Simply Sitges... (oh how I'd love to go back!)
We crouched down together; pressed tight. Rows of shoulders and backs in front of me. Hats pulled down, scarves wrapped around faces. A whiff of singed hair; slightly metallic. The hot rocks rained down with a gentle hiss- we all squealed. I saw a few land on a shoulder next to me; I watched in fascination as the small reddish bead of ash ate its way through the thin material until it touched pink flesh. We squatted deeper into our huddle. The smell of of gunpowder hung in the air and clung to our clothes, filtered through our hair in wisps of pale blue smoke. We all edged closer like a colle...
Source: bradtguides.com