What happens in Barcelona ...

The last weekend of May saw G and me head off to Barcelona for the Primavera festival.  There was a group of us, consisting of the same motley crew who attended last year, along with four fresh faces: C and L and E and P.  Rather than stay in a hotel (and risk any further erosion of my dignity) this year we opted for a large apartment near the grounds of the festival.

Primavera was held in the same place as last year (the Barcelona Forem), so right on the water.  The festival was great, although not as good as last year - this year it was much bigger, in terms of the number of attendees and the space over which it was spread.  That meant it was easier to lose people, harder to find them and more time was spent walking from one band to the next.  But these are only minor complaints: I had an enormous amount of fun.  My highlight was The National, followed by The Walkmen.  I think we all decided (the men included) that we had massive crushes on the lead singer of The Walkmen, who was dressed very suavely for the occasion, in a very fine suit.

Hamilton Leithhauser of The Walkmen

My lowlight was seeing Gang Gang Dance.  Not only did they not sound particularly good, but they inexplicably had someone on stage whose sole role was to wave a stick with a bin liner attached to it (like a flag).  I spent most of the set wondering why oh why they were there, particularly as they couldn't even wave the bin liner in time to the music.  

The weather was amazing the entire time we were there, and our apartment was just a short walk from the beach.  While this was not a nudist beach, an alarming number of people on it were nude.  I avoided taking photos with any of the nude people in them, both because it would be rude and also because the pictures would have been too horrible to display.  I saw more of some of these people than I imagine their gynaecologists would see on a standard visit, as they bent down and put suncream on their legs and toes.  Some of the nude people were also so large that, notwithstanding the fact they were completely nude, it was impossible to determine whether they were male or female, as their genitalia was completely obscured by their bellies.  Unattractive nude people aside, the beach was pretty fantastic.

When we weren't partying at Primavera or avoiding nudists at the beach, we were spending our days sleeping, eating and drinking.  I ate more cheese and drank more cava than I suspect is good for my arteries.  For most of the others, their poison of choice was the Barcelona red can.  Most of the cava\red can-fueled conversations cannot be repeated in this blog.  Nor can most of the stories from Primavera be repeated: what happens in Barcelona stays in Barcelona.  That means this is going to be a very short blog indeed.  Instead, I'll simply post some photos of Primavera below. 

Glasser

Until next year, Primavera! 

A quick update on summer in London

G and I have been managing to make the most of our time in London this summer.  The weather so far has been pretty patchy, ranging from blisteringly hot days (of 30 degrees, which feels much hotter in London than it sounds) down to rainy, dreary days.  Those hot days are usually spent in the sun - picnics in parks or get togethers on friends' roof terraces, drinking and eating and getting a solid dose of vit D. Last weekend the temperature hit around 32 degrees, and I celebrated by running to Hampstead Heath, going for a swim in the ponds and then running home.  It was delightful.  In fact, even though it's only mid-20s today, I'm contemplating repeating the experience.  

We have also been enjoying the theatre.  Recently we saw Rory Kinnear in Hamlet at the National Theatre.  It was about four hours of theatre, but was so good it felt it was over in a flash.  I also went with C to see Luise Miller at the Donmar.  It was beautifully done, but I would be lying if I said the play itself was one of my favourites.  Last week we saw Andrew Upton's version of The Cherry Orchard at the National Theatre.  This is a play that has been getting very mixed reviews, from those who did not mind the translation and found aspects of it brilliant and those who did like it to those who have difficulties with the Australian Upton's translation.  Perhaps it's because I'm Australian, but I really enjoyed the modern translation.  

Tomorrow night we're off to see Ghost Stories.  Not nearly so highbrow, but I'm very much looking forward to it.  I saw Woman in Black a couple of years ago in London and admit to screaming during the show - it was fantastic.  If I get the chance this week, I'll let you know how Ghost Stories goes.