As you know it's our little village's fiesta and we've somehow managed to survive the first weekend. Surprisingly there didn't seem to be much activity going on during the day, presumably because everyone was trying to catch up their sleep, but Joseph and I took a little walk around the village and chanced upon this tiny little side street. Each house had built a little shrine to a fairy tale or children's film or television program outside their house. I'm not entirely sure what it has to do with Sant Juame but hey let's not nit pick. It looks really quaint and they have obviously gone to a lot of time and effort.
Shrek introduces the fairy tales depicted, sadly a deluge of rain has smudged it all.
Mother Goose (I think)
Snow White & a very shouty little boy (who thinks posing for a photo means shouting 'smile' as loud as possible).
Other good points so far have included the first Correbous of the week, otherwise known as the Running of the Bulls. Photos and footage of that will be posted tomorrow, and as I type all the older kids in the village are having a massive water fight in the main plaça outside our apartment.
The down side has most definitely been the evening entertainment. Where with the exception of Saturday night, the nightly acts didn't get underway until 1am. Thursday night was the much dreaded 'Techno Rave' but as luck would have it the weather Gods deemed it appropriate to tip about 8 inches of rain over the party and 2 hours of continuous thunder and lightening threw a technical spanner in the works for a while. Sadly the storm passed and the rave continued, right up until 8am.
Friday night we thought, would fare a little better after all we'd got the worst night out of the way hadn't we? Hmm, obviously not as when the various club acts from southern Catalunya had finished their sets at 4am, a DJ from a local dance radio station took to the decks and the kids carried on partying until 8.00am again. I'm not sure which was worse, the dreadful music (clearly I am getting old) or the fact that half the dogs in the village were holding an impromptu howl off with each, I'm not sure whether they were protesting or joining in.
Saturday night fared slightly better. We'd been over to some friends' house for a party and returned home at 11.00pm, being a tad inebriated I decided to sit up on our terrace and enjoy the entertainment. A singer was belting out some passable renditions of the big band favourites, bizarrely our singer kept crediting the songs to Michael Bublé or Robbie Williams, I'm sure the Rat Pack would be turning in their swinging graves. Still I was having a ball swaying drunkedly on the terrace and singing slightly too loudly 'when the rhythm starts to play, dance with me, make me sway', (did I mention I was pissed) until the mosquitoes and fatigue finally did for me. Sadly my sleep was short lived as at 4.00am another DJ from Flaix FM took to the decks. *sigh*
The scene of our nightly torment.
Needless to say the bags under my eyes are currently looking for a sponsor. There must be more humane ways of torturing the residents than subjecting them to awful dance music until 8.00am for 3 days running. Still at least now the weekend is over our torture will only last until 4 or 5am most nights. A friend at the party on Saturday kindly informed with the fact that she knows one of the singers who are billed to appear this week. 'oh really?' I say feigning some enthusiasm, 'oh yes, but he's not on stage until 3am, can you believe that?' I believed alright, she continued 'you'll know who it is though because he'll be singing George Benson songs'. Oh fucking goody, can't wait!