Archive | Street life Barcelona RSS feed for this section

Overheard on the street

29 Mar

It’s 2:30 a.m and I’m on my way home. In any other city this would mean the end of a big night. In Barcelona it means, I’m still mostly sober and I left the party early.

Three young American men are walking ahead of me and talking. Loudly.

Boy A: Look! Let’s just go to a club. And if we find some drugs near the club we DO THEM. Okay?

Boy B: Why don’t we go with my journalist friend?

Boy C: Where?

Boy B: She was going to meet some friends in Placa Reial and do drugs.

Boy C: What? Why didn’t we go with her?

Boy B: I don’t know.

Boy A: Dude she didn’t want us to come.

Boy B: No, no, she invited us. She did.

Boy A: She never sat with us in the bar.

Boy B: She was smoking outside okay.

Boy A: Like all the time dude! She did not want to be with you.

Boy B (in a subdued voice): I don’t think she was avoiding us….

Boy A: She was NOT IN TO YOU. You have to learn to read the signs, I’m telling you. Let’s just go to the club and FIND SOME DRUGS OKAY?

 


 

Ah youth! So what are the likely outcomes of their night? In ascending order of cost and danger, I think they are:

  1. If extremely lucky: They don’t find anyone selling drugs outside the club. Go inside, and are ripped-off buying 8 Euro glasses of nasty beer.
  2. If slightly lucky: They try to buy drugs from an undercover cop who busts them and takes them down to the police station.
  3. If slightly unlucky: They get robbed by one of the dealers or pickpockets outside the club.
  4. If extremely unlucky: They don’t find anyone selling drugs outside the club, go inside and under minimal encouragement from some pretty young thing, start buying 160 Euro bottles of crap cava.

 

21-And-Over-Movie1

 

 

Advertisements

Howling at the wind

4 Mar

Step out on to the street tonight and the world has gone crazy.

Wooden shutters are smacking against balcony railings while plastic bags fly circles overhead. Pollen dunes are chasing my feet down the street and a hundred wind chimes are shouting silvery-tuned excitement.

A strange creature of a wind is rattling the city tonight, pushing over bins and breaking granny’s flowerpots. A low moan follows as it hurls itself down narrow stone pathways. The old buildings complaining at the manhandling.

Yet even as I’m staring open mouthed at this otherworldly spectacle, zipped into an arctic defying jacket with a scarf wrapped around my face, a man in T-shirt and shorts jogs past me. Oblivious to the madness raging around him, or simply determined not to interrupt his routine. The night seems populated with the normal side of humanity, and I seem to be alone in my wonder.
Where are all the feral people tonight? Tonight isn’t for sitting in and drinking tea. It’s a night for howling at the wind!

windy_night_by_hochuliya
Painting by Hochuliya.

Ajuntament de Barcelona launches anti graffiti campaign

19 Jan

 

Or maybe not………

2014-01-19 17.50.19

 

Found on Calle D’Avinyó yesterday.