On our way down from the monastery yesterday we realised the time had past 8 o’clock and that the football match between Spain and France had started.
A colleague of Hilde & Arild told us to get our buts to Arguineguin, cause if any day, -tonight would be massive there, she said. As David Silva is from this little tourist town, people tend to go nuts of pride when Spain plays.
Off we went.
What a contrast to suddenly rush off into the sunset to see a match after the hours we had spent in the monastery, but then again we are three people very found of contrast and impulses!
We managed to park the car just before the sunset and had interesting conversations with drunken teenagers behind the wheels that invited us to see the match with them further down the beach. We thanked them for the offer but decided to go for an overly crowded authentic bar we passed on the way where people were squeezing together in the doorways.
We got a table and ordered tapas next to a table full of oldies that had had more than one sangria before our arrival. They were oh’ing and singing Ole Ole, Ole, Ole more often than we sipped to our beers, and helped us getting in that perfect football match mood, just like we hoped for.
1-0 to Spain quickly turned to 2-0 by penalty and everybody went ballistic!! Suddenly we had the ladies from the neihbouring table at our table chugging down beers with us, and wanting us to sing along Ole, Ole , Ole Oleeee
Soon we found ourselves taking selfie shots while shouting Yo soy Espanyol arm in arm with a couple of 70 year old ladies. None of the two couldn’t stop telling us how much they loved Hilde’s blond hair, and suddenly kissed Arild almost on the mouth because according to them he was too freaking goodlooking, for Christ sake (eres demasiado guapo, por Dios).
From there on we sat for another twenty minutes watching people that obviously felt much happier than us about Spain’s championship. They kissed, wept a bit and hugged each other before they ordered una cerveza para todos! (one beer for everybody) and soon stumbled their way out.
Arriving to the flat at midnight we found out that Arguineguin obviously was the place to be tonight (something rare according to A&H). At the beach in front of the flat were young and old, Spanish and non Spanish together having a BBQ and fireplace. And then we remembered, It’s San Juan tomorrow. And people in Spain start their parties early!
So we decided to join them by taking an impulsive night swim in seemingly fresh water to a change, and the smell of warm summer and burnt carton. On her way to bed Hilde popped by my room to say goodnight and emotionally yawned: How can we possibly leave this?, pointing towards the terrace with her head.
From there we can still here singing voices and laughter rapped in barbeque sparkles.
Yes indeed, we love Spain.