Published by InMadrid
"You see?" he says, nudging me hard in the ribs. "Yes," I reply. "I do see."
I see yet another round of free drinks in front of me. I see the plain-clothes policeman who just nudged me emptying his glass and then quietly slipping some money into the hand of one of the girls nearby. I see a small stage ten feet in front of me, where two people are having sex on a rotating bed.
In fact, I see a lot of things, and all of them are a little fuzzy. How did I end up here?
Everyone thinks that researching a guidebook must be the best job in the world. In truth, much of it is walking from place to place, having a drink in each, and then swiftly crossing out names on your list. By 'yawningly average bar number 27', it starts to lose some of its charm.
Occasionally, however, the job lives up to the billing. We wanted to make a guide like no other, one that told the story of the real Barcelona that we and our friends lived in, without resorting to clichés, tourist favourites or dull, repetitive reviews.
To find our information, we spoke to friends, to friends of friends and to people we found on the street. "You should meet my friend Alberto," said one woman. "He's a policeman."
A policeman indeed, who works through the night in the center of the city, wearing a creased suit and a shoulder holster. He's in his late 40s, works alone, and gets bored easily. Could I follow him around one Friday night? A shrug, a nod. It is permitted.
We meet at 1am. First stop: Tequila on c/Escudellers, "the number 1 rock'n'roll heavy-metal bar" according to its handwritten sign. The walls are covered with vinyl sleeves: Metallica, Motörhead, G'n'R. The serving staff's tattoos match the décor, right down to the faded colours. "This DJ has the absolute best selection of rock and metal in the city," says Alberto proudly, as the barman approaches. Two shot glasses are filled with the bar's titular spirit. "On the house," smiles our server. Alberto seems to know everyone in here.
Across the small, dark street is Zoo (c/Escudellers, 33), around whose kitsch entrance is mounted every Disney Happy Meal Toy animal from Bambi to Dumbo. Inside, it's dark and ultra-violet. What would Uncle Walt do? "This place makes the absolute best cocktails in the city!" exclaims Alberto with an avuncular wink to the barmaid, who then treats us to a shot of something that would melt wire.
Next, we walk down c/N'Agla, a quiet alleyway that holds little except for Shanghai, a skater hangout, a chilled and friendly place, with a vaguely herbal aroma. I sip my free drink cautiously, then stand uneasily. The waitress, "the absolute prettiest in the city" (wink, grin), points me in the direction of the toilet. It's the absolute worst in the city.
As we leave, two beery English tourists walk up to us and ask in terrible Spanish where the bullring is, giggling as they do so. We stare at them. They walk away, laughing. Tourists make us both uneasy.
"This man has the absolute most girls in the city," Alberto says, presenting the toothless bouncer at Panams Showgirls (Ramblas, 27). The man himself gives me a gummy grin as if to confirm it. "What do you like?" asks the biteless pimp. "African, Russian? Romanian?" I smile in what I hope is a non-committal way, and walk close behind Alberto as we enter a small neon-lit sex club. It used to be larger, he tells me, but now one half is Fellini's, a trendy nightclub next door owned by the same landlord.
After a few free drinks with some very friendly girls, and a show on the rotating bed that a narcoleptic might call "eye-opening", we go around the corner to Moog, a techno club on c/Nou de la Rambla, 22. Upstairs, a small room plays '80s pop and singalong tunes. "This boy," says Alberto, hugging the glitter-coated dj from upstairs, as the place closes to the public and offers us, yes, some free drinks, "is like a nephew to me. He is the absolute best dj in the city."
It's after 6am when we stagger into the daylight.
"I'm going to meet my son for breakfast," says Alberto. "It's been a pleasure." I smile, shake his hand, unsure how to express my gratitude, unsure how to make my legs work.
We hope that our guidebook truly does contain some of the best bars, djs, tapas and much more that Barcelona has to offer. As for whether we've covered the absolute best of the city - you'll have to ask Alberto.