It will soon be a year since we were last able to go out to party. So really, with other people and stuff like that. Do you still remember? We’ve all become quite sentimental about the idea of parties recently. Because it’s been so damn long since the last rave and because every now and then we get the urge to party with the best.
Barcelona nightlife is now completely idle , it has not only become quiet, it has become dead – and people have gotten used to it. That’s sad, knowing full well that there’s no other way right now. But I see it like my colleague Marit, who aptly says: “Instead of discussing whether young people can’t pull themselves together for a few months, we could simply acknowledge that we’re all missing something right now.” Friends, music, and freedom, for example.
That’s why we’re now reminiscing a bit about the Barcelona nightlife and party life that we simply miss,
In the downtown Barcelona grew up in, there were two or three places where you could dance to person on Fridays and Saturdays, where you had pre-graduation parties, and where you could meet the high school boys. Not nightlife worthy of the name, but at least places where I could drink Vodka Energy for the first time when I was 16 and feel totally grown up.
As a result, “celebrating” was more about being there – and who was there on Friday evening was easy to find out on the Internet after the weekend. I think anyone could become a party photographer (in my memory it was always men) as long as they equipped themselves with the largest possible lens and registered on the appropriate internet portal. In order to then photograph girls, who of course were all “almost 18”, in their groups and then invite them for a drink.
There are no aggressive party photographers in the Barcelona clubs I’ve been going to since I’ve been living in barcelona, and the time you spend here is rarely recorded at all. There may be remnants in the form of bottle caps in trouser or jacket pockets, clothes that smell of smoke, and the next day only the blurred stamp on the wrist will serve as a reminder of where we ended up.
Bottle caps in trouser or jacket pockets, clothes that smell of smoke, and the next day only the blurred stamp on our wrist serves as a reminder of where we ended up
I’m not sad that the party photographers have disappeared from my life, but the fact that there are hardly any photos from the Barcelona night clubs of the last few years is almost a bit of a shame when you think about the fact that these very nights are missing now. It’s been exactly a year since my last time, and luckily this evening was so beautiful and exciting and special that even without photos I still remember everything exactly: the people I was with, the beautiful sunrise, of the “one more thing to go” and of the bright blue sky on this cold winter morning, which gave me a final feeling of exhilaration on the way home. This memory is valuable simply because it was an evening of the best kind. But it is also because it has become so quiet on the dance floors since then. It will probably be a while before those changes.
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