I am out of breath writing this because I have just run home after another one of those unexpected evenings that started as one thing and turned into....well, a great night!
I have only been out at a bar a handful of times in the evening since starting my trip and I would not have gone out tonight if it wasn’t for the fact I had run out of fags having arrived back from Malaga airport
I got back at 1115pm and pondered the thought of having no ciggies for at least 10 seconds before deciding to venture out to my local bar some 100 metres away to get a pack of “Luckies”. To my horror all the bars close to me were closed so I ventured (literally) down town. It’s a 20 minute walk and I strided out to turn it into a minor workout.
After just missing the closure time of most of the bars here I stumble over a bar that is still open. I get my fags from the machine and it looks open enough that I can order a beer without too much chance of rejection. My night begins!
With a smile the barmaid deciphers my appalling Spanish and gives me a Heineken that does not touch the sides and dutifully provides another with the same welcoming smile. Now the moment that really broke the ice.
The bar had about a dozen people in it and they are still ordering drinks. 4 of them were ladies that came in about the same time as me and were sitting next to me at the bar. Our nicotine replenishments synchronised and as I finish my fag I passed the place they were sitting outside and not wanting to dump my but on the floor I stubbed it out in there “ashtray”. There was laughter and low shrieks as the “ashtray” turned out to be there outside supply of nuts in a dish. The barmaid was with them and my laughter, acts of humility and their comments added up to an all round “take the piss out of the big Englishman” moment! It was great and the joke lasted when we returned to the inside.
With my gesturing, a few words of Spanish, their few words of English (remember this is no holiday resort – even late night drinking is a quiet Spanish affair – nothing like England where everyone gets loud and hammered) we “talked” about football, my journey, where am I staying etc and then the barmaid produced a free drink for me. It then got even better. The doors were locked more nuts and seeds appeared along with the ashtrays – it was a lock in! They trusted and accepted me. I left at 0415am after having a great time. When I left there were more people in the bar than when I got there. No loudness, no drunk groups of aggressive blokes or girls, just a community socialising. The streets were silent on the way home. Europe is so refreshing. No wonder they can’t understand the English drinking culture.
The Spanish, like the Italians, are a friendly bunch who welcomed me when they did not have to and actively made me feel welcome. I will return to this bar.
Could this happen with a non-English speaking Spaniard in England? Not a chance. England – listen and learn.
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