La Merce

So I’m quickly realizing that I’m spending a lot of money here. I’m trying to take the Alex Canter approach (“I’ll make it back when I’m 35 and have a real job,”) which has been working so far (it makes more sense than most of Canter’s logic), but it’s still tough to look at my bank account _____ and surely get drained (insert any word that isn’t slowly). For that reason, I’ve been trying to cut back on my expenses.

Step 1: stop buying drinks at bars, only buy the worst liquor you can find

Thank god for Rachmaninoff! Nothing like the taste of motor oil to start your night off right.

 Step 2: cook all your own meals

Note: those garlic mashed potatoes are only about 75% mashed.

Not bad, eh! It only took like 2 ½ hours of work (not ½ hour of work and 2 hours of chicken cooking in the oven, 2 ½ hours of screwing up the recipe and watching Youtube videos on how to slice garlic). In the end, it was worth the work if only because I got so much love from everyone who walked into the kitchen and smelled my chicken cooking. My goal right now is to learn how to cook actual meals, so I like to think this is my first step to becoming a real adult. And to be honest, it went pretty well.

Step 3: take advantage of all the free attractions Barcelona has to offer

The reason this picture is off-center is because I don't remember taking it.

Boy, did I pick a good weekend for this. La Mercè (those hipster Barcelonians are all about the backwards accent mark) is the biggest party of the year in Barcelona. We actually got Monday off for it. Friday night was the first night, and there was a light show at La Sagrada Familia, a huge church that’s been being built on and off between civil wars and the death of its creator, Gaudí. I’m going to let the pictures and video do the talking. All I’ll say is I can’t think of anything cooler I’ve ever seen in my life.

 I promise it is worth watching every second of that 14 minute video.

The next day Chris, a few people in our residencia and I explored the city a little. We maneuvered our way through the gothic district, stopping for some mediocre street performers, a meat and cheese stand, and a silky smooth Spanish guitar player.

This guy's skills were matched only by his flow.

 That night, La Mercè delivered once again. About mile away from our residencia was a free concert put on but none other than the British tour-de-force rock band, The Kooks. Chris was more pumped for this than you probably think. While I’d never heard of any of their songs (or of them, apparently. When I looked them up while writing this I realized I was thinking of The Kinks. Don’t tell Chris. He’ll be devastated.), they put on a good show. I stopped by La Sagrada Familia again to watch the light show from a different spot. Totally worth it. I went back early, though, to prepare for the next day.

It was an early morning, because we wanted to catch the Castellers perform. The Castellers are groups of people who make human towers. It’s a Catalonian tradition. The first time I heard this I burst out laughing, but they’re pretty into it here. They usually start with a huge group of people at the bottom with their hands up ready to catch anyone who falls. This a group at a practice gym:

This collapsed right after this was taken.

 

And of course, it wouldn't be Barcelona without a stocked bar, regardless of how dangerous the activity is or how many children are involved.

Then people run on top of them and start stacking. It’s really that simple. Here’s a video of the tallest one ever built:

 

The fall at the end is intentional. They didn’t do it at the one we were at, but apparently it’s common. Oh, and the one at the top is a toddler. Like, 3-5 years old. Also, you can’t really tell until you’re right by it being built, but every single one looks like it’s inches away from falling. The strain on everyone’s face is not comforting when you’re within crushing distance. Regardless, all the towers we saw were successful.

That night was the highlight of the weekend. World renowned DJ Fatboy Slim was performing literally two blocks from our residencia. No chance I was passing that up. But first, we had the correfoc, literally translated “fire run.” This name is appropriate. Basically, people attach fireworks to pitchforks or cutouts of dragons and light them, spraying the crowd.

 

 

It’s not as dangerous as it sounds, but it’s still pretty dangerous, especially when you go wearing only long sleeves. Just having sunglasses would have made it so much less dangerous, but I made do with what I had.

http://tinyurl.com/ccvqye5

You're going the wrong way Chris!

 Once you actually feel the sparks hit you and realize it doesn’t hurt at all, you get a lot bolder.

This was so much fun. I never got the chance to get shot with fireworks by my drunk uncle and reckless cousins at a lake house, so this was a childhood experience I was making up for.

Fatboy Slim was more fun than I was even expecting, and I was expecting a lot. After seeing him, I wanted to see him again in December in London, but that looks like that’s getting replaced by Swedish House Mafia in Paris. Although it goes directly against my saving money thing, this week we planned the majority of our trips. Amsterdam and Paris (for a Swedish House Mafia concert) are locks. More are coming.

I am steadfastly living by Canter’s wisdom until I completely run out of money. Wish me luck.