and another tour group.

We were tempted by much, though not the fish pictured above, apparently Labrador cod. There were very attractive little fruitcups with fresh cut strawberries and bananas or grapes or pineapple for €1.50. A few stalls had what we at first took to be huge piles of fresh green peas in the pod, but later realized were Habas Valenciana, the pale green broad beans, something like Lima beans, used in traditional paellas. (There were fresh green peas in the pod at some stalls as well, but they were twice the price of the habas.) We ended up with fairly boring purchases: bok choy, carrots and little potatoes. And headed home for lunch.

Habas Valenciana, the Lima-like beans used in traditional paella

In the afternoon, we walked over to Rusaffa – yes, again – where we could see more progress on the Fallas preparations. But no sign yet of any of the Fallas statues. The last time we were here, four years ago, it seemed they were building the statues for a couple of weeks ahead of the official planta, the date at the beginning of the festival week (March 12) when all the communities are supposed to have their statues in place. But nothing yet this year.

We walked around Rusaffa, scouting for Friday lunch restaurants, and then headed over into the centre. I was in search of a shoe shop I’d spotted on one of our walks a couple of weeks ago. I had seen a pair of on-sale boots in the window when the shop was closed for siesta that I liked the look of – €89, down from €165. It was well after 4 in the afternoon at this point, but the shop was still closed, didn’t open till five. Karen was tired so we went home, by bicycle.

We've noticed more shops selling Fallas costumes, including this one on a street near our old apartment in Rusaffa

I had noticed on the afternoon walk that my right foot was sore, an arch problem. It got steadily worse, to the point I was limping a little at the end of our walk. Hence the bikes to get home. It stiffened up over the evening, and I could still feel it this morning. I’ll test it this afternoon when we go out, but am concerned. If I can’t walk far, that will put a serious crimp in our activities. I have no idea what it might be: possibly from running on too-hard surfaces, or some little slip of the foot I didn’t even notice at the time.

We had a long-ish Skype with Caitlin and then settled in for the evening.