It took me two or three days of being in Barcelona before I was ready to REALLY go out at night… and Ole (the language school I went to) organizes a weekly gathering where everyone meets at a spot in town and then two of the teachers take us to some venue (that the school gets a commission from heheheh) – frankly as a teacher, I hope they get paid a lot… though I suspect not!!
NIGHT ONE
Anyway I was kinda dreading that first night, already feeling somewhat antique at home I thought that going could actually trigger immediate bone calcification and senility. I had a picture 15-20 ex-student-age-gente and I staggering into a bar and crawling home… well it turns out there were at least 40 gente some as old as treinta (30) – I pretty much clung to my housemates… at least for a while.
We went to a theatre/bar called “L’Antic Teatre” it had two terraced areas and an inside bar… given the size of most venues I guess this was one of the few where we’d actually fit! I met a few of the people the gals already knew and then started chatting to Valerio and Paola. But on this night I mainly talked with Valerio who is an Italian language student who was always so generous in helping me with my Spanish… one arvo we did a language exchange… but that’s a whole other story!
Naomi was muy bored – no dancing! The rest of us chatted and I drank mojitos – have I told you how they make them here – the usual sugar, ice, lime and mint but then they free-pour the rum … usually close to half the glass. FUCKING YUM – a little dangerous but…!
Anyway I staggered off to get my second mojito and took a photo of a poster because I thought about coming back to see a show – local arts blah blah blah! The barman tapped me on the shoulder and introduced me to the woman behind me – she was the writer and performer in the show. We had a great chat/flirt and then I looked around and the venue was shutting. Yoikes. Promised I’d come to the show (more about that later). I didn’t join the others who were off to find some dancing but headed home. Really happy with my ability to speak Spanglish … remember I am talking about night 4 or 5 of my time in Barcelona.
It was close to midnight – I jumped on the first metro train that pulled in. Joder – it was the wrong line… got off next stop.. changed trains got off at right stop. Walked in THE DARK ON MY OWN – smiled at those I passed, saw a woman talking in an animated fashion to a tree – guess mental health is an issue here too – got closer and realized her partner was pissing against said tree and was talking back.
NIGHT TWO
I discovered that the Buskers Festival was on so this time it was my turn to drag dos companeros de piso (Naomi and Ana) out to Barcelonetta – the local beach where there would be 10 stages of buskers. When we arrived it was just a bit before dusk… I saw some contemporary interpretive Flamenco but didn’t stay to watch too long cos me companeros de piso were not too interested we headed on.
An awesome salsa band. We tapped feet, gyrated hips and admired the view… when they finished we moved on again.
This time a folky chick duo – their harmonies were great but their sound equipment was shit and so they were almost inaudible unless a kind sea breeze blew their music in your direction.
What I was already really loving was the crowd… todas las edades (all ages), genders, “types” and mucho mucho perros (dogs) J,
We saw several more bands vibrant and interactive, performative and multicultural – AWESOME. I loved watching people dance - I've included the dodgy shot of the couple in yellow cos they were so into the night and so into each other that they opitimized the moment - and the conga line at one performance was a spontaneous bonus.
The last act we “saw” (actually you couldn’t see it, it was too crowded) was a massive drum band. Heart thumping, feet thumping, fire twirling excitement.
I bought last years cd… cos I didn’t have the dinero (cash) on me for this years ;(... can't work out how to upload a soundtrack for ya... yet.
NIGHT THREE
The next Ole night – we headed out into the world with dark ominous clouds looming. When we emerged from the metro at our destination it was pissing with rain … absolutely bucketing! We huddled under restaurant umbrellas… this time there were only 25 or so folk. But some older folk too! Laurie who was in my class – fucken funny French chick who I hope to catch up with when in France, Paco, also from my class, and his wife both Canadians who were great to meet, Daniel, also a lovely guy from my class, who lives in Stockholm. Other notables met – or gotten to know better - on this night were Ian from England and Jan (as in yarn not the chick name) … also from England.
A moment about Jan – he will die when he reads this – when I had previously seen iPhone photos of him hangin out and clubbin with Naomi and Melanie and other young blonde chicas I thought "what a sleaze" – he is younger than me but not thaaaat much ... but on meeting him I discovered a lovely, funny guy with a brain and conscience– thank fuck!
Anywhooo back to the night. We waited for ¾ of an hour and a big no-show from the teachers.. what they’re afraid of a bit of rain? So Ian directed us to a pub he’d liked on another of these nights… “The Manchester”. Pardone, ¿Estamos en España o en Inglaterra? But we went and they played trashy 80’s music – everything from The Smiths, The Cure, The Bangles, The Petshop Boys… felt like I was in a gay bar … or my loungeroom!
frm left: Johanna, Paco, Jan, Jan (again!), The Virgin (see below), Laurie, Paco's wife who's name I've forgotten (sorry!), Naomi, Anna and Melanie
Well I must say I was in fine form flitting about drinking mojitos – for those that read facebook posts this is the night referred to as me being muy comico. The woman who I've labelled The Virgin was actually introduced to me by Laurie (with her French accent) as The Belgian... but that's not what I heard! It was also from this night (I think) that I earned the nick-name "Paula Noche" ie por la noche... keep your eyes peeled for my next performance. I think I’ve mentioned before the free-pour the mojitos and they taste great and… well was mucho fun
The décor in the venue was full of all the accouterments to make it seem English but in a very camp/Spanish way… I loved the record player that was just twirling and twirling without a hint of vinyl!
NIGHT FOUR
Nyaw… we had a farewell night for Melanie and Naomi… the usuals were there Ana, Daniel, Rohn, Ian, Jan and Johannah. We went to tapas, while most people liked it, too much was friedo and potatas and nachos (!) and mal curry(!) The venue was lovely but muy toursitico I mean what tapas bar serves no anchovies!
Then I had a huge debate with Ian – who called me an extremist radical lefty cos I wanted to imagine a world without borders (not saying it’s easy to achieve but an ideal to aspire to). He on the other hand espoused @#$*& - erm other - dogma about “them” – I think especially, but not exclusively Muslim... anything not so "western", “do you want to have to live like them” etc golly can’t bare to repeat it… others got somewhat uncomfortable as I sat calmly continuing to argue but without taking any of the shit that was being espoused. I guess in this sad world I might be “extremist” – nothing like throwing meaningless tags in a pathetic attempt to nullify an actual argument.
Talking of right-wing racist dogma, how is Australian politics going?
Sigh
After the conversation was diffused we headed out and wandered the streets til we staggered into a small bar/dance place where I danced to more daggy eighties and reggae and early nineties stuff some remixes while Ian tried to hit on Ana (don’t do it Ana!). I was intrigued by one of the djs… but that’s all I can say and I really liked the venue it was underground and like a weird little cave – unfortunately after a couple of hours the smokiness got to me and I had to run away.
NIGHT FIVE
I found out there was another music festival – bollards and posters are this gals best friend, I take photos of them then take them home and try to decipher them, then google them then… go! I decided I wanted a night out on my own – some contemporary jazz followed by tapas and then that play – how cultured of me eh?
The venue was amazing. And, I really liked the jazz... it was just an hour long concert but they did some magic with the piano and sax. Some odd breathy playing and actually reaching in and plucking strings of the piano – were moments I remember. Even though it was a formal venue the musicians came out in scruffy t-shirts etc. Some people clearly loved the music, some fell asleep!Found a little bar tucked away and had a beautiful glass of red – don’t ask me what, I never know. I also had this sensational warm tuna dip thing – rico!
Then I toddled off to see this piece of theatre. Ordered a drink and asked about tickets… only prob the actress had just called in sick and was cancelling the show – joder! Oh well finished my drink wandered the streets and went home… never did get to see the play – wasn’t enough time!
NIGHT SIX
As it happens a local festival was on for my last week in Barcelona – kinda like the Brunswick music festival in that it was in the suburb I’d chose to live in and there was music – but kinda not cos it totally rocked everynight. It was packed ALL the streets had stages every night… it celebrated Catalunyan culture and I was looking forward to it as soon as I heard about it.
I told a few folk and we arranged to meet up. When we emerged from the station the streets were absolutely teeming with people. We found our friend but then waited as they waited for other friends… then we walked half a block to wait to meet some of their friend’s friends - bought a mojito … then we walked two blocks meet some of their friend’s friend’s friends and so on – they primped they posed they flirted… they’re all 20ish. Joder!
We’d been at the festival for 2 hours and skillfully avoided seeing anything. Basically I cracked it and said I was too old to be bothered waiting around for . It was great watching – again all ages mix and have fun, people drink but no-one (local) gets embarrassingly drunk. The streets were decorated, I bought some earrings at a local jewelry makers stall. There was a salsa band on. It was hot, sweaty and really fun. I kept fanning this toddler as we danced. She got a little fixated and when I left she chased me – oops in the big crowd we had to find her mama… we did.
Just as I arrived at the Metro to catch the last train home (1am that night) I ran into the friends I’d arrived with – amazing given the size of the crowd. What was equally amazing was the numbers of people arriving for the festa on the last train. The Spanish don’t get enough sleep… even with a siesta!
NIGHT SEVEN
On my second last night I was pretty crook with a head cold thing – coughing, sneezing and feverish… but determined to go out for tapas and some more festa. It was a smaller crew – Ana, Johanna, Thomas, Emre, Jan and his partner, Hermana. We found a cute tapas place with appropriately aloof management and ordered chatted etc.
What was funny for me was that all of them had FAR superior Spanish yet I was the one who made most of the attempts to communicate … often while they argued about how to say something! Basically don’t give a shit about getting it wrong (which I often do) cos it just leads to laughter and friendlier camereros!
It also led to finding myself face first in the (augmented) breasts of a tranny as we were about to leave the bar. I’m not entirely sure how! We tried to chat... but her very thick Venezuelan accent inhibited me getting her English and by then my Spanish had evaporated … down her cleavage I suspect!
There was mucho mucho lluvia (rain) and we were already late to meet the others at the festa… my mobile wasn’t working and I was truly fading.. feeling not at all well. I decided to cut my losses and head home – the others were undecided but came as far as the metro – we were all absolutely drenched! Then the rain stopped and they walked back to the fiesta. I left the metro and caught a cab deciding I wasn’t up for staying in my drenched clothes and negotiating two train lines. Another great if stilted cab conversation (I’m getting to be a master of those… soon I’ll have to learn the classic line – so is this the beginning or the end of your shift). At last I got home and had a hot hot shower. No pictures of any of it I'm afraid... I musta been outta sorts!
The next day – my last and the day of the exam I was truly unwell (as I was for most of my time in Valencia ... but that’s a whole other entry… sorry!)
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