Saturday arrives just too soon. I still have some things on my list I want to do on this trip. So I get up quite early, find a café where they serve croquetas and have some breakfast. The churros are not as tasty as the ones from the other place near Aljaferia, but according to Maps that one has closed. I ask for croquetas, but they only open the kitchen at 1. So I decide to come back. I just happen to be near the starting point of the bus turístico and decide to take another tour of the city. Without hat (which I left in Alemania anyway), sunglasses or sunscreen or food or water I get on the bus and see the beautiful places again, but the audio commentary is as wrecked as it was in summer. What a shame, I would have loved to listen to more details.
After the tour I buy a lottery ticket and did the whole conversation in Spanish which makes me incredibly proud. I feel I am not afraid of talking and understanding per se, but more of being asked something I didn’t prepare in my head over and over again. So now I know that’s something I can work on. I take a bus to get to one more place on my list, but the connection bus is late. I get a delicious chocolate covered palmera from a nearby bakery for the wait and get scolded by an older man for eating it in public. I think. I didn’t understand him and he didn’t answer when I asked him. Maybe he was just admiring my t*ts and got angry that the days of men being able to touch whatever they want are over? They are very strict here in Spain about stuff like this, I love it.
The bus finally arrives, and some stops later, I find myself in kind of a pilgrimage. It’s the Héroes del Silencio monument and there are quite a few fans here taking pictures. They are asking me if I wanted them to take a photo of me, but I hesitate to give others my phone. Only the sun is shining so bright and I can’t take a selfie because I don’t see anything on the screen and I ask the girls who are next in line for help. Since there are so many people waiting, I cut the trip short, and instead have a chat with the group who asked first. They went to all the concerts in Spain and are clearly excited about the one tonight. They seem a bit older than me and are pretty chilled like so many others I met here.
Next stop is the nearby supermarket where I get coffee capsules and rodeo mix and some Reiseproviant for later. I don’t want to carry the stuff on the bus, so I call a cab. The driver is drawing circles in the nearby neighbourhood and stops at some point. After a while I text him and he says, the car was wrecked, I should cancel and order another ride. I do so. The driver also does a crazy route and stops at some point. Asked, he answers something with a police incident and I should call another ride. I switch to another service, but their driver is an hour away. So after I already waited for half an hour, I install another app and order a ride with a third cab company. They say, a guy named Alvaro in a Volkswagen will be here shortly. He is, but on the other side of the road than the app showed me. But he is giving signals and I get on his cab. It’s a short ride, the driver is very relaxed, it’s the most pleasant taxi ride I had on this trip.
I decide to have another siesta before leaving for the venue, but I am way too wired. So I just relax a bit and get ready for the night. Before calling another ride, I return to the café from this morning and want to take some croquetas to go, but by now the kitchen is already closed again. Luckily, they have some croquetas left and heat them up in the microwave. At least some dinner to go. Outside I decide to not experiment again with the two cab companies and go straight to the third option, and guess who is picking me up? Right, Alvaro and the VW! I ask him (again, in a whole Spanish sentence!) if he was the only taxidriver in this town today. And he laughs very heartily and says, „looks like it!“ When he pulls up at Pabellón Príncipe Felipe, I tell him that we probably meet once more later – he nods and laughs again. On the way to the venue a guy with CDs in his hand asks me if I speak English. They are a Metal band from Estland and selling their new album, on kind of a „pay what you like“ basis to cover their costs to get back home. They are thrilled about me being from near Hannover, some of them instantly yell „SCORPIONS“ and yes, they totally win me over with this. I buy their two albums for my husband, just to find out at home that he already has three albums of this band and their earlier formations. Some paths you cross with people are just weird.
After I part ways with the Estonians, someone is greeting me. I say hello back and am confused – who knows me here? I look again and it turns out it’s the group from the monument earlier! We walk a bit together, they tell me they’re from Galicia and are thrilled that I know where it is. Well, that’s Bogomagic – you meet people, learn from which places they go to concerts and suddenly you know all kind of regions in this beautiful country. The queue is already crazy and I walk up to the front to see if I find the girls from last year or some of the Bogofans. I run into some of them – and learn that they were organizing the queue! But since I got here so late, there is no chance to squeeze me into the list without agitating people. I’m totally fine with it. People who camp outside the door deserve the spots front and center, plus I had seen the show in Barcelona already and was pretty sure he wouldn’t go into the audience. Our place last year, first row, but to the side, was just fine, I’d be happy to repeat it. I find the girls from last year. We talk a bit, but suddenly a woman next to them is asking me where I am from and I end up in a conversation with her and her friend. She’s from Mexico, but living in Europe and thrilled about my tattoo. She takes pictures of my arm and brings over other people to show them. I am not sure, but this might be the woman who was very rude last year when I was only looking for the correct entrance with no intention of cutting the queue. But well, times change and people do, too. They are asking me about my favorite song, but while I can answer that over a heartbeat regarding HdS, I am still thinking about my favorite Bunbury solo song while I am writing this. There are just too many and one for every mood. Canto gives me a lot of emotions, I love the power of Contar contigo, Nuestros mundos was the one that struck me like lightning when I fell into this rabbit hole after so many years, Salomé is definitely one I can listen to over and over again, or Alicia, or Actitud correcta, or En bandeja de plata … the new album wants you to sit down in a bar with a glass of heavy red vine and a thick cigar, even if you don’t drink or smoke or both, and there are so many live versions that turn the original song into something completely different – this list would never end. This man has created so many musical masterpieces; I simply can’t choose. There, I’ve said it: I have preferences, but I don’t have one single favorite Bunbury solo song (so far). Sue me. Or not.
The Mexicans seem to drink a lot of beer while waiting, but they are fun. Suddenly they start singing La Chispa Adecuada – and the Aleman chick next to them (who had only water, but is breathing the Spanish air which makes her very party peoply, you already know that) forgets the world around her and joins them. Standing downtown Zaragoza and singing one of the most famous and most beautiful Héroes songs from the top of my lungs – there are miracles happening in this city and you can’t convince me otherwise. Shortly after that the line starts moving; they open up a fourth line for people to get in. But the doors are still not open. I try to find my place in the queue and join the Galicians which whom I arrived. The weather is changing, there are dark clouds moving towards us from two different directions, there’s lightning and a very strange light. We hope to get in before it starts pouring and as if someone heard us, they open the doors. People start running as soon as they reach the ramp into the building, some cutting others, but I decide not to run. I will take whatever spot I can get. Turns out, there’s some space in the front on the left (where else …), pretty much as last year, maybe even closer to the center. I settle down next to a couple and a family with a kid. Some time later I ask the couple if they could save me the spot since I need to find the bathroom. It’s a horror trip, up the stairs which are very high, and no rail. The bathrooms just have an emergency light on and I just hope not having to pee again for the rest of the evening. The way downstairs is worse than up. I don’t understand why there is no accessible bathroom, I can’t be the only one around a few thousand people who has trouble with steep stairs in a stadium? My spot is still there, I thank my „neighbors“ and join the mother and kid on the floor. Once again, I am in so much pain, I am not really sure how to make it through the night.
When 21:00 draws nearer, we get up, the family asks me to switch places so their kid can stand closer to the barriers which is fine by me. I really love those conversations – someone is asking something, I tell them I don’t speak very much Spanish, but understand quite a bit, they say, they don’t speak English, but somehow we manage to understand the other just perfectly. And I can’t even say in which language this dialogue was done afterwards.
The show starts and in the front rows it’s much more magic than in a seat far away. But I’m happy anyway that I went to Barcelona because I already took some very cool pictures and videos and now I can just enjoy the concert. It’s incredible again – they haven’t been playing together for 20 years before this tour, but that’s the thing with professionals, you don’t notice it. They have an amazing chemistry and each one is fantastic on his own. But again, I don’t have such a strong connection with these songs, so I have an amazing time and god knows I love this man and his voice so much, but I feel like something is missing. Or it’s just the annoying people in the front who keep shoving and fighting over inches of space. Before the beginning there was even some kind of fight. A woman next to me whom I noticed outside in the front of the queue and think I even saw her in Barcelona and last year in Zaragoza got shoved by a lady who arrived late. After a few rounds of passive-aggressively pushing, the first women gave her a good smack with her hip which of course led to the other one complaining. But I have to tell you, I am completely siding with the first lady here, she must have been waiting in line for hours and ran to the front and then someone is arriving late, getting aggressive and then complaining? No way, you can’t do that. She even started crying which apparently made my „Spanish soul trapped in a chubby Aleman body“ appear because I couldn’t help it and gave her a encouraging pat on the shoulder. I am from northern Germany, I usually don’t touch or hug people, I prefer greeting my friends from a mile away. But anyhow, I felt so, so sorry for her. Good thing the security guy apparently also noticed that she wasn’t the aggressor in this case but just defending herself. The other woman gets on my nerve in the following hours, several times she’s stepping on my toes (I HAVE FIVE F*ING BLISTERS ON THAT FOOT, LADY!!!), keeps pushing and bullying. Also, there are people running back and forth from the middle to the side and back again. Some argue with the family because they always try to run through their group. Later, someone is bathing my leg in beer or lemonade, who knows.
What confuses me deeply is the fact that I recognize people from last year. Not Bogofans or faces from social media fan channels, no, there are people I literally saw last year at La Romareda. I don’t know if they also recognize me, I guess not. But speaking of recognition, there’s a weird moment in all this madness. I’ve been saying this since last year’s concert – after a Bunbury concert you have the feeling he made eye-contact with every single person in the audience during the show, no matter if there are 3000 or 30.000, everyone is silently greeted and appreciated which I think is a fantastic skill. While he’s on our side of the stage and taking a look at everyone, he’s looking in my direction and seems to be confused for the fraction of a second. I don’t know if anyone else noticed it. But I have the feeling like he has a thought like „didn’t I see you here last year in Zaragoza at exactly that spot?“ or maybe „hey, you with the mask, weren’t you also in Barcelona two days ago?“ – I just hope it’s not, „green hair and a mask – you’re the one with that intense e-mail!“ (I’ll spare you with further details.). Now I’m scared it’s the third option.
Anyway, the rest of the evening is magic. I love the fact that the master himself seems to be stepping in a time machine during his concerts – I already noticed this last year. He starts the show like one of these last century’s showmasters (if you know what I mean you know) and seems to turn younger by the minute. It has nothing to do with the clothes and changing them during the night, it’s the whole package, the movements, the gestures, the face, the smile. There was a headline some time ago, „concerts prolong your life“, and it just comes to mind now – like he’s absorbing his fans‘ energy, but giving it back a thousandfold to everyone. You feel different after these shows, I cannot describe it. It’s pure magic, you can’t explain the trick even if you think you know. Even the two fighting women make up and are at some point hugging and kissing on the cheeks. The great magician and his cabaret on the stage won’t let go anyone home with only so much as a hint of negative feelings. I already prepare for getting overwhelmed when they play Canto in the end, but surprise – it’s El viento a favor which is of course more suited for this town where they even gave the wind its own name. Another great song and since I didn’t expect it, I forget to cry. I am just feeling happy and content and that my mental battery is recharged to the fullest. It also outweighs the fact that this is already the last night of my trip and I have to say goodbye to beautiful Zaragoza in the morning.
But when the lights go on again, it’s not the end of the evening. My friends from Zaragoza find me and I leave with their group and we want to go for a drink. I have trouble with the large stairs, but this seems to be the only exit. Someone is making fun of me taking one step after the other, but I have trouble lifting my leg and I feel already dizzy from the height and the people and everything. So I ignore it and just focus on the climbing.
Outside we find a bar and it’s the perfect last night on the town. They also take me to my hotel and on the way we listen to La Torre Picasso. They even turn up the volume „to hear Pepe better!“ and I love everything about it. So on this day in the most amazing town of Zaragoza I did not only get to sing La Chispa Adecuada with strangers, but also to sing La Torre Picasso with friends. This is the most beautiful place in the world.
At the hotel I pack most of my things so I won’t have to do everything in the morning. And then I decide to enjoy one last evening on my balcony. Zaragoza is giving me a spectacular light show as a farewell gift. I can see sheet lightning in the darkblue sky over the illuminated basilica, it’s breathtaking.
