On the night of the 23^rd of June, droves of Valencianos and visitors flock to the beaches to celebrate the festival of San Juan and the summer solstice. My friends and I joined those throngs of people and had a night that we won’t soon forget.

We headed to the beach around 8 pm, catching a bus to save us a very long walk. The buses were crowded, obviously carrying lots and lots of people over to the beach. Little did we realize that the bus was only a hint at how many people would already be there, and how many would come later. With such great numbers of people at the festival, we had been advised to only bring the bare necessities, and nothing that meant too much to us. We all left our wallets at home, save our Suma 10 cards to get us onto the bus. All jewellery, even our watches, were left home as well. My friends and I had our phones, keys, a towel each, some food and drinks, and little else. Although we knew never to leave all our stuff unattended, packing light at least meant that, should anything happen we wouldn’t have a complete and total crisis on our hands. And since the festival does have a reputation as a major spot for pickpocketing, we were happy to travel light.

Arriving at the beach, we were floored by the number of people we could see. All up and down the coastline as far as the eye can see, there were families, friend groups, vendors, and people cooking over their fires. Although it felt like there should be complete chaos with a crowd as big as this, the air was warm, and people were relaxed. We were able to find ample room for our whole group, a total of about 10 people, where we sat back, opened some drinks and our pre-packed bocadillos and took in the scenery.

A DJ played a little way down the beach from us, with a dance floor restricted only by the towels and fires of nearby groups. He played popular songs that everyone could sing and dance along to. On top of those songs were the ever-present sounds of everyone else’s music playing on their own personal speakers. No matter where you walked, you could hear music from one or more directions, adding to the aura of the whole scene and giving an air of liveliness to everything.

In and out of the water, back and forth to the dance floor, getting up and buying more food and drinks, my group was thoroughly entertained for the hours between when we got to the beach and when the traditions were to begin. Finally, at about 11:45 pm, a buzz went through the air that called people towards the water. A couple of friends and I decided to partake in the tradition of jumping over a fire. Since we hadn’t made a fire, we figured we could help ourselves to the unattended fires of other groups on our way down to the water. With the sheer number of fires, we were able to jump over not just one but at least three separate fires as we walked to the edge of the water. Exhilarated by the energy in the air and our first times jumping over fires, we ran to the water a couple of minutes before midnight, positioning ourselves far enough out from shore so we would have the best views of the fireworks.

Sure enough, when midnight came, tons of people rushed into the water to complete the tradition of jumping over seven waves. Surrounded by people and salty water, we watched as the fireworks started. Flashing in all sorts of colours, they lit up the beach for a second before fading away and leaving us to relative darkness again. We splashed in the water as everyone around us whooped and cheered. It was a moment like no other, with probably thousands of people everywhere celebrating the longest day of the year. It was a moment of joy and unity and connection that I feel speaks for the heart of Valencia, the city with so much beauty and so much excitement and fun to offer.

After getting out of the water, a friend and I briefly searched for a towel I had left with a woman at the water’s edge before I had jumped in. Quickly realizing that the chances were very slim that I would ever see my towel again, we gave up, thankful that it was only an old towel that we had lost and nothing that was more important. And, to have lost it at San Juan felt almost like a victory, as if I could go home and prove that I had had the time of my life by having to buy a new towel.

When the time came to start heading home, we realized we had no idea how to do that. The metro was closed, and even with the number of taxis that flooded the streets, every single one of them appeared to be full. The buses were running, but all of us had no internet and no idea what bus to get on. All things considered, we were still having fun despite the conundrum we found ourselves in. We decided to walk about 15 minutes down the road, away from the beach, in hopes that we could hail a taxi that hadn’t yet picked beachgoers up yet. Our plan worked; we made it home safe and sound, albeit late, covered in sand, and missing a towel. Overall, our first Festival of San Juan was an extraordinary experience that made us feel even more connected to Valencia and the people who live and visit the city. Each tradition gave us a new insight into the festival, and being there with so many people who all came for the same celebration was surreal. Next year, I hope to be able to come back, if not for the celebration, then for the sheer enjoyment of life that Valencianos value so highly.

To learn more about the Festival of San Juan in Valencia, go to: https://247valencia.com/san-juan-by-the-beach-on-june-23rd/

Report by Fiona Pacious 

Article copyright ‘24/7 Valencia’