Pride in Sitges

This past weekend, Johanna and I went to Sitges again for Pride festivities on Saturday night.  We had a blast.  The little streets, which look like a fabricated neighborhood in Disney theme park, were stuffed full with an international mix of 'mos.  Dinner was at the Super Pollo, basically a Catalan El Pollo Loco.  The food was unexpectedly superb.  For about 11€ we had half a roasted chicken, a generous plate of fries, croquetas, and a bottle of cava.  Afterwards, we wandered the bars, encountered some fierce queens...and I now owe Johanna $1 for dancing on the pool table.

We were supposed to meet Jessy at some rave, but didn't end up making it to the bus.  The logical substitute was, of course, to jump into the Mediterranean with pretty boys cruising up and down the shore.  We were later informed by some Catalans that it is weird to go to the beach topless in the middle of the night since there is obviously no sun.  Oops.  After sharing refreshments with our new Catalan friends for the night, we made it back to the train station.

Like 13 year olds at slumber party, we stayed up all night and took the first train back to Barcelona in the morning.  It was silly, exciting, and appallingly difficult.  The train was packed with the haggard remnants of the night; we ran to the last car to snag some seats.  When I finally got to my station, Joanic, I zombie-crawled home wreaking of salt, sweat, wine, and dawn.