Diary 22. San Juan Festival

While we were parked up at the beautiful beach of our Huelva stopover, we encountered many interesting things. The first, a man from another camper, wearing nothing but underpants and then proceeding to undress and wash for all to see.


The second, three gorgeous stray dogs who can’t have been more than 2 years old, one girl (who looked like she had been weaning) and two boys. Once we confirmed they were timid, we welcomed them with some of Baileys’ biscuits and a copious amount of water, whereas we caught captain underpants throwing huge rocks at them to keep them away from their picnic. I stared him down so that he didn't do it again!


The third, was our neighbours who pulled up on the second night we stayed. They were both from Spain, had lived in London for a number of years, and were driving an Italian converted camper. 

We spoke with them about their journey, and what they did for a living on the road. The man was a website technician, and as long as the places they parked had 4G, he could work his 9-5 from the van. 

His partner was an ex-school teacher, and as such was qualified to teach English as a foreign language. She was doing so remotely, through an organisation in China which offers kids from the age of 4 to 18 the chance to learn English from a fluent English speaker, on their computers, after school. She only worked about 3 hours a day, and was getting around $20 for each half hour lesson she delivered. 

Our Parking Place at Huelva

We noted down the website and left each other to make dinner and carry on our evenings, only once we had thoroughly inspected each other's vans. They had crossed into Italy to purchase their van, as the same van in Spain would’ve cost twice as much!


The next day, they came to say goodbye before heading off to the next place with good 4G connection. Just before they left, they asked us what we were doing or where we would be on the 23rd June. We were a little puzzled by the question, but answered in the same manner we had done a hundred times to a hundred different people. The answer was "we have no idea". 

They explained that in Spain, June 23rd is the ‘Noche de San Juan’ a night of Pagan and religious origins where there are celebrations, bonfires and water rituals.


The couple told us that it was the only night of the year that bonfires and camping are allowed on the Spanish beaches, and that most towns put on a bit of a show for the occasion in which the entire community traditionally comes together to celebrate. They also let us know of a town near Granada that has water fights in the street, including the fire department and their fire hoses! 

It sounded very interesting, and we thanked them for the tip, as it’s something we would have never been aware of otherwise. We set about researching where the town near Granada was and trying to figure out if it happens on a grand scale on all beaches, or just some. 

It took at least a week of researching different tourism sites and old blogs and information from previous years online. We finally concluded that we wouldn’t be able to attend both the water fight in Lanjaron and a beach bonfire to perform the rituals of the night.


Don’t get scared, they aren’t the rituals of a cult or some kind of goat offering to the gods! 

It is said that Noche de San Juan is a superstitious night, with cleansing rituals. The bonfires often have effigies burnt on them, often of satirical political merit. The fire holds several special meanings and purposes. 

It is said that you should write down the things you don’t wish to happen in the year ahead, and throw them into the fire to be granted the freedom of them. 

It’s also said that if you jump over the embers of a San Juan bonfire 3 times, it cleanses you of ailments. 

There’s also the water part of the ritual, which is why in the coastal regions of Spain, the night is held on the beaches. It is said that once the fire has been lit, at midnight, you must bathe 3 times, some say just the feet, others the entire body, and all body parts in between. It is to purify you, and also to grant you wishes for the year ahead. 

You’ve in theory just burnt the things you wish not to happen, and must wish for things in their place. We were told that each time a wave hits you, you’re permitted to make a wish.


We'd already decided that we would be sticking to the Southern coastline of Spain, purely because it was beginning to get very hot, and the breeze from the sea was comforting of a nighttime. Armed with this new information, we did our best to research where the best beach party might be, a task which turned out to be nigh impossible. 

With the amount of days left and our average speed of travel, we calculated that we would be in the area of Malaga by the time San Juan came around. The trouble is, the free campervan parking in Malaga is almost non-existent, and we ended up in a very cramped car park, which was incredibly busy all day and night. 

Where we were parked in Malaga

Our research also concluded that where we had managed to park, the outskirts of the main town, there wasn’t a lot going on for the festival. It was all going to be on the main beach in Malaga, with a concert and all sorts of fun and games. 

Another day of research and it not getting us anywhere, we decided to see if there was any parking at all we could get into, closer to the main beach. We must’ve driven around the atrocious streets for an hour or more, trying several different places we should’ve been able to park in. Unfortunately for us, the party on the beach was to be so large that all surrounding parking spaces had be cordoned off in preparation for crew.


We drove up the mountain to the Castillo Gibralfaro as a last resort, thinking that perhaps we could park there and walk to the beach and back. Well, once we got up there, it was clear that after a beer or two we’d have no chance of climbing the mountain again. 

I got on my phone while Matt had a stress cigarette, and decided that we’d have to backtrack towards Marbella. I really didn’t want to go as far as that, and with little energy and only 2 days left until the festival, I put my finger on the map. Torremolinos.


Off we set, hoping beyond hope that we wouldn’t arrive to an inability to park. 

After a few wrong turns down some very narrow streets, we arrived at the beachfront, in a small but busy car park, half of which had been cordoned off for the festival. In some stroke of luck, one space had opened up as we made our way round the cramped space, and we vowed to get into it! 

It was a struggle, but that day Matt knew how big the van was. It’s just a shame he didn’t account for the size of us getting in and out of the doors…. still, with a little squeeze here and there, we managed to get out and have a wander around. 

Some sand art along the promenade

We could see that the stage for the festivities was already under construction, so we knew where the party would be. We walked Bailey up and down the promenade, looking at the different shops and restaurants while enjoying some artisan gelato. 

One shop which caught our eye, but was vastly overpriced, was a shop that sold products made of cork, and only cork. The entire of our van interior is cork, so we were intrigued. There were shoes, umbrellas, slippers, wallets, bookmarks and anything else you can reasonably imagine, made of cork!


We were getting quite excited for the evening ahead, as we had read so many different accounts of what happens on the night, and the fact that a feeling of community prevails. We couldn’t wait to get our mitts on an experience grounded in so much history. 

We got dressed up and treated ourselves to dinner in one of the promenade restaurants. We managed to find one of the very few which didn’t only serve fish, especially a Southern Spain delicacy of grilled fresh sardines on an outside coal fire. 

It was still fairly early, so we went for a cocktail at the beachfront fresh sushi bar, and were treated to a strange Saturday evening television show on the big screen, which looked like Jeremy Kyle for C list Spanish celebrities….. Over our huge cocktails, we enjoyed trying to translate the captions on the TV for entertainment. 

Cocktails

As midnight approached, we made our way down the beach on which we had seen the stage being set up. The band was alive and kicking on stage, and the crowd of people was steadily getting bigger. 

We went down to be closer to the sea and also to the pile of wood which would be the bonfire later in the evening. We stood around listening to a Spanish band, drinking warm beers from a backpack for what seemed like an eternity, before the bonfire was finally lit at midnight. 

We had assumed it would be lit in the lead up to midnight and we still aren’t sure if it was just forgotten, or if it is tradition! That’s when we realised that we hadn’t written down our bits of paper for the fire. 

Crowd enjoying the concert on the beach

It wasn’t until Matt had found a pen from a stranger and thrown his in already that a local who I was trying to get another pen from told us what we had to do. 

We originally thought you were meant to put your wishes in the fire and then just wash 3 times in the sea, but this local man told us it was actually our ill fate bringers we had to burn, and to make a wish on each bathe! 

Matt hastily wrote the correct things down on a napkin and hoped perhaps they would just cancel each other out. In the meantime, I’d written mine down, but the fire was so hot that I couldn’t get close enough to throw the paper in, and my burning statements ended up on the floor, next to the fire. Typical! 

All we could do was hope that if the legends are true, San Juan would have pity on us poor idiots and help us out anyway.


We then went to the water, which was uncharacteristically warm, to let the cleansing and purification begin, and made a wish every time the water hit our feet, which considering how close we were, wasn’t as many times as you’d think. Perhaps San Juan’s way of ensuring no one could wish greedily? 

After making 3 wishes

The band had started up again, but once we had stood and watched the phenomenon of people burning things on the fire and them jumping head first into the sea, our hopes for the evening just didn’t seem to have been met. 

It was magical in a sense, don’t get me wrong, and I still don’t know if we just chose a quiet beach to celebrate on, but it didn’t live up to our expectations after our readings on the event. Perhaps next year we will research where the biggest San Juan party is and celebrate there for comparison.


We decided to end our night with a romantic stroll down the beach, sticking closely to the warm water. As we wandered we came across many people with their gazebos and tents, BBQ’s glowing, sitting around and enjoying each others company with lights and music. 

Okay, maybe the night wasn’t what we had expected or hyped it up to be in our heads after all the struggle and planning, but there is definitely something magical about the night. 

Families drinking and singing together, sitting around their own fires and spending time together doing something which is only allowed on that one night of the year. It seems almost as though it was a night for them to set an example to themselves and each other, to prioritise family, and ultimately, to let their troubles burn, and allow their success to wash over them.

J x

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