As our 4-day weekend approached us in the beginning of October due to National day in Spain, we quickly gathered and decided that we needed to take some form of action. Our first line of business was to experience the Spanish nightlife. On one Saturday night Liz, Amy, Iñaki, Marta, Iratxe, Graham, Andrew, and myself went out to play a game of dados and go to the discos. The one thing I learned, which actually seems pretty smart, is that everyone chips in 10 euros and one person buys all of the drinks for everyone. So we all gave our money, trustingly, to Iñaki. We started in Santutxu while we met up with everyone and then headed to a bar closer to Casco Viejo. It was at this bar that we were introduced to the lethal game of dados, El Señor de Tres, or, Lord of the Threes.
El Señor de Tres is a dice based game that you play at bars in Bilbao. Basically each number warrants an action, one of the more lethal of the rules was the señor de 3. Basically, everyone rolls a dice at the beginning of the game to see if they are the señor de 3. If you roll the 3, than every time a 3 is rolled, you have to drink. Of course, Liz, myself, and Andrew were among the lucky that rolled the 3. By the way, there is such thing as too much of a good thing. We played this game with a drink called Kalimotxo (a mixture of half red wine and half coca cola). Chugging beer is one thing, chugging this sweet, sugar-filled drink is another. There was one time during the game when I felt as though I was going to vomit and had to sit out a couple of rounds. There was a point when I saw the last bit of Kalimotxo being drunk as I headed to the bathroom. As I was using the restroom I couldn’t help to think to myself, “Thank God it’s gone”. Feeling relieved I headed out towards our table and out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Iñaki filling up yet another round of glass with Kalimotxo. Son of a b****! I just remember thinking to myself “no more señor de 3, no more señor de 3”. After another round the game was over. Gracias a díos! On the other hand, I strongly believe that I could have lasted the whole game had I been drinking beer.
After two rounds of Señor de Tres, it was time to head to the discos. By this time I figure that it was 1 or 2 am. We headed across the river into the bit sketchier area to find some discos. A disco is a dance bar or what we would call a club. However, don’t ask where the “club” is in Spain, because the word “club” refers to a whorehouse. With that said we entered into a gay disco at the top of a hill. Don’t ask me why we were in a gay disco, but it wasn't my first time. Europe is admittedly more gay-friendly than the rest of the world and fortunately for us, they knew how to party. We naturally formed a little dance circle and choked down our 8 euro drinks that left a bit of a sour taste in the back of our throats (figuratively, of course). Shortly after 4 we departed the disco in search of another. That’s right, I said in search of another. In Spain, the discos stay open until 7, 8, or 9 in the morning!
We all got in line for the next disco until we heard that there was a 5-euro cover charge to get in the disco. After realizing that Liz and I had 6 euro between the two of us, we had to decide which one of us would go in and which would sit outside and wait. No, just kidding. Liz, myself, and our Scottish friend Graham decided that it wasn’t worth it and headed home. We later found out that our roommate Amy did not get home until 8 am that morning. All in all it was a good night. Stay tuned for my next post about the opera.
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