Tonight we had a warm-up to tomorrow's main event. The pages of the Wise Kings came to collect the children's Christmas letters. Volleys of fireworks heralded their arrival.
I don't know what it is about this country, but they seem to celebrate everything with fireworks. Mr B absolutely loves them. Every excuse he's off sending sparks and flaming cartwheels of flaring light into the night sky.
Our village is an old Catalan fishing village so it was only fitting that the pages and their retinues should arrive by sea. After the fireworks their flotilla of boats entered the harbour, lit by the lights of their torches. Sadly I was at the back of the crowd and struggled to capture the moment on my camera.
But soon their retinue of veiled girls and turbaned boys filed past.
More fireworks exploded into the night sky ...
... followed by a chorus of drums.
The people on the quay around us got more and more excited. They pushed and shoved, and we found ourselves being moved around by the press and movement of our neighbours.
The pages led their procession through the crowd to their specially customised tractor, which I'd photographed earlier.
Taking their places they drove off through the crowd into the village. Every now and then their cavalcade stopped to take letters from the village children outlining their gift wishes for tomorrow night.
The other people drifted after them, but we stayed behind unwilling to get caught in the crush of the crowd again.
And all the best for now,
As shared on Texture Tuesday and image-in-ing