BARCELONA 2000

While drinking in the our local, the Market Inn Pub, Brighton, someone came up with the idea of going away every year for a 'Boy's Drinking Weekend'. Barcelona was to be the destination.

On April 28th 2000, after months of waiting, it was time to go.

GETTING UP
The signal was my alarm clock, buzzing away, stirring me from my slumber, away from the Land of Dreams. 0407 hrs it read, not too bad I thought, considering I had set it for 0400 hrs.

Trying not to wake anyone, I crept about the flat organizing those last minute matters, which would ultimately made all the difference. Namely, making sure the toothbrush, the alarm clock, deodorant and passport were packed.

Once I was happy, which ultimately I was, I set forth to embark upon the journey to Barcelona, the adventure had begun.

THE DRIVE
The drive down to Dusseldorf sped by without any incident. It wasn't difficult to find the Airport; the parking wasn't a problem either.

Yes, I arrived at the wrong terminal, though I blame the 'travel booking girl' for that piece of mis-information.

Having booked in the wait was on. To pass the time I brought two books, 'Others' by James Herbert and 'The Phantom Menace' by Terry Brooks, of-which I read the first couple of chapters from each. I drank some coffee and smoked some cigarettes, before I knew it, it was time to board.

THE FLIGHT
As with the drive to Dusseldorf, the flight to Barcelona passed off without incident. Though one thing I will mention, there was an exceptionally attractive air- stewardess, serving on the plane. I had seen this particular girl walk through the Airport Terminal previously, so you can imagine my delight when I saw her again, welcoming me on. As you read further, you'll discover that exceptionally attractive women, play a pivotal role in the Barcelona 2000 weekend.

The first glance I got of Barcelona was from the plane, as the pilot made his final approach. The first thing that struck me was its size. The Mark of Man had spread its tentacles of domination, far and wide across Mother Nature's skin. The City was a sprawling collection of mighty architecture, interspersed with large areas dedicated to industry, a very impressive sight in-deed, I was even able to make out some distinctive areas, that once seen from the sky, was later able to seen on foot, specifically the Harbour.

Having said that my first impression of Barcelona from the air surpassed my expectations, my first impression of Barcelona once on ground didn't. All I saw as I walked out of the airport onto Spanish soil was an expansive car park. I just couldn't wait to get to the bosom of the city.

THE WAIT
Alas I had to wait 5 hours before that wish came true. And what a wait, I've never endured anything like it before. It was torture; there were times when I didn't think I could carry on. Roaming from one Terminal to another, just because I had nothing better to do, reading a chapter here and there. Smoking, drinking beer and coffee. At one point while at the bar, I had a drunk smelly Spaniard, chatting away to me, I had no idea what he was on about, so I did my best to dissuade him, by simply reading my book and ignoring him, an exercise that worked to no avail.

Another peculiar exchange took place as I was sat at a table drinking a coffee; a woman came up to the table and placed a card and a lighter on it then left. The lighter was in a shape of a woman, wearing a blue bikini. The card read:

I am deaf and dumb,
I sell these lighters to survive
Can you spare 500 Pesetas and purchase one.

Or words to that effect, the woman did this on all the tables; she then walked around, picking them all up again. In my case, she picked up the card, 500 Pesetas, and no lighter; in other cases she picked up the card and a lighter.

No harassment, just a civilized and respectable exchange. I was very impressed, for its something you'll never see happen in England.

The only bonus of spending 5 hours waiting was looking at all the exceptionally attractive women, for that was what kept me going.

But as it always does, time ticks away, drawing closer the moment when the boys arrive.

THE BOYS ARRIVE
1700 hrs they appeared, and what a relief it was to see them, for if the truth be known; I was on the verge of panicking. What if they don't come? What if they've already arrived and I've missed them? Where am I going to sleep tonight? I'm going to have to book myself into a hotel? The hotel is going to cost me a fortune. Where the hell are the boys? Are they coming?

Suffice to say, a hundred questions were spinning around my head, a hundred questions that disappeared in a flash, as I saw the boys walk through the glass doors, onto to elevator, waving to me in recognition. It was the happiest moment of my life!

INTO THE HEART OF BARCELONA
After the preliminary greetings, the handshakes, the hugs, we left the dreaded Terminal (well dreadful to me), and caught the bus to the heart of Barcelona. A place called Catalunya, to be precise. Looking out for the Urqinaona Hotel, our home for the weekend.

Andy did his research well, for we found it with ease.

When in our rooms, Peadar and I in one, Phil and Andy in another, we gave ourselves half an hour to get ready, before exploring.

So about 1900 hrs, all four of us, left the hotel, the adventure was underway.

FOOD
The first port of call was the 'Hard Rock Café', food. And we got food; none of us could finish all what we had on our plates. A fine feast, served by an exceptionally attractive woman (EAW), a waitress called Liz, an American living in Spain. Those waitress uniforms, damn they look good.

DRINK
Once the food was consumed, the drinking started in earnest. A pattern that dominated the weekend. Beer, lots of beer.

This was our first opportunity to marvel at the spirit, sights and sounds of the city. We wondered through the many walkways, down the many alleyways, struck by awe by the sight of the commanding presence of the Cathedral, bowled over by the gothic architecture of the Palau De La Generaitat, the area in which we now found ourselves. Though one thing I'll always remember, were the sounds. For the bells rang out tunes unlike any I have heard before. The accumulating effect, lifting my heart and soul, to an exquisitely enchanting level.

Initially finding a bar was rather difficult, because most of the places we passed were restaurants, we wanted bars, and nothing else would do.

It didn't take us long to find one, then several more.

During this time of unadulterated overindulgence, the friendship that has been so strong, that’s lasted for so long, was clearly evident. As the beer flowed, the stories, hopes, dreams, our most funny exploits, our most embarrassing actions, our most courageous deeds, all came forth. We laughed, until we nearly cried, we slapped each other on the back and said "nice try". Happy and contented in each other's company.

THE GAME OF POOL
Until that is, when Andy decided we should all play 'Pool'.

Doubles was the idea, Andy and I, against Phil and Peadar, best of three. After the first game, I said "No more".

Andy Clarke, a guy you can love but never hate.

I played a bad shot, understandable considering firstly that I was drunk, secondly that I didn't care, whether the shot was good or bad, and thirdly because bad shots just happen; you never intentionally play a bad shot. And it wasn't as if it was just I playing the bad shots, Andy equaled me all the way. But the way Andy reacted, wow; you would have thought I had just pissed into his beer bottle.

He manhandled me. Told me how to play my shots and generally berated me on my potting decisions.

I wasn't having any of it. For me the whole reason of going to Barcelona, apart from seeing the boys again, was to get away from an environment of berating, being told what to do and how to do it, of being shouted at and critized for every action. I get that at work, this was play.

So I made my feelings known.

Andy and I went onto to win 2 games to 1. The whole episode has taught me one thing; never play pool with Andy Clarke again!

THE GUY WHO TRIED TO SHAG ME
Walking down the street a young lad of about 18-19 years of age, came up to me, and appeared to shag my leg. He cocked his leg over mine and thrusted his hips back and forth. What was all that about? I do not know, though it certainly has left an unpleasant memory.

While in these bars we managed to make a few friends, the barmaid of a 'heavy meta' bar that we visited was a nice woman. The Scouse and Cuban guy we met in another, was equally nice, though the Cuban was abit, of a pain in the neck to say the least.

When 0300 hrs reared it's timely head, once the bars began to empty, it was decision time as to whether to goto bed or carry on drinking. It was an easy decision to carry. The atmosphere of the City, decided it for us.

ONWARDS TO THE HARBOUR
Onwards to the Harbour we marched, or rather stumbled. Past the Mirador De Colom, an impressive column, somewhat like Nelson Column, but 100 times more beautiful, Christopher Columbus on the top rather than Nelson, located at the bottom of Rambla, a major road linking Placa De Catalunya to the harbour.
Onto the wooden walkway towards the sights, lights, laughter and screams of the nightclubs, our final destination of the night.

THE FISH
Fish everywhere, we had not seen anything like it before it in our lives. And being that all of us are from Brighton, where we are used to harbours, we were all surprised to see fish swimming through the waters. Big ones, small ones; the sight was a joy to behold.

After spending a few minutes watching the fish, we descended upon the nightclubs.

THE NIGHTCLUBS
There were 3 clubs each in a row. And we danced, danced as if there was no tomorrow. It was just like the old times, swinging what we've got, just as we did 10 years ago in the Glouster Club, Brighton. And the guest dancers, two EAW each on a pedestal, gyrating their sexy bodies to the Latin sounds, wow the sight was breathe taking. I tried to get their attention by frantically waving, but alas they never waved back, nor did they smile, but you could see in the way that they danced, they liked me!

We were very drunk by this time, we felt good, we looked good, and we danced good. By God we were good. Shame Andy never felt the same way. For the night had taken its toll. I suppose it had something to do with his age, being that bit older than us, he just couldn't keep up with the pace.

While we danced, Andy sat outside feeling his lungs with the Spanish air, and then he disappeared. We later learnt he simply walked back.

THE LONG WALK HOME
Come 0530 hrs it was our turn to do the same, thus the long walk home began. A walk that Phil had no recollection.

Safely back at the hotel we all collapsed onto our allocated beds, deep slumbered sleep immediately following.

I managed to undress and get under the sheets, though Peadar couldn't manage such a simple task. He lay fully clothed on his bed, pulled one off my sheets over himself and slept. When I did stir him to point out the error of his ways, he just looked at me in disgust and slated me for being so ridiculous.
"Shut up Matt, this is my sheet now let me have it."

"But Pad, you're laying on your sheets, now let me have mine back."

"Shut up, Maaatt, yyour, blah blah blah", he had fallen asleep!

6 hours later I awoke with a start, thinking 'I am in Barcelona aren't I'? Looking beside me and seeing Pad clutching at my sheet, confirmed that I was.

The time was 1155 hrs, time to get up. I said this to Peadar, he only got up once I convinced him that the time really was 1155 hrs, for he was sure he had only been asleep for what seemed like 10 minutes.

After the phone call to Andy to tell him the same, the game was on. Half an hour to get ready, so we can do it all again.

THE START OF A NEW DAY
Out of the hotel, went the 4 intrepid explorers, into the bright sunshine of a new Barcelonan day.

The plan was to find somewhere to have breakfast, look about the city, and of course drink some more beer. An easy task if it wasn't for the hangovers that then invaded upon Peadar and Phil. Peadar had to leave the shop to get some fresh air, worrying that he maybe sick, Phil just simply, very nearly, fell asleep at the table. Though thankfully our consumed breakfast stayed down, we were fed and watered, the adventure could continue unabated.

The first point of interest that we came along was outside the Cathedral. For prancing about were a group of dancers, some were dancing on an erected stage; others were practicing their dance moves on the ground. It was a nice sight, considering all the EAW's, and funnily enough, while watching television that night, on came the dancers; a camera crew had obviously been there and caught on film what we saw with our own eyes.

After milling about the square, we continued our journey down towards the harbour. Again we marveled at the architecture of Barcelona, simply indulging in the sights, smells and sounds of the city.

THE PUB CRAWL CONTINUES
It wasn't long until we came across a bar, where we immediately sat ourselves down and ordered 4 beers, clever-Peadar could even order in Spanish. What a beautiful bar it was too, we sat outside, the sun was shining, the view of the harbour before us, peaceful and contented in the company of good friends.

Then onto the harbour itself, where surprise surprise we found another bar to rest our weary bodies only to order another 4 beers. Though this bar was a little different than the rest. It was a boat!

THE RULES
It was here that we discussed our adventure and came up with some rules. Firstly we'll go away every year over the last weekend of April. Secondly that we'll only go to a place that no one has been before. Two rules that will last a lifetime. Incidentally it was here that we decided that the 2001 adventure would be at Rome.

BY THE BEACH
We continued down to the beach, where I took the pleasure of tipping my toe into the Mediterranean Sea, a pleasure that I've never enjoyed before.

While at a bar, over looking the Sea, a young boy inadvertently threw his ball high into the leafage of a nearby palm tree. Suffice to say his ball got well and truly stuck. We all laughed as we watched the boy try and shake the mighty palm tree, in a vain attempt at dislodging it. We watched further as himself, his brother and father tried throwing a bottle of water into the leaves, yearning to hit the ball back to the ground. Sadly they eventually left the scene without success. But to give credit where credit is due, they didn't half try!

THE MEAL
The day was getting late; it was time for food, and plenty of it. So we stopped at a restaurant not far from the beach, a lovely looking Spanish eating-place, we sat outside as the Spanish flow of life, speed past us.

I ordered Sea Bass along with Peadar, Phil lamb, Andy Monk-fish, and I must say that when the meals arrived I was far from impressed. Though the atmosphere was pleasant, and all in all we had a good meal.

When it came to paying the bill, I placed a 5000 Peseta note onto the tray, Peadar picked it up and then in front off everyone placed it back down saying "There you are guys, here's my share."

The problem being, everyone believed him, it took me long enough to persuade Andy and Phil otherwise.

With the meal consumed we decided it was time to head back to the hotel, get ready again for another night in the city. The walk back was just too much, so we caught the metro. We had to queue up for the ticket, Andy was getting impatient, he was trying to get us to jump over the ticket barriers, a fair assumption considering that while we waited in the queue about half a dozen people did just that.

We enjoyed one last beer before eventually returning to the hotel, the conversation that followed was about politics, and as always when we talk about politics, the discussion became heated.

Now to put the record straight, one of the contentions of the discussion was that Peadar believed it to be a duty for a citizen to vote, he became despaired with me when I said I never voted at the last election. The truth is I did, I voted for Labour and only tell people that I never because I'm ashamed I did.

Though with that aside, back to the adventure.

ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE CITY
We made it back to the hotel, where the plan was to have half an hour rest, before going out and doing it all again.

The plan would have worked well, if it wasn't for Phil and Peadar falling asleep as soon as their backs hit the bed. Phil recovered but Peadar was still laid out, we tried to reason with him to get up, to get with the program, Andy even tried wrestling him of the bed, but it was Phil's quick thinking, as he up lifted the bed, slipping Andy and Peadar onto the floor that finally got Peadar on his feet.

It was now my last night in Barcelona; the others were scheduled to leave a few days later. I was determined to go out and have a good time, simply carrying on where we left off.

MORE BEER
More beers in more bars. Peadar was failing at this point, for we had to work hard on keeping him focused. He was nearly sleeping while sitting at the table, though after a few coffees he seemed to recover.

We had a drink in one particular bar, where when Andy ordered the drinks, the barman returned with 4, litre and a half glasses shaped as boots, filled with beer. I haven't seen anything like it; I just thanked my lucky stars that it was Phil's round!

THE DEN OF INIQUITY
We were again on the main road called Rambla, making our way to the Harbour. The harbour being our favorite place. When we happened to pass a sordid den of iniquity, the entrance fee of 2000 Pesetas didn't deter us in the slightest, down the sleazy stairs we went.

My first 'Strip Show', I just didn't know what to expect. Though what I did see certainly surpassed my expectations.

A woman dressed as a nun who did the most seductive striptease I've ever seen, and who then magically brings out a vibrator from her bible, to do things to her body, that would make most women scream. It was great!

Another stripper who volunteered someone from the audience, stripped him completely on stage, and then covered his manhood with whipped cream, tied tissue around it, sticking the rest of the tissue up his bum, before leaving the stage, with the volunteer left standing. Now that was funny!

We just had to leave after the fourth striptease; it was getting too much for us, valuable drinking time was being lost.

We again visited the same nightclubs that we visited the previous night, moved our bodies about the dance floor, not a lot, I for one was feeling the drain. So we left to return earlier than before.

THE NIGHT COMES TO A CLOSE
Once back at the hotel and once after putting Peadar's bed back to its original place, we all succumbed to the inevitable and fell into the blackness of drunken sleep.

Roughly 3 hours later I was up, I woke Peadar up who kindly walked me to the bus stop where I caught the bus back to the airport. My Barcelonan adventure was coming to an end. The curtain was being drawn. I never got to say goodbye to Phil and Andy, though in a friendship like ours, there aren't ever any goodbyes.

The bus ride passed without incident, as with the flight. My car was safe and sound, in the same spot where I left it. A charge of DM 117 allowed me to drive it away.

I was back in Germany, Barcelona now only a memory, but a memory to last a lifetime.

 

© Copyright 2007 Matthew Taylor

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