BUNOL, Spain – On the last Wednesday of August 2026, tens of thousands of travelers and festival-goers flooded the tiny eastern Spanish town of Buñol, ready to take part in the world’s largest and most iconic food battle: the annual La Tomatina tomato fight. Organizers prepared to unleash 165 tons of soft, overripe tomatoes for the hour-long chaotic celebration, transforming the town’s narrow streets into a sea of bright red pulp by the end of the event.
Local authorities and residents take specific precautions ahead of every festival, covering every building along the fight route with heavy waterproof tarps to protect structures from sticky tomato residue. The event carries a long, storied history dating back to an impromptu street food fight that broke out among local young people in 1945. What began as a spontaneous outburst of community fun grew into a beloved yearly tradition, until it was banned entirely in the 1950s during the dictatorship of General Francisco Franco. It was not until the 1980s, when widespread televised coverage brought the quirky festival to national attention, that La Tomatina grew into a global cultural attraction drawing visitors from across the world.
This year, organizers expect more than 20,000 participants to squeeze into Buñol’s fight zone. Data from Spanish national news agency EFE shows that over the past three years, nearly 40 percent of attendees have been international tourists traveling to Spain specifically for the event. In recent years, the festival has seen a dramatic surge in visitors from India, a shift widely traced to the 2011 Bollywood blockbuster *Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara* (You Only Live Once). The film, which follows three friends on a Spanish road trip for a final bachelor party, includes a famous scene recreating La Tomatina, introducing the iconic festival to millions of Indian moviegoers.
That pop culture introduction was what brought 27-year-old Mumbai clothing business owner Romail Khokhar to Buñol for his third La Tomatina on Wednesday. Waiting for the fight to kick off, Khokhar shared his enthusiasm for the one-of-a-kind event: “I feel really great, actually. It’s the best festival that I ever had, and I enjoy a lot here.”
La Tomatina’s global fame has inspired copycat tomato-flinging events across six continents, with similar celebrations held in cities including Florida, London, Amsterdam, the Colombian town of Sutamarchán, and Hyderabad, India. None, however, match the scale and legacy of the original event in Buñol.
To keep the day as safe as possible, event organizers enforce only one core rule: all participants must squash their tomatoes before throwing them to reduce the risk of injury from hard, solid fruit. Even with that rule, most attendees come prepared, wearing disposable swimming goggles and earplugs to block out sticky pulp and acidic juice. Non-local participants are required to purchase a 15-euro (approximately $17.50 USD) entry ticket, which helps organizers manage crowd sizes and fund cleanup operations after the event.
After exactly 60 minutes of chaotic throwing, a single cannon blast signals the end of the fight. Participants then head to communal public showers set up around the town to wash off tomato juice and pulp, while municipal crews move in to spray down the entire street with high-pressure hoses. Surprisingly, while tomato stains often set permanently on clothing, the citric acid found in tomato juice acts as a natural cleaning and degreasing agent, leaving Buñol’s streets cleaner than they were before the festival began.