Tomatoes

Lots of them.
They were up to my calves.

I confess,
afterwords I did have a bloody mary.

I was right by the truck when it unloaded tomatoes on the street.
To borrow a phrase:
All my Christmases came at once.

Granted, at certain memorable moments it felt like getting smacked in the face by a bunch of head circling... rubberchicken weilding stars.
Look right?
incoming left.

But it didn´t matter.
I was in a tomato fght.. a big one.
And I was a tomato weilding fiend.

I didn´t get the ham, fans...
sorry to say
the opertunity hath not presented itself.

But nobody else got it either(which makes me feel better).
The trucks interrupted things.

Crawling toward you...
Accesible first
by the ketchup laden screams of delight
somewhere that way.
The space just above the carpet of heads erupts in pulp ridden catastrophe.
A mist of tomato juice stretches the length of the street
hovering over fruit slinging limbs.
Jostling erupts,
nostalgia.
Taiwanese night markets
Franklin Street bonfires.
Riots.
A mass of juiced bodies swaving... stagger... like red tide.
Only one hour... a collective breath out,
release...
The locals hose everyone down on the way out.


the night before, I slept in the park.
but on a tarp
provided by the Italian fellas.

it reminded me of a music festival crammed into a tiny town square.
Everyone just crashed on the ground.
True to tent village form,
mass-contributed entertainment was born and did blossom and we became a small house.
acrobats and games.

Somewhere in between playing kings´s cup with the Italians, drinking with the hitchiking Poles (nicknamed "tarzan" and "shorty"), ... and wandering the streets of Barcelona with a pierced Swede....
I witnessed yet again, proof that
Connecting conquers
when it comes to humanity.
Different cultures can be savy.
This I know...
they can.

I wish I could tell all the details..
I broke my toe attempting to breakdance barefoot.
No biggie,
all you can do is tape it anyway.


I camped for free, when I shoulda paid.
drank redwine and cola.
scammed friends into the disco.
learned how to bowl for cricket.
got confident and jipped another campsite.
watched kite surfers swarm like gulls.
I strutted scars and traded tales with the most random grab bag of nomads you can imagine.


My European leg is coming to an end.
I gave it a good salut.