Last night was my first time exploring the Barcelona night life, which, to this point, had been hyped up. I have to say, everything I had heard was true – the citizens of Barcelona are pretty crazy and it was definitely an experience. We didn’t leave the house until around 11, which is around the typical time people start to head out, if not earlier than most people. Chessie, Thea and I met up with Megan, Shane and two of Chessie’s friends from school, Meg and Kelly and also one of Kelly’s friends, a guy named Sante. The first place we went to was a bar named Chupitos that we had heard about from other IES students. When we got there it was too full so we had to start a line outside, we only waited for about 5 minutes before a pretty large group left so we could go in.
They should have made us wait longer. There had to be a million fire hazards in that place, people were packed shoulder to shoulder. Not to mention almost every drink was set on fire. There was also a black light in there so I was feeling pretty cool about my glowing teeth and pretty regretful of my black shirt. You never really know what kind of crap is on your black clothing until you go in a black light. Almost everyone had worn black too so at least I wasn’t the only one who looked like I didn’t know how to wash my clothes.
We stayed compacted into Chupitos for quite some time before we decided we kind of felt like being able to move our limbs and breathe a little bit. Sante started directing us to a discoteca he had heard about called ‘Moog’. We must have walked for like 20 minutes down Las Ramblas before finding it. Let me tell you, Las Ramblas during the day = fun, pretty, colorful, cool Las Ramblas at night = scary, ugly, prostitutes, diseases. We were waiting to get into Moog when this mullet/rat tail/fauxhawk came bursting out of the doors calling out some other chico for a fight. This is when I began to reconsider choosing ‘Moog’. Not to mention it costs 10 Euros to get inside and I’m not some kind of Rockefeller over here. Meg, Megan and I decided to head back – leaving Thea, Chessie and Sante to ‘Moog’ (Shane had left after Chupitos). We walked back down Las Ramblas, dodging the groping hands of men trying to sell us beer on the street, and eventually made it home safe and sound around 3:30am. Chessie and Thea didn’t get back until 6am, which is a typical Barcelona night out time to get home. Thea met a Spanish chico at the discoteca that they ended up at. His English is quite poor and her Spanish is worse. They talk in broken Spanglish, which is the language of love after all.
We all woke up at the crack of 2pm today and lazed around for the most part, went to Plaza Catalunya to window shop for a while before coming back. Sandra must have the weekend off because she left and hasn’t been back in 2 days. Thought she never told us where she was going. We are pretty much on our own in the apartment for most of the day, except for the fact that our rooms get cleaned and our food is cooked and waiting for us when we get home. Our Signora should be coming home this week and then things will be different. I don’t think Marta will be cooking for us anymore because Antonia (our signora) will do it. Tonight when we got back and the dinner was set on the table, there was pizza, salad, and pasta with parmesan and a fried egg. Curious.
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