The plan was simple.
A group of 12 friends would get together and spend one
amazing night in Zaragoza for the Fiesta del Pilar. Great! Sure we didn’t have
a place to stay. Sure we would be there for 27 hours straight. Sure our funds
were limited. But hey, the intention was to party non-stop and have the time of
our lives with a great story to tell afterwards. What could possibly go wrong
with this plan?
Yeah. Everything.
The trip started out well enough. We packed our book bags
with sheets and enough liquor to get an elephant drunk and headed off to the
Logroño bus station at 9am on a Saturday morning. We made sure that we all got
our tickets and ended up on the same bus and headed off to, what we thought,
would be a great time.
We arrived in Zaragoza at about 1pm. We saw some great
sites. Beautiful architecture. Interesting alters for Pilar. Spiritual parades.
 |
| The alter in the middle of the plaza. |
When we first got to the city, we were a bit confused. We
couldn’t figure out where all of the infamous crowds were and had to find our
way to the tourist office to get maps and directions. We did manage to make it
to the main plaza and saw this huge live flower alter made to honor the Virgin
Pilar (I’m not positive, but I have been made to understand that all of these
virgins are merely variations of the Virgin Mary…I should research this more
but let’s be honest, we were only there for the parties).
Now this is where the story takes a turn….
Fae (she shall be called because I consider her to be a
Scottish fairy) thought this would be a GREAT time to start making jokes and
calling into question the validity of Mary’s virgin status. And thus began the
smiting. From that moment forward, anyone that chose to remain in Fae’s company
was met with God’s wrath and sense of humor.
 |
| We actually managed to capture the smiting on film. |
We left the plaza and went to lay around in a nice local
park for a bit. I would hate for you to believe that we seek out these sorts of
tranquil settings for their aesthetic value. In fact, I couldn’t tell you what
that park looked like now to save my life. We had one purpose, and one purpose
only. To get wasted. We quickly spread out our sheets on the grass and got to
the bottle poppin’ portion of the program. And boy did we pop bottles! We all
quickly found ourselves in a drunken haze and only abandoned our tipsy retreat
when we were, suddenly, overrun by even more drunken 12 year olds (no, you
didn’t read that incorrectly- they were in fact 12...14 at best).
 |
| The aforementioned drunk children taking over the park |
We ran to the nearest city bus and then proceeded to head in
the direction of what we thought was the Oktoberfest event. Wrong! Clearly our
communication was already taking a turn for the worse because we were, in fact,
headed to another grand tent party. No big deal.
Half way through the bus ride, my roommate, S, was overtaken
by her blood alcohol level and looked to be on the verge of vomming on the bus.
The Spanish clearly do NOT play that! The bus driver made an impromptu stop and
several riders shoved helped her off the bus. Luckily, before the doors
fully closed Sweet P jumped off the bus to help her out. The last image I had
of them that evening was S waving sadly as the bus pulled away and she resumed retching.
And then there were 10. (Smite #1)
We made it to the tent shindig and ran through the line (they
made us throw out our remaining liquids, which included my Redbull that I
planned to help me stay awake). But this was okay because we were pumped and
ready to start the party!
After getting through security with our lightened loads we
were quickly informed that we had gotten into the wrong line and needed to go
around the block to the line for people without a prepaid party pass. (Smite
#2) We were sad to have wasted our drinks but headed off with faces stretched
with smiles anyhow. Silly us! The line that we were supposed to get into
stretched for about a mile and a half -and this was by no means a single-filed
line. (Smite #3) We decided to give it a go regardless. I mean, really, why the
hell not? Where else were we going to go?
After 2 hours and only ¾ mile progress, I grew delirious,
restless, and worst of all…sober. Luckily, I wasn’t alone in this feeling.
Unluckily, I was not alone in this feeling. The line was completely still. Due
to a strong wave of delirium and the cold night that was steadily settling into
my bones, I decided to rally the troops and vehemently insist suggest
that we find a bar. RG-1 was busy macking it to a scarecrow and a few other
people in our gang seemed to have been frozen to their spots. The rest of us
were ready to move on to greener pastures but, of course, we couldn’t just bow
out gracefully and walk away. We left with a bang! Cursing, calling the other
people morons, berating them about every ill decision that they had ever made
in their miserable existences and stormed off. (Ok, it wasn’t THAT dramatic,
but the aftermath was equally embarrassing). And then there were 6.
We stomped off in search of a bus and finally found one that
said it was heading back into town. As we drove past our friends in line we
quickly realized that we had actually been only moments away from entering the
party. However, our pride just wouldn’t let us go slinking back. (Smite #4)
Eventually the bus pulled up to the curb and the driver
yelled out that it was the last stop and told us all to get off… We had
absolutely no idea where we were. And even better, there was not an open bar in
sight. (Smite #5)
At this point, the night had grown colder and we had all
grown more bone weary. We found a café and ordered some hamburgers (something
my stomach still has not forgiven me for) and C. Beezy went off in search of
possible hotels. That turned out to just be a late night stroll because it
turned up no results. (Smite #6) Not for most of us anyway. One hotel was way
over priced and quickly vetoed by the group at large. However, one of the
group…let’s call him “The Deserter”…decided that he would prefer to cough up
the cash and snuggle up on his own in the available room. To be “fair” he said
one of us could split the tab with him. We decided to stay together and off he
went into the night with nothing but a t-shirt and a night of restful sleep
ahead of him. And then there were 5.
We roamed aimlessly for a while longer hoping against hope
that a hotel room would become available to us. It never did. Also, the irony
of the evening was not lost on me. Fae just HAD to insult the Virgin Mother and
now we were doomed to wander the streets unable to find any room at an inn.
Thanks, Fae! (Smite #7)
Finally we decided to just head back to the bus station where
there would at least be shelter and the possibility of sleep. Please note that
by this time it was nearly 3:30am.
On our way to the bus station, I noticed a group of revelers
headed in our direction. They were pretty drunk and rowdy and had already made
some disparaging remarks to a few of the people in our group ahead of me. As
they past me, the guy at the end began to stare at me strangely. I gave him my
best Miami girl “What the hell are you looking at?” face and kept walking. He
decided he wasn’t through with me yet and suddenly grabbed my arm with enough
force that my free hand began to become a fist. He then yanked me toward him,
saying something in Drunk, and palmed my butt with all the force he could
muster before sprinting away. I, being of sound mind and Dade County spirit,
immediately swung for his face. He managed to dodge my hit and went running off
leaving me screaming like an insane banshee in the middle of the street. I was
with a less…reactive…group than I am accustomed to so they were all for
brushing off the moment and continuing on to the bus station. I continued to
seethe and stomp around like a petulant 5 year-old for the next hour of our
walk. (Smite #8-10)
We finally got to the bus station and apparently stumbled
into homeless heaven. I know how insensitive that sounds, but truly there were
people sleeping everywhere, travelers and vagabonds alike. We quickly found an
available corner, spread our sheets, and tried to get down to the business of
trying to catch some zzz’s on freezing cold tiles.
After some readjusting and group spooning, we were finally
on our way to sleep (Geordie was getting suspiciously close to a homeless man).
We actually managed to squeeze in about 30 minutes of sleep though.
Then came the Doppelgangers. A group of Brits with the same
names as a few of our British group members and their very own Scottish girl
that sounded rather like Fae entered the bus station and shushed each other
because of all of the people around them trying to sleep. I guess they didn’t
take their own request seriously because they promptly began to yell at the top
of their lungs. Somewhere in the night, I completely lost my mind and began
yelling “Literally! Shut the hell up!” from my floor bed. (Smite #11)
They eventually tired themselves out and went to sleep and
thus we were allowed to pass out as well. As soon as we settled into slumber,
the lights came on and two Spanish police came in yelling that everyone had to
wake up. New rules: If you were homeless you had to leave. If you had a ticket
you could stay but you had to sit up. They had a respectable business to run. (Smite
#12)
At this point, we were all at that lovely place where
laughter is nothing more than a mask for tears. We were so tired that were near
to hallucinating and everything felt surreal.
And because Fae just doesn’t know when to quit, she chose
that moment to look up to the sky and say “Really God, what more can you do to
us.”
His answer: Just watch.
Enter: The Spanish girl that needed her phone charged. We
were sitting directly over the power outlets. We told her sure, go for it. She
plugged in and sat unusually close to us. She tried calling someone a few times
and when this failed apparently, broke out into loud sobbing. At this point the
night had just gotten too ridiculous and I couldn’t hold myself together
anymore. I burst out laughing right in the girl’s face. I couldn’t control
myself. To be more polite, I swiftly ran to the closest bathroom to get the
laughing/tears out of my system. (Smite #13)
She soon fell asleep right next to us (with her eyes
creepily cracked open the whole time) and we started to settle back into our
sleep as well. An hour or so later, without warning, the sobbing disaster woke
and ran off leaving her charger behind. She did collect some souvenirs before
departing: C. Beezy’s face wipes and Granny Rose’s water. The whole encounter
was more than a little odd. (Smite #14)
 |
| She was very serious about her phone |
Finally the light of day arrived and with it came back all of
the lost members of our tribe. First the partygoers trickled into the bus
station touting stories of a fantastic night (of course). Then S and Sweet P
showed up. Turns out they also spent the evening in the bus station but they
managed to find a warm, quiet area to sleep in and had a completely restful
night. Last came “The Deserter”. He shared with the partygoers the tale of his
fabulous sleep. Fae and I gave him the look of death, to which he responded
with “I was really worried about you guys”. We… lost… our… minds! I’m pretty
sure that at some point our heads began to spin and we started spewing green
pea soup like a scene out of the Exorcist.
After several more hours in the bus station our bus home
finally arrived. Fae was smited yet again. This time by some guy that was very
serious about sitting in his exact seat number leaving Fae pinned into a corner
window for the entire duration of the ride home. (Smite #15)
We arrived later that afternoon in Logroño to a lovely walk
home through the rain. (Smite #16)
This was definitely one of those trips that were only fun in
hindsight. And while Zaragoza may never see my face again, it was definitely a
memorable trip that has laid some awesomely hilarious foundations of friendship
here in Spain.
Have you ever had insane trip that you will never forget and
never repeat? Ever made any spontaneous roadtrips with serious backlash? Ever
slept in a bus station? Do share!
¡Hasta Pronto!
XOXO
