Last night, we went to the Tapas Festival in Benimaclet. Man, what a chore.
“Haha”, you’re thinking. “As though going to a festival with cheap beer and food could be anything but wonderful. We’re choking on the irony”.
But I’m not being ironic! Going to the tapas festival was an absolute chore. The tickets cost €5 and allowed you to have 3 drinks and two tapas. Sounds good, but actually getting the tickets required the patience of a Tibetan monk. The line was at least 13 kilometers long.
And the people selling tickets… man, I cannot understand what is so difficult about “(1) Take €5, (2) Give Ticket”. There were four dazed, bewildered workers in the booth, only one of whom was actually doing anything. My heart about popped out of my chest when an ugly woman with dreadlocks forcefully butted in front of me, gave her friend the ticket seller a kiss on the cheek, and got her ticket without waiting. And then the ticket seller gave me attitude! I’m sorry, was my disgust and hatred for your oily, hideous friend really that apparent? Just give me the fucking ticket.
And that turned out to be the easy part. This was the most disorganized, chaotic “festival” we’ve ever been to in Valencia. Getting a beer took around 45 minutes. They had one keg, which only sputtered foam. There was one wine stand. No lines, just masses of aggressive people (all as frustrated as we were) pushing their way forward.
So what can I say? The food was great and the deal is probably impossible to beat. It would’ve been great fun if (a) we’d come earlier, (b) were drunk before arriving, and (c) had a slave to wait in all the lines for us. Next year, we’ll have to arrange that.