October 9th, the Day of the Valencian Community, got off to a bang as soon as the clock struck midnight. On Thursday night, we grabbed a spot on Paseo Alameda for the international fireworks festival.
I’m going to make a claim which I can neither prove nor provide statistical data for, but which I believe to be true nonetheless. Valencia is the best place in the world for fireworks. If you are a fan, Valencia is your Mecca. Once in your life, you must make a pilgrimage here.
My God. An entire hour of fireworks, with one brief 5-minute intermission. Who needs an hour of fireworks? Who even wants that?! And it wasn’t boring for even a minute. Highlight after explosive highlight left our ears bloody and bruised, yet still unprepared for the ridiculous finale. It’s hard to be surprised by fireworks or to see something truly “new”, but a spinning fireworks wheel on a gigantic crane? That was new.
You know how when you see a kid who can yo-yo really well? You kind of feel awed by him… his yo-yo’ing is sweet, it requires a lot of skill, and it’s something you don’t see every day. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that the kid is a freak. A weirdo. It’s simultaneous appreciation and alienation. That’s how I feel about Valencia and its obsession with fireworks.