Carnaval mayhem and stealing chocolates from Juanes
Aside from calling an ambulance (and possibly feeling up a half-dressed gladiator), Tuesday night and Carnaval turned out to be relatively tame. We (or actually I to be more precise, but I'll get to that later) took a train to Sitges, which is about 30 minutes away from Barcelona. Turns out I was late to the train station because I realized at the last minute the memory card in my camera was about full and had to load the pictures onto my laptop before leaving. Anyhow, by the time I got there and got in line to buy my ticket, the train had already left, and my wonderful friends didn't bother to wait for the next train for me. And because of the wonderful mobile service here, my text messages to them arrived too late for them to realize that I was on another train ten minutes behind and to wait for me there. The result? Me wandering around in the rain trying to decifer Joey's instructions to take a right at the station, walk to the beach, and find the church. Finally he just had to meet me at the station because it was impossible to find where they were.
After we finally met up with the rest of the group, took a couple of shots at the bar, and took to the streets. Arturo thought it would be a good idea to steal a handle of Bacardi from the bar, which he did. Dude dresses up as a pirate, gets a little alcohol in him and thinks he's invincible. ("Man, I just grabbed that girl's ass and just held on for like 5 minutes!" Great, that's why that chick was looking at me weird...)
There was a ton of confetti on the ground, which mixed with the rain and dirt made a lovely sludge for stomping through. Even walking in wet shoes and socks it was actually pretty fun with the streets packed with loud Spaniards all singing the same Carnval song, music in the streets, packed bars and clubs, people pissing on the beach. We didn't make it 100 meters (look at me being European) away from the first bar before downing most of the stolen Bacardi between all of us. One of the girls was having a little too much fun -- we should have known what was coming when she slipped and fell about three times before laying down for good, throwing up on herself, passing out, and not getting back up. Called an ambulance... turns out one of her drinks was probably drugged. There was something else in her system, and she didn't wake up for 8 hours! Fuck.
We spent the rest of the night, sans the girls, bar/club hopping and finally pooped out at around 5am in time to take the first train back home. That night, combined with the weekend prior of going out all night and coming back at 5 and 6 in the morning finally did me in, and I spent the next couple of days sick with some sort of a cold (which didn't stop me from going out with Sarah, Allison, and Joey for beers at an Irish pub the next day though...)
So last night (Friday), Arturo, Joey and I went to the Juanes concert. Who knew there was so much Colombian pride in Barcelona? The concert was great... I'm not really one for the grungy long-haired look, but Juanes definitely grew on me. He's definitely a cutie, hopping around the stage. Ahh... anyway, afterward, Joey wanted to be adventurous and so we went around back to see what we could see. Joey was the only one to actually have the cajones to walk straight past security and backstage, into the band's dressing room or whatever, where he proceeded to steal a can of Pepsi, a Kit-Kat, and a box of chocolates while Art and I waited like chumps behind the baricades. Cheers to Spanish security. We actually did see him leave the building and get into a van and leave (got a picture) like classic teenyboppers. After that, a little pre-partying at Snack 55 and (straight) clubbing at Otto Zutz before heading home at, you guessed it, 5am.
Barcelona nightlife is going to kill me yet.
After we finally met up with the rest of the group, took a couple of shots at the bar, and took to the streets. Arturo thought it would be a good idea to steal a handle of Bacardi from the bar, which he did. Dude dresses up as a pirate, gets a little alcohol in him and thinks he's invincible. ("Man, I just grabbed that girl's ass and just held on for like 5 minutes!" Great, that's why that chick was looking at me weird...)
There was a ton of confetti on the ground, which mixed with the rain and dirt made a lovely sludge for stomping through. Even walking in wet shoes and socks it was actually pretty fun with the streets packed with loud Spaniards all singing the same Carnval song, music in the streets, packed bars and clubs, people pissing on the beach. We didn't make it 100 meters (look at me being European) away from the first bar before downing most of the stolen Bacardi between all of us. One of the girls was having a little too much fun -- we should have known what was coming when she slipped and fell about three times before laying down for good, throwing up on herself, passing out, and not getting back up. Called an ambulance... turns out one of her drinks was probably drugged. There was something else in her system, and she didn't wake up for 8 hours! Fuck.
We spent the rest of the night, sans the girls, bar/club hopping and finally pooped out at around 5am in time to take the first train back home. That night, combined with the weekend prior of going out all night and coming back at 5 and 6 in the morning finally did me in, and I spent the next couple of days sick with some sort of a cold (which didn't stop me from going out with Sarah, Allison, and Joey for beers at an Irish pub the next day though...)
So last night (Friday), Arturo, Joey and I went to the Juanes concert. Who knew there was so much Colombian pride in Barcelona? The concert was great... I'm not really one for the grungy long-haired look, but Juanes definitely grew on me. He's definitely a cutie, hopping around the stage. Ahh... anyway, afterward, Joey wanted to be adventurous and so we went around back to see what we could see. Joey was the only one to actually have the cajones to walk straight past security and backstage, into the band's dressing room or whatever, where he proceeded to steal a can of Pepsi, a Kit-Kat, and a box of chocolates while Art and I waited like chumps behind the baricades. Cheers to Spanish security. We actually did see him leave the building and get into a van and leave (got a picture) like classic teenyboppers. After that, a little pre-partying at Snack 55 and (straight) clubbing at Otto Zutz before heading home at, you guessed it, 5am.
Barcelona nightlife is going to kill me yet.