La Mercè, Part Two: Drink wine then play with fire

My previous post concerned itself with the first half of the festival. Here we continue with the second half. However, the tale begins with an event I had already planned for that day, unrelated to the festival: Spanish wine tasting.

A strange choice for a man who doesn't like wine, but then what better way for him to be turned around on the subject?

We were given a talk about the various processes used, plus how and why they vary depending on the type of wine being produced. I certainly appreciated that. We were, of course, poured several glasses of wine, and set about analysing their colour and aroma, all the while learning what the various properties indicated about the wine's production. Totally got that as well, it all made sense. Inevitably we then sampled each of them, and for sure I was able to taste the differences; it did not simply all taste of 'wine' to me. Here's the eternal problem though: I liked none of it. I mean I was able to drink it - unlike Jewish wine - but I wouldn't really choose to. I think this settles the issue once and for all, so the rest of you can stop looking at me funny whenever I say I don't like the stuff. And you may also stop insisting that I just haven't tasted the right one. I'm particularly looking in Ben's direction here. I'm sorry, I'll never be a wine snob. I have, however, learned this pearl of wisdom: if you want to sound like a wine snob, when you sample a wine you need only say that you detect a subtle scent of figs. Apparently something about figs lingers long in the barrel, across several batches of wine, so the chances are you'll be able to taste it in quite a few wines, given a sufficiently refined palette.

I headed immediately afterwards to the Correfoc, to play with fire. Sadly, I couldn't get anyone else on board for this one so I was on my own. Also, I probably should have taken the warnings about what to wear a bit more seriously, so that I didn't have to cower in fear quite as much. This experience is one of the most brilliantly insane I've ever had. A few posts ago I led with the title 'My kingdom for The Apocalypse!'. I may therefore have entitled this entry 'Be careful what you wish for'. You need to imagine a long, straight road, with several blocks of buildings disappearing into the distance. A typical Manhattan street, really. (Only semi-typical for Barcelona.) There is a rhythm to the constant explosion-rumble-flash, explosion-rumble-flash that illuminates each block as a parade of fire-breathing devils, interspersed with marching bands and the crazy fools that dance amongst it all, shuffles towards you. The bands and devils and dancers aside, the ambient effect is so loud and full of immense flashes of light that the word 'blitz' immediately came to mind. I mean who am I to compare, but it certainly felt like a fair comparison at the time.

The whole event is far more terrifying than actually it should be. The explosions, the flashing lights and the beating of drums; something quite primal appears to be awoken by this cocktail for the senses. That said, when the devils start chasing after the crowd and spewing fire at them I guess one has every right to be, at least, slightly concerned. OK, so it's not actual fire, just sparks. But there are a lot of sparks. It is possible to get burned, I'm told, or have one's hair singed. I'm also informed that the event lives under the constant threat of being banned. This, in a country where they routinely run with bulls.

It's hard to pick a video that does justice to what actually goes on, but below you will find the one in my collection which comes closest. Please be kind regarding my abilities with the camera - there is no manual focus on this device's sole video recording mode. Also, eventually I have a devil breathing fire at me, and being calm in such a scenario is not an easy task. At the beginning you should just be able to make out a marching band in the background. The fiery part of the equation will eventually make itself known. Turn your speakers up, if you have them.

With my ears bleeding - this may explain my current illness, but whatever - I stumbled towards some food and spent the rest of the night with a couple of peeps traversing some of the concerts around town. The next major event was the following evening, at the festival's closing fireworks display. So once again: more fire, more flashing lights. The display took place around the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya at the base of Montjuïc, with people lining both the road leading up to the museum and the massive roundabout - Plaça d'Espanya - from which it emanates.

That pretty much brings the festival to an end. But the magic continued throughout the evening. The mini group in which I had found myself was naturally getting quite hungry. And what should I find in the cafetería to which we took our custom? Well, I found pizza. But not just any pizza, oh no. Pizza in a cone! Oh, the madness of it all. Of course, there had to be a picture.

The man next to me looking, in fact, more enchanted than I is Omar, whose name I hope I have spelled correctly. Sadly I can't even ask him, because I met him that night and it was his last in Barcelona. Still, for the expression on his face I shall always be thankful.

So, finally, that's that for the festival. More musings on Barcelona in general to come, of course. In the mean time, you can find an entire album of pictures of my exploits so far by clicking right here.