Sunday Febuary 26th
Sunday, February 26th, 8 p.m., Torre y Puente de los Serranos:
On this night, we ate dinner at the apartment of our friend Sol. She is the first person we met in Valencia, through a volunteer organization called Servas (go to the related link to learn more about Servas). Sol had invited us to stay at her place for a couple days while we investigated the city and decided if this was the place we wanted to stay. Now that we had found an apartment and gotten settled, it was nice to be included at a friendly dinner party. She and her partner Candido suggested we might like to see the first big fireworks display that evening after desert.
We were driven most of the way to the Tower Bridge by her friend, Victoria. Even though the official start wouldn’t be until Tuesday, the first of March, Valencianos couldn’t wait that long for the fireworks to begin. As we walked toward the tower, we could see the crowd gathering, but couldn’t comprehend the number of people until we neared the bridge, El Puente de Los Serranos. It was completely blocked, filled with spectators.
Once we had gotten as near as possible, we could just barely make out the Tower (a remnant of the ancient city gate) and the stage in front of it. When the performance started with a few fireworks and the burning of something that may have been a “Falla”, or sculpture, I thought the main event was only someone giving a speech, or something boring like that. We walked to the closest, unblocked bridge (the foot bridge was closed by the Police), crossed over The River (El Rio), which is actually a long park running through the city, and started to head home. About half way between that bridge and the Tower Bridge, the real show started.
At first, it was just the “normal” fireworks we’d seen on the Fourth of July in Seattle, and at various other places. Suddenly, the air burst open with a shower of sparks in the dark sky, followed by burning embers raining on our heads! We were inclined to move out of the path of falling debris, but the sight was so spectacular, we were rooted to the spot. I asked my mom for the camera, and started to take a movie of the explosions, but ash got in my eye, so I couldn’t actually see what I was filming. Just as I’d put away the camera, the finale started, and it was all I could do to stare open–mouthed (which helps your ears by making the sound vibrations go out your mouth) as the sky filled with multi-colored blossoms of fire.
The last event was the most colossal: huge columns of white fire spewed up from the riverbed and exploded with the most tremendous noise I had ever heard. Then the smoke came our way, and we were forced to flee in the direction of our apartment. Even though I got debris in my eye, and smoke in my mouth and nose, I was very much looking forward to the festivities that would continue for the next month.
On this night, we ate dinner at the apartment of our friend Sol. She is the first person we met in Valencia, through a volunteer organization called Servas (go to the related link to learn more about Servas). Sol had invited us to stay at her place for a couple days while we investigated the city and decided if this was the place we wanted to stay. Now that we had found an apartment and gotten settled, it was nice to be included at a friendly dinner party. She and her partner Candido suggested we might like to see the first big fireworks display that evening after desert.
We were driven most of the way to the Tower Bridge by her friend, Victoria. Even though the official start wouldn’t be until Tuesday, the first of March, Valencianos couldn’t wait that long for the fireworks to begin. As we walked toward the tower, we could see the crowd gathering, but couldn’t comprehend the number of people until we neared the bridge, El Puente de Los Serranos. It was completely blocked, filled with spectators.
Once we had gotten as near as possible, we could just barely make out the Tower (a remnant of the ancient city gate) and the stage in front of it. When the performance started with a few fireworks and the burning of something that may have been a “Falla”, or sculpture, I thought the main event was only someone giving a speech, or something boring like that. We walked to the closest, unblocked bridge (the foot bridge was closed by the Police), crossed over The River (El Rio), which is actually a long park running through the city, and started to head home. About half way between that bridge and the Tower Bridge, the real show started.
At first, it was just the “normal” fireworks we’d seen on the Fourth of July in Seattle, and at various other places. Suddenly, the air burst open with a shower of sparks in the dark sky, followed by burning embers raining on our heads! We were inclined to move out of the path of falling debris, but the sight was so spectacular, we were rooted to the spot. I asked my mom for the camera, and started to take a movie of the explosions, but ash got in my eye, so I couldn’t actually see what I was filming. Just as I’d put away the camera, the finale started, and it was all I could do to stare open–mouthed (which helps your ears by making the sound vibrations go out your mouth) as the sky filled with multi-colored blossoms of fire.
The last event was the most colossal: huge columns of white fire spewed up from the riverbed and exploded with the most tremendous noise I had ever heard. Then the smoke came our way, and we were forced to flee in the direction of our apartment. Even though I got debris in my eye, and smoke in my mouth and nose, I was very much looking forward to the festivities that would continue for the next month.
posted by Mark and Margot at 7:41 AM
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