It looked like Copacabana on New Years Eve …
… But it was just Barcelona beach last weekend, May 8th.
Continue to stage. Hecatombic crowds, without masks or with the dit on their chin, bottles passing from hand to hand, and Bella Ciao’s wedges covered the man-made sand (yes, did you know?) Of one of the most popular coastlines in the world. Mediterranean.
Find the birthday hat, friends (Reproduction)
The merry bololô, long invisible by these tierras, resulted in a general festive cry exactly at the twelve chimes from Saturday to Sunday (9).
The crowd, mostly young, celebrated the end of the state of emergency in Spain, after just over a year in effect.
Here and there, the police have made half-unnecessary attempts to disperse the super groups (even with the end of the state of emergency, it is still advisable to hold meetings of up to 6 people).
But the human being can be stupid and unimportant anywhere. The beings were clustered together, like insane horiguitas, some playing flamenco, others taking selfies for the posterity of 24 hours of a story.
“You are so in Europe, I thought it was more civilized,” lamented a Brazilian friend. No and yes, yes and no, right?
Also in the famous Puerta del Sol, the central square of Madrid, the “botellones” (as we call alcoholic street parties here) were in full swing:
In response to the footage, a journalist from Madrid, who lost her mother to Covid three months ago, tweeted: “We couldn’t hug her. Since then, we’ve been happy for every vaccine, for every day with fewer deaths. This dawn, dear ones, you have destroyed us ”.
***
Spanish vaccination is progressing faster and faster. For the first time since the start of the pandemic, I’ve heard health officials say they don’t believe we’ll have another spike in contagions.
What.
According to official figures, 90% of people over 60 across the country have already received at least one dose of the vaccine. In total, however, only 14.2% of Spaniards are already fully vaccinated.
In May, dose distribution began to the population between 50 and 59 years old, and is expected to expand to the 40 to 49 age group in June.
“At this rate, we may get vaccinated before August,” said a friend, a young girl (!) Like me.
The government’s goal is to vaccinate 70% of the population by the end of the summer, in September. Everything (I think, bitter, skeptical, insomniac) for tourists to come en masse to bury us in their fiesta lokas at the Shoko and airbíenbí apartments.
Making an appointment for a vaccine in Catalonia is easy, just go to the site linked to the public health system and put your name there.
Another friend, the 55-year-old woman, told me this week that she was able to book time on the web without complications. Catalan, married to a Brazilian, she shares with me the astonishment when things go well.
Two days later, on top of that, they called her from the health post to offer her an hour. In the conversation, she was also able to plan a vaccine for her husband, so that they could go together. Well, what a bunito. Only the drive-thru service is missing. I shit on God and the breasts of the virgin, as they say here.
(sorry not sorry; the Spaniards are the catholic people with the most blasphemous opus dei firulis on the planet, they shit everywhere in the sanctuary)
Today is Friday (14), a night of mild heat in Barcelona. Summer gradually seeps into the spring breezes.
(By the way, here there is also the plant that we call spring there; it is known as bougainvillea, a reference to the French who brought this beauty from Brazil. In other words, spring European is bra.zi.lê.ra. opinion, they must have baptized BRASILÍNIA, BRASILINDOAPESARDETUDO, poha… but – I digress.)
Like the fulô in calô, people infiltrate tables and outdoor bars. Daring pervades some thieves who walk the streets with their faces uncovered, as if the end of the state of emergency means the end of the pandemic. And the vague and partially equivocal idea that all is well is creeping in… well, you see. Until the next bend.