We can’t get enough of festivals with missiles. Throw everything at everyone, we say. If you caught our last blog about these smorgasbords of chucking, then you will be pleased to have seven more of these moments of annual flinging madness.
Smigus Dyngus, Poland
The biggest water fight in Europe occurs in Central Europe and involves the entire country of Poland. Hungary, Czech Republic and Slovakia have similar smaller celebrations, but the daddy is Poland. Some say the celebration pre-dates Christianity and nobody really knows what the point is, but either way, wherever you go, you’re likely to get absolutely covered in water by some mischievous scamp – they’ll even rush into buses and drench commuters with buckets. Smigus Dyngus – silly name, serious business.
La Raima, Pobla del Duc, Spain
Around three quarters of the inhabitants of La Pobla del Duc in the Valencia region of Spain are involved in winemaking and agriculture. To celebrate their vinous traditions, at the end of August they cover each other in grapes for a day. And why not? Approximately 40 tonnes of grapes are used and after all the grapes are crushed and smooshed everywhere, there’s a big dance.
Ivrea Festival, Turin, Italy
You know what would be awesome? Recreating a medieval battle from 1194 with squishy oranges instead of sharp weapons, that’s what. This is what the canny people of Ivrea like to do, a town close to Turin in Italy. There are even carriages carrying the “emperor” whom you can pelt. It’s surprisingly organised, and people who want to take part have to join a team, while those who wish to just observe have to wear red hats to avoid a citrus in the face.
Fiesta de Cascamorras, Granada, Spain
Hundreds of years ago, a man called Cascamorras from Gaudix found a buried statue of the Virgin Mary in neighbouring Baza. He told his fellow Guadix townspeople about it who insisted he bring it to them. But when Cascamorras tried, the people of Baza foiled him and chased him out of town, flinging rubbish and dirt at him. To celebrate this history linking the towns, a chosen symbolic Cascamorras tries to run into Baza each year and reach the church without getting covered in dirt flung by the town’s residents. He never manages it, and nor do the hundreds of other people who also try to do the same.
Boryeong Mud Festival, Korea
Mud, glorious mud. Made popular in the middle ages by the general lack of hygiene but given a hip new look during the 1960s at Woodstock, today’s best use of it is definitely in Boryeong in Korea. Originally conceived as a way of promoting the local mud cosmetics from the Daecheon coastal area, the festival attracts millions of people each year. There’s a whole fortnight of events other than all the mud fighting, including mud slides, mud pools, mud skiing and anything else your imagine dares to think of that might be even vaguely mud-related.
Bolas de Fuego, Nejapa, El Salvador
Goodness gracious, great balls of fire! Most fire jugglers tend to chuck their wares at a vertical angle, making sure that passersby only marvel at the flames, rather than get too close. But safety concerns disappear at the end of August in Nejapa, where for over two centuries people have been doing madcap and frankly reckless things with fire. It looks like a riot, but it’s all in good fun.
Batalla de Ratas, El Puig, Spain
On the last Sunday of January, there’s nothing quite like throwing frozen rats at your neighbours. The Battle of the Rats is not a lost scene from The Wind in the Willows, but an annual nightmare for musophobics. It starts off innocently enough, with locals breaking open cucanas, or piñatas, full of fruits, nuts and sweets. Macabrely, half these goodies are frozen rat corpses, a reference to the rats that used to steal all the food when the cucanas-breaking tradition began. Now it’s less about the food and more about chucking rodents. Lovely.
Featured image Boryeong Mud Festival, Korea by mudfestival.or.kr
