Fiesta-ing in El Prat

The past weekend was also a holiday in El Prat. Theirs just happen to coincide with BCN. You know you’re in Spain when there’s some kind of holiday/fiesta somewhere.

After hanging out with Michelle on Friday, Francisco tells me to call him when I get off the bus so he could pick me up…in a motorcycle. I smirked and laughed nervously when he told me. I’ve been on a motorcycle once – actually more like a vespa – in the Philippines and it freaked me out. My friend was going super fast and zigzagging in and out. Then the past year, I’ve had this sudden urge to ride a motorcycle. I’ve seen so many of them that I kinda want to learn how to drive them and eventually get a Vespa. I think that I would officially be European the day that happens.

When Francisco arrived in his friend’s motorcycle, I got pretty excited but nervous at the same time. As expected, he drove very fast and making super crazy turns…or maybe it was just me. I make it to our destination alive, but my heart was beating rapidly. Francisco just laughed at me.

Our destination was a free concert that was part of the El Prat celebration. It featured Mucho Muchacho, a Spanish hip hop rapper. I’ve actually never heard of him before but I hate to admit it, he was pretty good. It was so much fun. We were there with his friends, Alex and Manel. I had met Manel the first time I met Francisco. He’s hilarious, and crazy and fun to hang out with. Granted he was drunk, he gave me a huge hug and told me how happy he was to see me again. Then he asked me when I’m bringing my friends to meet him…hahaha.

There were lots of food and drinks, although not like the awesome fried food at American fairs. I really wished they had funnel cake! We all got pretty drunk and I saw borracho Francisco for the first time. Alcohol doesn’t usually affect him that much but that night, it seemed that they were serving way too strong drinks and he had one too many. I noticed he seemed a little bit more animated than usual but I didn’t really think he was that drunk; He wasn’t stumbling around or anything.

We got home and he all of a sudden left the bedroom. I passed out on the bed and woke up an hour later to find him still missing. I looked for him and found him in the front room passed out. He didn’t even budge when I tried to wake him up. And I must have still been drunk to not notice his vomit on the floor. I didn’t realize it until he told me in the morning.

We had a good time that night and I highly enjoyed my first night out in El Prat. And really I’m just glad (and surprised) that I wasn’t the one doing the vomiting.