Having fun that is!
After last week when our adoptive home decided to have a quiet weekend partying in the country for 48 hours solid followed by taking Monday off so that they could spend the day partying in the village, Kate and I thought that they’d probably want to take things easy for a few months, at least until the next fiesta.
So it was that last night went we entered Bar Tuna at 10.40 and discovered the place almost empty, we assumed that we were correct and people were taking a well earned rest. In fairness they’d earned it.
After a drink and after Kate had thrown a gin over my leg, we found ourselves chatting to Tony and his girlfriend and enquired if Saturday nights were always this quiet.
“It’s not quiet tonight,” said Tony’s girlfriend, “they’ve all gone home for tea. Soon they will be back and later some of us will go to Disco Tony’s!”
“Oh good!” I said crashing to the floor by the door, as Kate felled me with a rugby tackle. In my excitement at this news it seemed that I made a reflexive break for the exit.
We stayed and shortly the numbers started to increase as the village started to head back out after tea.
We stayed a little longer and found ourselves talking to a few faces, old and new, and again were pleased to see how genuinely friendly everyone we encounter is. At lunchtime we had stopped in Pepe’s Bar on the way back from the supermercado and had bumped into ‘wiki’ man, so named because he likes a whisky, likes to see others drink whisky with him and, like all the other Spanish around here, doesn’t pronounce the letter ‘s’. He did look genuinely pleased to see us and it was a relief to see that he doesn’t start on the whisky too early in the day.
So, like him, many people made the time for us and to chat. So friendly were they in fact that when the Playstation was brought into the bar with some mad crazy Karaoke game in it, they positively insisted that I sing the only 2 English songs on the disc. The mad crazy fools!
What I didn’t understand before I started dueting “It’s Not Unusual” with ‘Gypsy’ was that this was a competition with a virtual Simon Cowell voting on our respective vocal performances. Had I known this beforehand then I suspect that my advantage of having English as a first language would have told and I wouldn’t have been so comprehensively beaten by my Spanish speaking friend. It was close though with just a few thousand points separating us and I suspect that had ‘Gypsy’ also been trying to effect a Welsh accent, the competition might have been significantly closer.
However they weren’t going to let my humiliation put them off and a few songs later I found myself before the bar once more, microphone in hand, strutting up and down to the opening bars of “Shall I Stay or Shall I Go?”
The response was unanimous.
The response was also surprising.
Apparently they wanted me to stay and amuse them through the complete song. I amused them.
I was magnificent. I imagine it was like the first night Elvis played Las Vegas.
I strutted. They cheered.
I sang. They ignored the noise and cheered more.
The Playstation went odd and stated showing the lyrics in Spanish. I continued and a bigger cheer.
By the end of the 3 minutes the bar was empty. I don’t think they’re ready for The Clash.
After a few miuntes of quiet the bar refilled. I think they all had to go outside to cool down having over heated through the excitement of my performance.
At about 2am or so, and with the bar starting to quieten, we made our excuses and left. We turned left from the bar and walked throughh the town as our normal route was unlit.
Hence minutes later we were in Pub Lucas, half bar/half night club, with more of our new friends, spitting sunflower seeds on the floor.
The noise of cracking sunflower seeds was deafening. As Kate chatted to a gentlemen about who knows what, I found myself in the surreal position of being surrounded by half a dozen of Villagarcia’s finest young females all cracking sunflower seeds and spitting the shells on the floor.
It’s no wonder they’re all single.
Still Kate and I aren’t the type to judge and so when Pub Lucas were decent enough to throw us all out we graciously accepted a lift home.
One minute later the car stopped.
I explained that this wasn’t our home.
They explained that it was only 5am and that this was Disco Tony’s.
What is wrong with them? Will they never stop?
We entered and shortly we found ourselves surrounded by many from Bar Tuna. I suggested karaoke. They suggested silence. You can have too much of a good thing I guess.
Two hours later we left to discover that daylight was upon us. I felt like a teenager again, leaving a club that we had entered in darkness to find the sun had risen. All that was missing was the tinkle of bottles and the hum of a milk float.
Gypsy drove us home and moments later we found ourselves joined by the remainder of Disco Tony’s who we had foolishly invited back for ‘fiesta’. Fortunately they didn’t stay too long and by a little after 8am this morning we were able to head for bed.
Perhaps we’ll go out again next year.