Santander

17 – Partying with the Alpakas

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Friday, August 1st: After a very, very short night we wake up and pack up the Grrrmaneta for the last time in Santander. Everything is a mess, there is no system anymore, and I don’t want to work on it. I feel the emotional hangover creeping up on me, but I refuse to let it begin. I have another concert tonight to enjoy.

On the parking lot I put an Ardebogofans sticker on Grrrmanetas back door. We check out and leave Santander. Next stop Alpaka Fest.

Spain is a fascinating country. You start at the coast under the clouds, in the rain and like an hour later you crossed some mountains and are driving through a desert. „South of Burgos the weather gets better“, did the guy with the dog in Hondarribia say. I see it now. With the sun, the mood also brightens. I am looking forward to Ultraligera tonight and put the emotions about the Arde concert somewhere deep inside the mess in our car.

In Salas de los Infantes we stop at a supermarket. The navigational system then says we should turn left and sends us down a dusty road right through the fields. On the way suddenly a huge black cat appears on the way (seriously, what kind of animal was that? Any ideas, anyone?) and kind of leads the way. This cat thing is not healthy, but I swear the hardest drug I’m doing now and then is an over-the-counter medicine against migraine.

We arrive on the top of Hacinas and after a nice little drive through the town we discover not only the comfortable street that would have led us here if we had turned RIGHT at the supermarket, but also the sign that says „only residents“. First impressions, German style. How embarrassing. We find a camping spot and there are already other cars parking. Speaking of migraine, I get knocked out by one the moment the motor goes off. I somehow manage to take the medicine and fall asleep for an hour right where I am sitting.

When I wake up, the camping area is kind of crowded already. We wonder if we can leave at night at all and decide to take Grrrmaneta to the regular parking lot.

The festival is incredible, you can feel and see that this is a team effort of the whole town. The decorations are lovely and the view is stunning. We get our bracelets and walk around a bit. We see the last song of Collado Project and the Skaifas gig which is really cool. The kids having very hot spiced fries for dinner and they love it. Fast food at ten in the evening, I think they are also already Spanish converts. We meet the Ultragamberras and some of the lovely people we met yesterday.

Nacho Pistacho seem to be a big crowd pleaser, the audience is quite on fire when they finish. At midnight it’s time for Ultraligera. I somehow manage to join the folks in the first row. A woman next to me is plucking the flag I’m holding. It’s not the one with the Niedersachsenross, it’s a plain Germany flag which I decorated with the UL logo, the words „Ultraligera fans Germany“ plus logo and date of the Alpaka Fest. The woman is asking what kind of flag it is and then she stares at me in disbelief: „You came here all the way from Germany to see a concert???“ Yeah, not quite. I tell her the story and she as well as her two friends start cheering: „Oh, we like Arde Bogotá as well! We will see them live next week!“ Her male friend is a bit confused: „But those are Spanish bands. You know they sing in Spanish, right?!“ Imagine a Loriot-esque, „Ach.“ If I had a Euro for every time I heard this those past days.

Several songs later the nice woman is smiling at me, grabbing the flag and makes sure the band sees it. We call it „Völkerverständigung“ and I think it’s beautiful.

The gig is as spectacular as I thought it would be, though it’s a completely different world than what we experienced yesterday. It’s a lot of show, but nevertheless it’s great. We were joking when we arrived if we should maybe park Grrrmaneta on the festival grounds to provide some climbing options, but obviously straw bales are working just fine. When the concert is coming to an end, one of the Ultragamberras throws my flag on the stage. Before they leave, she is giving Gisme signs that it is for him and pointing to me. He picks it up, smiles at me with his grown-up rascal’s grin and takes the flag with him. That’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back – I can’t hold back the tears, the emotional hangover is kicking in with more power I had ever expected.

All the time I expected to experience this breakdown on Thursday, during Exoplaneta or La Salvación or the Ooooo of Virtud y Castigo, like I was crying like a baby during Entre dos Tierras last year because it completely throw me off the track – but there were only some tears of happiness and being overwhelmed. And now I am standing in front of the stage of a festival in the middle of the most beautiful nowhere, hugging a woman I have met only hours ago for the first time in person and crying that I don’t want to leave Spain. I expect Hollywood to call any minute asking me to tune it down a bit.

Instead, Wonderland things happen and I go home with a setlist and a guitar pick. I’ve met the most amazing people here. I will miss you all and I hope we will soon meet again.

15 – ESTA NOCHE ES, ESTA NOCHE ES! Part 1

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Thursday, July 31st: Today it is! A sense of excitement seems to have covered the town. Everyone is buzzing in the morning, at our place, even the neighbors. And of course the group. Someone is posting an article about the problems at the London airports and several others. Only minutes after I finished reading, my phone is ringing – with a +44 number. UK. We’re joking, it’s either spam or Jota needs the Grrrmaneta to pick him up. I’m not answering because I am pretty sure it’s the first option, but I would for sure have sent the Grrrmaneta to pick him up.

Time is flying. We prepare for leaving, but I am so nervous, I can’t think straight and keep forgetting everything. We decide to take the car, even if we have to park outside the camping lot after midnight. It’s easier and we still have a giant basket to move.

I still have no idea how to get them the basket. There might be a small chance after the show, I was told, but I don’t see myself heading back to the car and back there in the middle of the night. I’m still in pain from the infamous Madrid beds. And I have a sunburn from hell from our beach day, my shoulder and my feet look like freshly cooked lobster. My husband completely looks like Larry today. We apply a lot of aftersun lotion and a nice layer of new sunscreen and gather our stuff. I’m too nervous to drive, I’m literally shaking. My husband is driving – and misses the correct exit. So another round through Santander. „Simone, where are you“, people are texting. I don’t know. I answer in English, since I can’t even use the translator, I forgot how to copy and paste. Finally, we are here. We find a nice spot on the beach parking lot where we parked at our first outing here. We get out of the car. Tickets, sun hat, sunscreen, some food and drinks? We leave the basket and bring only the flag. My husband’s idea. A German flag with the Lower Saxony coat of arms, a rearing horse. I am not someone waving flags except the ones of my favorite football club at their games, but this is just perfect. And we might find ourselves on the pictures with this. K1 is restless – what if we don’t get a spot in the first row? She is even more obsessed with this than I am, but she is also half a meter shorter so I get the anxiety.

We know where to find the Bogofans and I don’t care what people think who are not going to the concert, but when I see the first of them, I start waving that flag. What a welcome! It’s like we have known them forever and maybe we have. We get our numbers for the queue, 32, 33, 34 and 35, take some pictures of what we can see from the stage, my husband and the kids leave for the playground. I stay and chat with people. And work on not fainting because I am completely overwhelmed. Already. We checked – we drove nearly 3500 kilometres to be here.

The family is back. We are having a snack. K2, who was not even sure if he wanted to come, is suddenly pointing to the stage: „Look, there’s Dani!“ God almighty, he’s right! The soundcheck is about to begin.

It’s already magical. To finally hear and see them, even from far away and just the soundcheck, I am very emotional. Again. We peek a bit through the fence and take some pictures and I tell the others about the present.

„Why don’t you try after the soundcheck? We’ll ask the security at the gate. They can’t say more than no.“ I like that idea. My husband is going back to the car, getting the basket. I’m eternally grateful for not having to move.

We’re going to the gate behind the stage. The two Bogofans are asking the security guy something, I don’t get a word as usual. Only something like „I’ll ask, can’t promise, wait here.“ And on the other side „But we don’t want to bother anyone.“ I can live with that. My husband kind of apparates with two cold beers next to me. I open one, joking on how yesterday I was probably standing pantless on a deserted cantabrian beach when I saw their boat and that it would fit perfectly if now someone shows up, seeing me drinking beer in broad daylight. Hahaha. Entrance Alberto. Wtf did I just say? Holy cow. „Honey, hold my beer, please!“

I try to give Alberto the basket, telling him that we brought it 3500 km and just want the guys to have it. But somehow this doesn’t work as planned. He looks at it and smiles and then something like „I’ll go back and ask them. Wait here, five minutes tops!“ happens. Wait. What? Yes, okay, we can give them the gift on their way out, they’ll probably pass by here with the car any minute now. Mentally preparing to throw a gift basket through an open window of a moving vehicle, I get nervous. What if I don’t aim good enough? What if I hurt one of them?

Alberto appears again. We should somehow follow him. Follow what? I am not able to think straight. Follow you to see them? I can’t feel my legs. Or my tongue. I can’t feel anything to be honest besides a tornado of thoughts flashing before my eyes. I think my soul left my body for a moment. But didn’t we learn to function over the past decades? So we follow. K1 by my side, husband is convincing K2 to come as well. Alberto is talking to me in perfect German which puts my brain in complete overload. It clearly has reached its capacity. I remember we talked about Bremen, but I think I’m only babbling. Though not in what language. Maybe I’m only thinking aloud. Dear Alberto, if you happen to read this at some point – your German is perfect. My brain however, was not at that moment.

Somewhere in the backstage area we are told to wait. A man tells us to stand in the shadow. I’ve seen his face somewhere with the Bogofans and with the band, he belongs to the team, but I can’t remember his name or function. So we move up some steps. And there they are. It’s surreal. I can see the seashore and the panorama of Santander and Pepe just meters away from us. „I can see Pepe“, I am squeaking under my breath and giggling. Team Pepepower would have been so proud.

I think there are more people taking pictures with them, and suddenly someone is asking my name and ask us to step forward. This is the moment my soul left my body. It’s clear. I have died and standing at the heaven’s gate. And apparently the five Gods standing before it have to decide if they grant me entry.

Funny thing is, I seem to have thought aloud again. At least the part with the gates of heaven. Because Jota asks me if it’s not a bit warm for heaven. Okay. I have either died or I’m dreaming. Better not open my eyes. But I can hear them and see they glow through my eyelids, so it’s worth a try. One eye. Still there. Two eyes. Also still there. Breathing works. Okay, why was I here? Ah, yes, the big basket with food and things I am so desperately clutching. And giving it to the nice men in front of me. It’s all about functioning at the right moments, let me tell you!

I tell them that we still believe to be the first fans from northern Germany to see them live and that we brought some specialties as a gift for them. A round of applause. 3500 kilometres. Stunned faces. Jota takes the basket and they all try to figure out what’s inside. Someone then says something about photos and we line up for a picture. Antonio nearly kills my husband, I hope it’s unintended. He gives him a nice powerful pat on the shoulder, unaware of our Larry the Lobster lookalike contest today. We smile into several cameras and then we say goodbye. A polite handshake with all of them, except Jota, who is giving me a hug and telling me that we needed a good place to see the show. That there were sides and one has to choose wisely. Dear Sir, I might be new to this fangirling business, but that question „whose side do you chose at the concert“ is like part of the initiation rites. Remember, don’t fight with the neighbours.

I can’t believe what just happened. I was standing in line for the concert, died, went to heaven and woke up back in the queue. But I don’t clutch the basket anymore and people are giving me thumbs up and are smiling, maybe it did in fact happen?

14 – Waiting for Christmas, Godot and St. Nimmerlein all at once

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Wednesday, July 30th: Tomorrow it is. And still so far away. It’s a bit cloudy and rainy today, so I hope it won’t rain tomorrow. „This is not how the north of Spain works“, I am told. Okay then. Pack the rainjackets tomorrow, Alemania is ready for everything.

We’re having a beach day because the kids want to swim in the sea. My husband has the sudden urge to go snorkeling for the first time in decades, so we make a stop at a big store near the mall we couldn’t visit because of the height limitation of the parking grounds. What I didn’t realised until we entered the store is that they also have camping gear. So, besides flaps and two snorkeling masks we leave with a foldable table and several new towels. The self check-out once again proves that this is not a concept for me. (I told you to remind me!!!) At least the assistant was so nice as to ask me if I had a costumer card, maybe out of sympathy because I did act like someone who grow up in the woods with this system, someone with a card would be a little more experienced, one might think.

So, equipped with new stuff we leave for the beach. Finally. Something wants me to go to the other side of the bay, but of course the parking spot has height limits and Grrrmaneta once again won’t fit. So we find a quite lonely end of the bay with parking in the streets and off we go. Between some real cool looking rocks we find a spot to put our stuff and the Bay of Biscay has a real nice temperature, so even I decide to dive in.  Several little yachts set anchor near the coast, they seem to explore the little island in the bay. The sun comes out after a while and it’s a really nice day.

After playing for a while, we decide to take a break. (Voice from the off: “This would have been a good time to re-apply sunscreen. But they didn’t.”) Since I tend to get sick when wearing wet clothes too long, I start to change. But I can’t find my pants. So, what do you do? Right, you sit down and trace your steps. I was reading messages on my phone, then I took off my pants. This must lead me to my dry clothes. Taking my phone and someone is texting: “THE GUYS ARE ALREADY IN SANTANDER!!!” Oh, that’s more interesting than pants, so I check out the latest gossip. I see the guys enjoying themselves on a boat, on a jet ski …

Wait a second – that’s exactly that part of the beach where we are staying! And suddenly I realise that a new boat has arrived. Suspiciously full of young men and at least one of them with long hair. I am panicking. This might be them. And I am standing on the beach without my pants and only in a towel from the waist down. Like at the vineyard, but this time I do care that I’m not properly dressed. So many beaches in Santander, so many peaceful places and yet this happens. I’m doing a great Mr Bean reenactment, you know the thing with him changing into his pants next to the blind man, and we leave. After all, we can’t be sure if it was the band, but knowing my luck it was them and they probably also have formidable eyesight. Good thing I’m not blogging so that they’ll never learn about this extremely embarassing story.

13 – Holla, the forest fairy

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Tuesday, July 29th: Two days to go. We try to go to the Altamira caves again, but it is packed with people, we don’t even get a parking spot and people are in a queue outside the building. We decide to skip it then. Another idea was Bilbao, but we are not really in the mood for another long car ride. So we look around in the area again. My husband finds La Fuentona de Ruente which looks nice and sounds nice, and it is. When we get out of the car, first thing we see is a black cat, so we must be in the right place. We take a walk around a little park and see the cave from where the water goes into the river. If I understand correctly, there is a fairy living in that cave. It looks pretty enchanted, so I better not question it.

The little village next to it looks like a place from a fairy tale or at least from times long ago. I see a man in traditional wooden shoes and a woman in a house grown over from plants, but I don’t dare to take pictures. It’s very peaceful here.

Only the restaurant across the street shows that this is, indeed, a tourist hot spot. It’s full with tourists already and the waitress is not really friendly. She tells us something like we would have to wait a long time for our food if there was any left. Okay then, no business here as well. We are getting used to it.

Next stop is Comillas, very beautiful with a beautiful beach. We take a little walk and then try to find a little snack in the city.

What a stunning view!

In the town centre we witness someone blocking a street and causing a traffic jam. Purpose, stubbornness, stupidity? Who knows. Suddenly, a man gets out of one of the waiting cars and giving the driver a piece of his mind. Not in any way violent, but with veeeery strong language that even we did clearly understand. He smiles at the driver when he goes back to his own car and the jam dissolves. I’ll keep that strategy in mind. Might be coming in handy in France on the way home. Or in Wolfsburg at rush hour. To our surprise (or maybe not), we don’t find any place to eat in the city. So we go back to Santander and plan on buying something to cook in a supermarket. We also need soap bubbles for the concert and some snacks for the time we will wait. There’s a big mall on the way where we should be able to buy everything we need. What we didn’t know is that there are also limitations on parking grounds. So the mall is not accessible for us because Grrrmaneta is too high again. We find another supermarket near the mall and get everything we need there. Except for the bubbles, but like with the posters, the lovely Bogofans will help us with this.

When we get back to the camp ground, we are shocked: The French guests from one of the other houses took Grrrmaneta’s parking spot. Her fanclub is outraged when I tell them. So are we. The phrase „La puta Francia“ is now part of everyone’s vocabulary in the family. We work on plans how to get that spot back. Meanwhile we are listening to some good music on the porch of our little house after the kids found their small Bluetooth speaker in their bag. The kids also have a new game to play: It’s called „Ultraligera live“. K2 climbs on the porch rail and jumps down while K1 is filming this weird spectacle and cheering him on. I can’t deny they’re mine with crazy ideas on their minds like this.

After all this excitement my husband is cooking paella again. Served with some of the putas estrellas and I don’t feel like a German tourist any longer.

11 – Santander

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Sunday, July 27th, evening: We arrive in Santander at the campingsite we are planning to stay at for the rest of the week anyhow. They have another place for this night available, it’s pretty quiet here. Some people from the Netherlands, Belgium, a youth camp from France and a motorhome from Italy. Some Germans arrive at the same time we do, but we didn’t come here to make friends. At least not with German tourists with white socks in sandals.

Next to the campsite there’s a lighthouse. We take a little walk and are in love with the view. Not only can you see the whole bay and the town, you can also see the place why we are here. Only four days. It feels surreal, I started the countdown at 256.

I suddenly know where we will be going tomorrow.