As soon as we sat down we went straight back out. The night only starts at 10.30 in Spain and we headed out just after this.
We spent the first few hours with some whiskey and coke standing on a street corner. Ruth and I were being introduced to people we couldn’t speak to left, right and centre; David’s brothers, cousins, friends and everyone else associated with him.
We had a great time attempting to communicate with drunken Spaniards in an equally inebriated state – it resembled two people; both blind, deaf and dumb having a political debate about the current world economic crisis. Me and Ruth also took our friendship to what can be argued as it’s greatest level when I stood watch to make sure nobody else walked around the corner while I listened to her crouch and piss in the street as there were no toilets in the immediate area.
We spoke about deep things some of them truly representative of how drunk we were.
We also hard our first brush with the law more importantly El Guardia Civil. The police decided to come by and check us all for drugs and in the drunken state I was, I believed it to be a great tourist opportunity. I whipped out the camera and off went the flash.
Taking photos of policemen in this country is illegal. I had to hand over my ID, camera and was searched head to toe. With the possibility of being put in jail, I left the talking to David and just apologised presudely.
At about 1.30-2.00 it was time to mosy on down to the club – one that I velieve is possibly the only one in the world that has the men’s toilet queue coming out of the door and being twice as long as the women’.
There were more amazing conversations with the Spanish mainly consisting of;
RANDOM SPANIARD: You love Spain!?
ME: Si!
The night was still young and at about 4-4.30 we moved the party to another club.
Here it was my dancing that got me in to trouble. Some Senioras decided to help me dance like a Spaniard and not some ghetto-wigga-wannabe, nerdy, white man dance. Henceforth I felt thoroughly embarrassed and made my way p to rejoin the main group.
Before heading back for the night David wanted to show us his version of a greasy fry up. It involves hot chocolate, which is quite frankly was just meted down chocolate bars with some batter form a battered sausage to dip into it. It was… not a greasy fry up. We got to David’s and stayed in bed until 1.30 in the afternoon.
When we awoke it was time to see the village in daylight, it’s beautiful. The simple nature of it all and it’s quaint sizeis everything you imagine from a village in Spain.
We stopped at a pub to taste some Spanish beer – Kahou. It’s no Pilsner Urquell but does have a good tast. I also enjoyed it because of the added Tapas. Some potator and cheesy bits and chopped up hot dog in a rich vinegar. Not at all bad tbh.
After the beer we were shown to a place called ‘La Sabia’. About 28 of David’s friends all piled some money together to rent a place that they simply hang out it.
The room is full of beer, TV’s, Xbox, Playstation, a fridge,, a freezer and bags and bags of weed. This basement between two shops is perfect for a hangout spot, and during the course of the entire day, numbers of people arrived and left as they pleased. The highlights included and Athletico Madrid loss, Ronaldo being sent off, the hot dog with EVERYTHING on it and a pizza that Domino’s would be envious of.
On our way home we had law encounter numbero dos. David’s friend who kindly offered to take us home failed to mention he had forgotten to renew the tax. Our with the ID again and a fine for the driver. As we were leaving he yelled out ‘Tu Puta Madre’ – my new favourite phrase.
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