"Cada Noche, Bariloche"

Flashing lights, pulsating music and con mis manos al aire (with hands in the air), its more than easy for me to close my eyes and loose myself (and possibly my whole night) in a dancing haze fueled by pure adrenaline.  And as the saying goes, there's no better place to go for this than Bariloche, cada noche.

Someone once told me, "Spaniards aren't good at working, but they're very good at partying."  And after adjusting to the Spanish lifestyle, I've seen first hand that this is a true statement.  Spanish nightlife is quite different from the nightlife at home.  Instead of going out hard for a few short hours, Spaniards enjoy...prolonging the night's festivities.  If you go out around 11 or midnight, its considered normal to return home around 7 am.  So no one gives you a second look when you're standing in front of your piso rummaging in your clutch for your keys, while still dressed to the nines as the morning paper is delivered and the sun begins to rise.  Jaen has many options for a night of bar hopping, but I can always count on one particular hot spot to end each night and begin the following morning: Bariloche.

Bariloche is a popular discoteca with an Indian-Middle Eastern theme: a far East flair, giant chandeliers with deep red glass fixtures and giant Buddha statues overlooking the dance floor.  Also presiding over the dance floor is the DJ, who always pumps an energy-packed mix of house, latin and a few American songs.  The 7-10 euro entrada (depending on the day of the week) will buy your way in and a free drink.

Last Saturday around 4 a.m., with a vodka and redbull high, we decided as usual to make the cold treck to Bariloche.  Although it's a large space and usually tightly packed, we found our own space to dance.  The night seemed to be unfolding normally until a few scantily clad go-go dancers took to the bar and made it their stage.  They were "dressed" in bright white spandex and accessorized only with multi-colored body glitter as a tease.  They hyped up the crowd with their crazy and sexy moves while sparkling confetti rained down from somewhere above.

After another successful night, we began to wander home, stopping briefly for delicious kebobs at a hole in the wall Middle Eastern place, creatively named "Kebob."  True to form, the morning papers were delivered just as we finished eating, and the sun began to rise as I kicked off my heels, shook the confetti out of my hair and finally closed my eyes.

Besitos,
B