From Spanishly Salt-free, to Spanish Sunset

Listening -only listening- to a shower of compliments along the 15-minute walk to Espanyola Way was the warm-up to the party. The euphoria of the celebration -and probably some alcohol in the public system- was paving the way and knocking down any inhibition. I was amused and curious to see how the celebrations would be in a non-soccer country, on a Spanish road of a Saxon country, having Spain won! And maybe my 50% Spanish blood was jumping and sizzling inside me too. The streets were exultant. It was as if everybody –regardless of nationality and favorite sports- needed an excuse to celebrate.


It took me long minutes to browse one single block, the most popular block, opening my way through people of all nationalities that were just joining the celebration. Blowing their horns, banging their drums, drinking, dancing to those beats, taking photos, laughing, drinking, asking to have photos taken to and from strangers, compliments flying in the air, drinking…. I could tell there was too much drinking already. If it was hot and humid, that block had easily 10C more than the rest of the neighborhood. I enjoyed witnessing the party, but I did not see myself staying there much longer.

I was ready to walk back home when I bumped into my inviting neighbours, drinking, of course, and Mr Clarinet playing his instrument. They seemed to be in some world of their own by now… until I witnessed a cold-blood awakening. A colossal policeman with unfriendly face, the most intimidating policeman of the whole group that was keeping an eye on the crowd, approached Mr.Clarinet: “Keep that away”. Of course, how do you keep a Mr Clarinet quiet? A Mr SPANISH Clarinet quiet?! “YOU keep it away or I take it away.” Some further and closer Spanish reaction… now physically closer too… quite audacious since Mr Clarinet was half the size of Mr Law-and-Order… let alone he was playing as visitor! “YOU keep it away or I take it away” (I thought, is he human? Is he re-playing a recording?). The streets were a carnival, sheer noise, the clarinet was just one more voice (and at least a melodic one), and steps away they were blowing horns and playing drums and all kinds of small metallic instruments! Mr Clarinet was suddenly punched by common-sense and immediately kept his brass instrument away.

They seemed to remain in their own worlds…. I had a taste of the Latin enthusiasm and spontaneity, of the infectious celebration mode, however, not all that shines is…
I had already decided it was time for me to go home, after this colorful, vibrant, loud sip of celebration. It was only 6.40pm… plenty of time to enjoy sunset!

I was delighted with my decision: sunset by the canal is a hard-to-beat choice. And what a sunset! And just as if I needed any kind of reassurance, it turned out to be a Spanish-colored sky!