For those of you who have the delight of having me on snapchat, you will know that I was very much "going hard" this weekend. Yes, it was the Champions League final of Real Madrid v. Atletico Madrid, and Madrid....was wild.
I´ll start off with Friday night though as I went off to one of my favourite clubs, Kapital, which is one of the biggest in Europe with 7 floors. Hosting the pre-drinks yet again, because I am lets face it an oh so a fabulous host, I decided to use up any left over alcohol from previous pre-drinks by making a sangria. This consisted of a big red bucket filled with 3 bottles of wine, a bottle of gin, a third of a bottle of vodka, fanta lemon, lemon concentrate and chopped up fruit. Very, very lethal...but very very yummy. The Spanish certainly know what makes up a good drink. Anyway, fair to say it went down a storm. Miss Neighbour Next Door was once again not happy, as she banged on the walls on several occasions, but as per usual, we ignored her, only ever silencing ourselves for like 30 seconds after she had banged. That woman will be glad to see me go next week! So after pre-drinks, of everyone being fascinated by a very lively Lorena who had been drinking since the early hours, and of course a little bit of dancing to the Spice Girls, we headed out to "Kapi" to bust some moves. The night was mainly spent on floor número 4, the reggaeton floor, grinding it up on Spanish men and trying to bag ourselves free drinks. There, we came across a man who claimed he was the footballer Marcelo´s bro, and after not believing him at first, he pretty much proved us wrong with lots of photos with Marcelo on his phone and the fact that they really did look very very alike. It was at that point I then decided to head up to the smoking area on the 7th floor where I was continuously hit on by one very persistant Spanish man who would just not leave me alone. He told me that going home with him would be "the night of my life" and that I have "never experienced good sex until I had been with him". I beg to differ, love. After then telling him that I was not going to go home with him, he then, proper gentleman and all, invited me to the bathroom so he could "show me his huge penis". I declined the offer. That wasn´t the only compliment that night I got though, as as I complemented Emily´s friend, Vanessa, on her outfit, she goes to me "What? Are you serious? I just wish I could dance like you!"....I think she was joking....me stumbling around taking selfies is not what I would qualify as being a good dancer. But hey, thanks anyway.
Now I must talk about the football. Have I ever been excited about football? No. But how can you not be when THIS match is going on in the very city you are living in. As I said earlier, Madrid, was crazy. I met up with Sanderson, a huge huge football and Real Madrid fanatic to go and find a bar to watch the match in. Now, thinking we were being clever, we thought we would go nearly 3 hours before the match in order to get seats, and just start drinking early. We weren´t clever though as everyone else had exactly the same idea and trust me, every single bar was filled to the brim. It was then at this point we decided to walk back to mine, go to the corner shop to get LOTS of booze and watch it mine. Emma then came round to join us and then Andrew and his friend Beth after telling him he could only come round if brought us food. Which he did, the sweetie. I´ll put it out there, I didn´t think the first half of the match was very good, and I was pretty sure that Atletico were going to win after that first goal. ¡Vamos Real! You could hear the guy in the flat opposite me lighting some sort of fireworks from his balcony and we knew that as soon as we headed outside, everyone was going to be getting "mad wit it" - I do live right next to San Bernebeu after all...! My mother, meanwhile, was texting me from a bar with my Dad, cheering about the fact that she could stay in the bar for another half an hour, and therefore she would buy herself "yet another strawberry daquiri"...oh Mum. We decided to stay in the flat for a while before heading out to the madness and when we eventually left, we stopped back at the corner shop and I have never seen that place so full or crazy. Normally it´s just me in there buying my diet coke and cigarettes, but this time, oh my god, there were like 50 people all screaming and so much stuff was being stolen. All the alochol was gone and so was basically all the food. It was then time to head down to Cibeles. Now the saying goes that when Real Madrid win everyone goes to this area, Cibeles, and if Atletico win, to a place called Neptuno. Police were absolutely everywhere, and as we got to centre, there was the biggest crowd (thousands and thousands of people) - I don´t think I´ve ever been so squished. It was madness. There were fire crackers, flames, beer everywhere and of course so much chanting. "COMO NO TE VOY A QUERER...." "ASÍN REAL MADRID! ASÍN! ASÍN"....."HALA MADRID".....I was so into it....as my snapchat lovers should know. The plan was to wait there whilst the team flew back from Lisbon to Madrid. They would arrive back and come to Cibeles, at about 2am...what was planned. But no, they didn´t end up arriving until 6am and we had long gone before then, apart from Sanderson, who stayed by herself, in that shambles of a crowd, until the very end. I have never seen her so passionate about something. I don´t think ever seen any fan that passionate about football.....and I have two older brothers.....Hearts season ticket holders and all.....GO THE JAMBOS!. Somehow, I didn´t end up getting home til after 5am though.
I met up with Emma on Sunday for lunch and we sat in a cool "urban playground/plaza", eating tostadas and watching live Spanish music. It was great and so "hipster". Again, the atmosphere was buzzing. After then a little siesta at Emma´s pad, we met up with Sarah again for some more Real Madrid madness in the Puerta del Sol, where at 8.30pm the team would arrive and show off the cup. Was pretty cool, was pretty cool. Another huge crowd and another lot of chanting. As Sarah then stayed on afterwards for some beers with some other friends, I decided, sensibly, to go home. I had lasted on about 6 hours sleep the entire weekend and my bed was very much needed. Avoiding the metro, as my line goes to Bernebeu, where the team where then heading, I walked back, and my bed was so comfortable. I did not want to leave it this morning.
So here I am, second last Monday of work....not really doing any work. Coffee in my hand, pencil skirt on, tired as fuck and smiling about my fantastic weekend. Madrid I love you. ¡Hala Madrid!
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