So tonight, we put on our fancy clothes and walked around town until we ended up with two bottles of rosé and a bird’s eye view of the port.
It happened to be the final match in the World Cup tonight, too – and the Europeans do love their soccer. Crowds gathered at the few bars that have TVs; those that didn’t found radios around which patrons huddled breathlessly cheering their team on. We couldn’t see the game, but we knew whenever something happened – sudden shouts of joy and desperation would fill the warm air above the port, and a combined murmur of multilingual conversations would rise to reach us on the balcony. We’d laugh at the crazy Europeans and return to our conversation.
But we knew Spain won – All of a sudden all the yachts with Spanish flags touted their horns in unison, piercing the night air with celebrations. People laughed and screamed below, drinking and dancing the night away.
I love this place.
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