It was so sweet of FCB to win for my bday!

like how I left you w/a cliffhanger and then didn’t update forever? Yeah, I’m awesome like that.

So after strolling around Port Vell and Las Ramblas, we went back to the hotel to prep for the evening. That day was my actual birthday, so I had made reservations for us at a Flamenco dinner show to celebrate the dirty thirty.  Neither of the WonderTwins had made any mention of my bday and considering they never shut up about anything, I figured they had forgotten. Whatevs,  the peeps I truly wanted to party w/ were back in the US anyway, so I didn’t say anything. Well, after I nipped out to the pool for some bakey-bakey (sun, not weed), I came back to a bottle of cava and a decadent mini-cake waiting in the room. TioTiny started to say that they ordered it, but I shot him a look knowing there was no fucking way they bought me a bottle of booze for my bday. MommaPithy shut him up and ‘fessed that the hotel had sent it up. When we checked into The Hilton Diagonal Mar the hottie (Jorg, spoke several languages, tall, v. nice) made a comment about my birthday when he saw my passport, so sweetie that he was, sent up the booze and noms.  not only was the hotel staff v. friendly and helpful, they had excellent taste in hiring. My favorite was the Aussie that spoke fluent Spanish, had olive skin, blue-ish green eyes and dark hair. I was so tempted to jump him in the elevator….oopid cockblocks.

I saved the cava for my bday celebration stateside, so I could properly enjoy it, but the cake never had a chance.

The dinner show was in the middle of Las Ramblas, and when we arrived early we sat and people-watched.  Tons of FC Barca (and one or two v. lonely Manchester United ) fans –blowing horns, chanting, drinking and clad in team colors — were headed to maremagnum to watch the game on the big screen. I so tempted to blow off dinner and find a bar to watch the game w/ them.

But this dinner wasn’t something I wanted to blow off. We were going to Tablao Cordobes for a buffet dinner followed by a live flamenco performance.  If you’re ever in Barcelona, I highly recommend going here! The food was incredible.  Several kinds of stew/soups, traditional paella, fresh veggies and salads, rice dishes other than paella, cheeses, hams…sooooo good.  There were some items I wasn’t about to try, octopus salad being one of them, but some stuff I thought was safe, like the mini-croquettes and the black rice. I thought it was some weird type of grain that made it black, but  I was wrong. Oh, so v. wrong. I found out the next day that it was black b/c the rice was cooked in squid ink.


Tasty though and I would have never guess squid ink. And the mini-croquettes? Well, I’m still not sure what they were. The lil sign in front of them said something like Croquetas de bachalla, which Google tells me is a shredded cod fish croquette. The consistency of the croquette wasn’t like shredded fishy. It was more gelatinous and didn’t taste like seafood at all. It was quite nommy. During our tapas tour the next day — same place that broke the squid news to me– they mentioned that tripe was used for croquettes. I think we all know where this is going…

Dinner, dessert and 3/4 of a jarra of sangria later it was time for the show. We were ushered into small-ish room, with seats right up to the stage. There were times that I had to uncross my legs b.c I was afraid the dancers might trip.  A round of cava –Spanish sparkling wine that is now my favorite drink and yes, I’m calling it BeanerBubbly– was served and the show began.

It was incredible. I’ve to different performing arts shows, but this show was pure emotion, athleticism, and talent with plenty of sensuality. The music was live, 2 guitar players and at most 3 singers — one sang while the others clapped and did a background echo-ish type of singing.   And yes, the dudes were hot. I pretty much filled my camera trying to get a clear shot of one of the singers, but as he was doing the clappy-stomp my pics were a lil blurry.  The lead dancer was another hottie, dancing only solos and getting rounds of applause for his footwork. His long, curly hair made him easy on the eye, until he did some spins in front of me and made it rain little droplets of Hot!FlamencoDancer sweat.  Ew.

While we were watching the show, you could hear cheering coming from the streets when the music lulled. It sounded like a victory for Barca, and once we got out of the show, the streets filled w. the peeps from maremagnum and other bars dancing and chanting told us that FCB had won!

TT had earlier express fear about being in the large crowd of soccer fans after the game, so he didn’t look that thrilled that we had to walk w/ them to get to a metro stop. I was ecstatic. This kind of celebration  was what you always saw on the news and we were going to be smack-dab in the middle of it!! I took the lead, the WT held hands and, on occasion, the back of my dress and we waded through.  Years of navigating though crowded dance floors, with drinks and ciggies in hand were all leading up to this legendary moment!

It. was. awesome.  Doing Times Square for NYE had previously been my OMGWTFTHISISSOOOAWESOME memory, but NYE, you just got served.

People were in trees, on top of buildings, climbing light poles, kicking bags around like soccer balls, lighting fireworks, blowing horns, dancing, throwing beer and everyone was singing the different fight songs. (Barca, Barca, Barcaaaaaa)

This isn’t my video, but here are some idea of what the walk and metro ride were like:

Now that is how you celebrate a birthday.


~ by pithycomments on June 16, 2009.

3 Responses to “It was so sweet of FCB to win for my bday!”

  1. Happy belated birthday, Chica!

  2. […] was so sweet of FCB to win for my bday! « DC is my Manhattan Cosa Nostradamus wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptThat day was my actual birthday, so I […]

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