Everyone should spend a summer in Barcelona. I picked up a message from a Singaporean DJ friend Mr. Beats;
‘Hey Babe, in BCN for Sonar tomorrow with the crew, love you to join.’
We met for drinks in The Gothic Quarter, piled into their hire car, four of us in the back seat. A couple of minutes into the drive, the menacing sound of police sirens drowned out the music.
Giddy with Sonar excitement, I had totally forgotten that three is the maximum number of people allowed in the back seat in Spain. I called a local friend explaining the situation. He sternly told me not to f*ck around with the police and do exactly as they said. I had been trying to plead innocence but swiftly dropped my line of argument on my friend’s advice! An hour of intimidation and a 400 Euro fine later, we were back on the party express heading to the venue.
Ready to dance in sparkly sequin converse trainers and a thigh-skimming black one-shouldered star embellished Grecian tiered dress, I was practically high jumping over the entrance barrier to join the sweaty masses.
The July Mediterranean sun blazing down was a heady mix with the techno splendour of German DJs Dixon and Âme. I’d never seen such a beautiful crowd of men in Barcelona. It’s official, hot men love German techno. There was a potent German / Scandi flavour to the crowd, testament to the DJ line up.
Just behind where we were dancing I clocked a towering blonde, blue-eyed Viking angel. By now it was a rammed sweatbox, convenient for ‘accidentally’ bumping into aforementioned giant viking! We kept gravitating towards each other, eyes locking playfully;
‘You remind me of someone from Ibiza’ I boldly piped up.
‘Oh, is that a good thing?’ he asked sweetly.
‘Of course, Ibiza people are beautiful.’ I coyly replied.
He smiled, we talked, we danced………strangers no more. Axel was from Sweden, making the yearly Sonar pilgrimage to BCN. He seemed a little reticent, shy perhaps or could he be gay?
The sun was getting hotter, the music louder, the crowd bigger and somehow Axel slipped away. Frantically, I looked around searching the sea of blissed out faces for those sweet angelic eyes. I couldn’t believe I’d lost him – that sinking feeling of missed opportunity, with all its hope, its promise of intrigue and beauty.
Later that night leaving the venue, a melted, happy, bedraggled mess, I rubbed my eyes in hazy disbelief as Axel came into my line of sight.
‘I’m so glad to see you again. I thought I’d lost you.’ I called out.
‘Me too, I looked everywhere for you.’ Axel replied.
I wasn’t going to let him slip away a second time. Drunk on oxytocin & serotonin from the joy of seeing him again I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips gently against his.
‘I wasn’t sure if you were interested. I thought you might be gay!’ I said
‘I’m just really shy. I’m so happy that you kissed me.’
