28 days later

I'm so traumatised after the fire festival that I can hardly type. I'd better let the pictures speak for me. 
At first my trepidation was calmed by the sight of a nice brass band. Very civilised. 

Then I saw this weird Virgin statue marching by, growing eeriely green up close. I never knew Mary liked neon so much. 

Then as we walked further I saw that the entire field was on fire. Not just in one place, but huge separate fires with rivers of it running between. I'm not surprised that five years ago it bled to the village and burned down a few houses.
It looked like the world was ending. Groups of people with scarves covering their mouths were running about between the fires. They looked like they were just making trouble, but my hosts assured me that they were looking to see if they could see the image of the Virgin in the fire (as legend goes).

We followed the brass band and the procession back to the village. Oh what's this? Now fire just in the street. Why not?

 Even more disturbing they had a stage afterwards in the town square and these beauties got crowned as Miss Fuente el Saz. Eurgh.

I think it was no wonder I was craving crumpets the next day. This would never happen in Lutterworth. Shame I had to make do with three kit kats I found in a drawer.