'That's a bit early isn't it?' I said. Apparently we were going to start drinking before the chupinazo, which is the launching of the rocket at 1 pm to signify the start of the festival. And then people throw food at each other. And other things. (They should throw babies at each other too. Although that's probably illegal. Well, maybe not for the ugly ones- you need to get rid of them somehow.)
Two of the guys eventually turned up just after 11 am.
Bobi (the Guy Of Few Words- my longest conversation with him was 5 seconds long), Vero (his girlfriend) and her 7 friends from Barcelona were in the park drinking so we went and joined them. And actually he's a lot more conversational now. He told me he'd been living in Barcelona with Vero for a year for work but had come back when that finished. That conversation took maybe 20 seconds. I really like talking to him because I don't have to talk that much, we let the silence do the speaking.
Bobi had made 15 litres of zorracapote, a potent mixture of wine, sugar, cinnamon and other stuff and we'd brought 4 litres of kalimocho (wine and coke). It was boiling hot, about 30 degrees when we went to watch the chupinazo and food (+ other things) fight, which was as hilarious and disgusting as I remembered.
Javi bought another helium mascot balloon to tie around his wrist so we'd be able to find him if we got separated. In 2006 it was a shark. This time he got a girl balloon because it looked like me, he said. It's actually a very good idea, except that about 10 minutes later, he was already sucking the helium out of it and singing songs in a chipmunk voice.
(Photo: Ruben and me. NB Notice how Ruben has no beard? He had a job interview and had to shave it off) We went to the old part of town where the bars are and drank and drank. Then I got separated from everyone, but found a French guy who used to be Ruben's flatmate so I tagged around with him and his friends and ate tapas. By the time I found the others again, it was almost 6 pm. I'd told Alexis I'd be home at 6ish because he was bringing blankets over for me to use. The first night, I'd only had a sheet, so I had to use my winter coat as a blanket.
(Photo: Calle Laurel, the tapas street, packed with people.) Woke up at midnight, remembered I'd maybe agreed to go out again, so called Ruben. He had been out since he started, non-stop (although I think he went to a park and slept for half an hour, like a drunk) for more than 12 hours and was still bright and alert. There was a Cuban band playing in front of the town hall plaza which was where he and the others were.
(Photo: Some guy with his homemade portable wine flask) Afterwards we went back to the bars and drank some more. I left at around 5 am because I was catching a plane to London that day, but the others kept moving from bar to bar...
The Spanish people are insane.
Bobi had made 15 litres of zorracapote, a potent mixture of wine, sugar, cinnamon and other stuff and we'd brought 4 litres of kalimocho (wine and coke). It was boiling hot, about 30 degrees when we went to watch the chupinazo and food (+ other things) fight, which was as hilarious and disgusting as I remembered.
Javi bought another helium mascot balloon to tie around his wrist so we'd be able to find him if we got separated. In 2006 it was a shark. This time he got a girl balloon because it looked like me, he said. It's actually a very good idea, except that about 10 minutes later, he was already sucking the helium out of it and singing songs in a chipmunk voice.
(Photo: Ruben and me. NB Notice how Ruben has no beard? He had a job interview and had to shave it off) We went to the old part of town where the bars are and drank and drank. Then I got separated from everyone, but found a French guy who used to be Ruben's flatmate so I tagged around with him and his friends and ate tapas. By the time I found the others again, it was almost 6 pm. I'd told Alexis I'd be home at 6ish because he was bringing blankets over for me to use. The first night, I'd only had a sheet, so I had to use my winter coat as a blanket.
(Photo: Calle Laurel, the tapas street, packed with people.) Woke up at midnight, remembered I'd maybe agreed to go out again, so called Ruben. He had been out since he started, non-stop (although I think he went to a park and slept for half an hour, like a drunk) for more than 12 hours and was still bright and alert. There was a Cuban band playing in front of the town hall plaza which was where he and the others were.
(Photo: Some guy with his homemade portable wine flask) Afterwards we went back to the bars and drank some more. I left at around 5 am because I was catching a plane to London that day, but the others kept moving from bar to bar...The Spanish people are insane.
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