Pride was great fun. It all kicked off about 6pm.
The parade consisted of a dozen or so floats. Festooned lorries over-packed with revellers with water pistols, skimpy outfits and buckets of good cheer. It was slightly chaotic, crazily loud, wildly enthusiastic, and delightfully unregulated. We saw one police man. And 10,000 spectators. The Spanish pretty much know how to have fun unsupervised.
The jamboree snaked its way around the town and ended up in the celebration car park. The main stage had the usual mix of miming drag, worthy speeches, and low list dance acts. It was fab.
The voucher system for drinks meant we couldn’t get too plastered. But we danced and chatted and laughed. People-watching at Pride is always fun. Some of the costumes, and some of the bodies attempting to fit into them, had us screaming with laughter.
About 11pm we headed back into town and settled at Aqua bar to nurse some epically strong free-poured G&Ts, singalong to the tacky disco songs, and chat to all the passers by. I think I could pass an A Level in Spanglish now.
We retired to our hotel about 1am. Weary after a fabulous evening. Some of the boys headed to an all-night disco party but we were content with our beds.
Tomorrow is another day. And Sunday Pride is another bucket of glitter and rainbows to be upended.
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