Ham Bandits
June 1-5, 2016
We started planning our trip to Barcelona the day the lineup for Primavera Sound was released in January of 2016. Dozens of our favorite bands from around the world would all be playing at the 3-day festival for a mere €180, the cost of seeing only a few of them individually. Our friend Eric in San Francisco was equally excited about the stellar lineup and wanted to base his summer travel plans to Europe around the festival, so we quickly began booking flights and finding an AirBnb for the first weekend in June.
Primavera is set up differently than other music festivals. The first thing we noted when the performance schedules were released was that this festival was very much going to run on "Spanish time." Much like how the nightlife in Barcelona doesn't get started until well after midnight, the music at Primavera doesn't start until 6pm, and goes all through the night until 6 in the morning. Being old, we reeled at some of the 3 and 4 am set times, but both agreed that we would try and be children about it and stay up as late as we could to watch our favorite bands.
We split an AirBnb with Eric and another Seattleite in town for the festival named Josh. The apartment was based in the El Raval district, conveniently close to good nightlife areas, the waterfront, and not far from public transit that would take us directly to the festival grounds. After everyone had arrived into town on Wednesday night and settled into the apartment, we explored the neighborhood and wound up at a Manchester Bar with walls adorned with Smiths lyrics. Around 3 am the four of us made our way to a festival-sponsored concert where Scottish DJ duo Optimo was playing, but we (Kirb and Mazz at least) thought it was terribly boring music. Proud of ourselves for giving it a good college try and staying up as late as we did, we called it a night after a few uninteresting songs.
The positive of having the music start so late into the evening is that it gave us the entire day to sightsee. We decided the first order of business on Thursday was to get lunch at La Cova Fumada, a tapas restaurant that had come as a top recommendation from locals and the internet alike. Unsurprisingly, there was a huge lineup outside of the restaurant when we showed up, so we put our names on the list and went across the street to buy some beers to drink in the sunny courtyard facing the restaurant. The line slowly thinned, and eventually the owner, who was managing the line, started telling new arrivals that they would not be seating any more people. He obviously felt bad that we had to wait for as long as we did (about an hour), and made sure to console Eric occasionally by coming outside to tell him, "I want you to know, I think about you."
When we finally made it inside we were greeted with fresh bottles of Estrella beer. We told the waiter we wanted everything he thought was good, and agreed to a long list of dishes he recommended. The onslaught of incredible tapas and seafood that followed was unlike anything we had ever experienced. Mussels in a savory red broth, fried potato "Bombas," chickpeas with blood sausage, razor clams steamed in their shells.* Their dishes were served with two kinds of toasted bread, one with powerfully strong garlic mayo and the other with smashed tomato spread. We got octopus served two ways, minced with onions and garlic and served whole in a savory sauce. There was a whole squid seared perfectly, grilled fresh sardines, and a plate of huge grilled shrimp. The freshness of the seafood was unbelievable, and it was instantly clear why this restaurant was so beloved by locals. Stuffed and content, we finished the meal with an invigorating house special coffee cocktail called "la Pirata," made from espresso, rum, and fresh lemon. The owner was so pleased to see how much we had enjoyed ourselves, and excitedly shook all of our hands as we left. The bill for this unbelievable bounty, including a generous tip, was only €80, or €20 each. We LOVED La Cova Fumada, and will join the chorus recommending it to any who want amazing food in Barcelona.
*As Northwest razor clam purists, we must say that these were the only thing we were unimpressed by. Europeans tend to not clean out the guts of the clam, which tastes bad and can be full of sand. Nothing quite compares to a properly cleaned Washington razor clam.
Checking into the festival was quick and easy, and there were plenty of guys hanging around outside the entrance selling ice cold beers for €1, as well as virtually any drug you could think of. We were blown away by the layout of the festival grounds as soon as we walked in – it was situated right on the Parc del Forum waterfront, with easily accessible stages overlooking the sea everywhere you turned. The two main stages were about a 10 minute walk from the entrance and faced each other on either side of a large field so there was always someone performing in that section of the festival. Car Seat Headrest played early for a massive crowd, playing along with an amusing joke for their entire set that they were actually Radiohead. This joke became particularly funny when they broke into "Paranoid Android" for several minutes as an interlude during their closing song "Vincent." We saw Portishead drummer Geoff Barrow's krautrock band Beak >, then headed to the stately indoor auditorium situated just outside the main grounds for some excellent jazz from Kamasi Washington. We unfortunately only caught the end of Air's set on the 2nd main stage as the sun went down, then refueled with some cheap sausages and beer from the massive and diverse food court.
The crowd for Tame Impala was intimidatingly massive, spreading all the way to the stage on the other end of the field until it mixed with the people already staking out spots for LCD Soundsystem who were playing next. The predominantly young crowd energetically bobbed in place as there was no real room to move otherwise, and strangely sang along not to words but to simple guitar lines like the opening notes of "Let it Happen," (dun dun ta dun da dun!) which was something none of us had ever recalled seeing before. After a song or two, Eric and Josh decided they wanted none of this mass of humanity and headed over to see John Carpenter. We lasted a few more songs before crawling out of the seemingly endless crowd and enjoying it for a while from the manageable outskirts. We enjoyed a few raucous-without-trying songs from Protomartyr and let the crowd disperse a bit before making our way back to check enjoy a half hour of LCD Soundsystem's set. Next we made out way to Thee Oh Sees to dance without inhibition and howl along to some of our favorite songs from one of our all-time favorite live bands. We drank very necessary Red Bulls to keep going so we could watch Battles close out the night at 3am with a fun but sloppy set. Around 4am we attempted to catch a cab outside the festival with several hundred others who had exactly the same idea, and luckily snagged one back to El Raval after trying and failing for 20 minutes straight.
After sleeping in, we decided to get traditional Spanish sandwiched called "bocadillos" for brunch. We wandered around the neighborhood until we found a a shop that looked promising and ordered using the little Spanish we spoke. The sandwiches were packed with deliciously seasoned meat and a mountain of veggies, making all of us very pleased with what we had found. As we walked to the Sagrada Familia, Kirb found more treats he simply had to eat, including a "Catalan Cream Cronut" that was supremely decadent. We also found ourselves walking by a specialty jamón shop, which sold entire legs as well as slices of delicious cured meats by the kilo. Though he wasn't hungry at all at this point, Kirb bought a croissant stuffed with delicious ham and ate it greedily on the street.
The Sagrada Familia is one of Barcelona's most iconic buildings, and for good reason. This massive basilica designed by Gaudi and built in the early 1900s is one of the most unique and stunning buildings on the planet. We spent much of the afternoon marveling at the intricate stained glass windows letting in rainbows of colored light and staring up the carved columns at the mesmerizing ceiling.
Eric and Josh decided to rest up back at the apartment for a while since they planned on having another late night at the festival, but we headed in early to see one of our favorite bands open the main stage, Swedish psych-rockers Dungen. After some very pleasant sun soaked flute jams, Savages played next on the opposite side of the field. Surprisingly, they put on the most entertaining and energetic performance we saw the entire weekend. They were the first band we saw that pushed themselves physically, with singer Jehnny Beth shrieking and snarling and generally being a total badass until she was sopping with sweat. She crawled across the top of the crowd, instructing those below on how to hold her up properly, so she could belt out the lyrics into the sea of fans. Though it's clearly impossible to get a good picture on a cell phone from a distance in a festival crowd, we both tried to capture the moment anyway. Turns out, so did everyone else in the crowd. The person running the stage camera focused in on a cell phone in the crowd for the jumbotron. Now we have this wonderful picture of everyone taking a picture of someone trying to take a picture.
We caught up with Eric and Josh for a drink, but it was clear everyone had different things they wanted to see. This point of the festival had multiple excellent bands playing simultaneously, so some tough decisions had to be made. Mazz decided to watch all of Dinosaur Jr, but Kirb left after a few songs to go see Radiohead, whom he loves but Mazz finds totally uninteresting. For what it's worth, Radiohead were amazing, and they played Kirb's favorite song, "Talk Show Host," right as he had made his way into the crowd. After 8 songs, Kirb was torn, as the show was incredible, but he wanted to go see legendary Chicago bands Shellac and Tortoise as well. He decided to leave as soon as Radiohead gave him some sort of cue. The next song was "Exit Music," and Kirb decided that was about as much of nudge as Radiohead was probably going to give him. It took the entire length of the song to get out of the crowd and on the road back to the other side of the festival. The final note rang out as he crossed a hill, and then was out of earshot. It was a perfect.
Mazz watched all of Shellac play on a tiny stage tucked away in the corner of the festival, then met Kirb at the stage above for Tortoise. Kirb has been diligently listening to Tortoise since he was 16 years old but had never seen them live, so this was particularly exciting for him. The stage was littered with instruments, with every member switching off duties from song to song. They played some of his favorite songs from the record TNT, and he was very pleased. We decided to make an "early" night of it around 1 am and take the train home while it was still running instead of running the taxi gauntlet again. Eric and Josh were especially excited to see the Avalanches reunite at 3 am, but we were less inclined. The bands leading up to that set were Animal Collective and Beach House, who have made good records but could not keep us up for a third consecutive night until 4 or 5am.
Side note: though we were generally impressed with the scheduling for the festival, there were some serious oversights on this night. Who puts two legendary 90s bands from the same city (Shellac and Tortoise) on at exactly the same time? And who puts Beach House on at 2am? They are the sonic equivalent of Sleepytime Tea.
The one big bummer about not staying up super late on Friday was missing one of our favorite new bands, Sheer Mag. Our decision to go home when we did was guided by the fact that we could see them in Berlin the following Tuesday, but we didn't know then that their show in Berlin was already sold out. Kirb tried talking to Sheer Mag's singer Tina Halladay outside the venue in Berlin in a last-ditch effort to get into the show. He told her about how they had missed them at Primavera, and really wanted to see them in Berlin. She asked him, "Why'd you miss us at Primavera?" to which he sheepishly replied, "You guys were on at 4 in the morning, we're too old." She sarcastically retorted, "WELL I HAD TO STAY UP." We did not get into that show.
All four of us woke up earlier than we expected on Saturday morning. Having been unable to get into some restaurants the day before, we had made reservations for Saturday lunch at la Pubilla, another highly recommended restaurant. They served a prix fixe lunch menu of Catalonian fare for €25, with three choices between three courses and a glass of wine. Josh is a vegetarian who eats seafood, so he ordered for himself going slightly off menu, while Kirb, Mazz, and Eric ordered one of everything and shared three ways. The starter dishes were mussels and razor clams with tomatoes and olives, fresh garlic pasta with cod tripe, and amazingly rich steak tartar. The main course featured seared tuna with Santa Pau beans, rich blue duck rice with crispy snout, and perfectly cooked oxtail with creamed potato, mushrooms, and padrón peppers. Josh, who asked if they could make him the tuna dish without using tuna, essentially got a plate of salty beans. Dessert included chocolate truffles, a caramelized biscuit with ice cream, and a flan-style custard with fresh cream and berries. Once again, our recommendation had been spot-on, and everyone except Josh was really pleased with the meal.
After lunch we split off from the other two and took a bus to Park Güell, a public park designed by Gaudi in the early 1900s and an UNESCO World Heritage site. The architecture in the park is outstanding, with huge pillars, walkways, and benches constructed out of rock. The park overlooks the entire city, with incredible panoramic views. We wandered the park happily for much of the afternoon, enjoying serene busking from extremely talented musicians and watching some soccer on a field with one of the best views possible.
The main objective of this day before going to the festival for Kirb was to buy a jamón. Our Spanish friend Jesus had told us about the joys of having your own entire jamón at home, being able to cut yourself off a delicious slice of cured meat whenever you want. Tasting the ham at the specialty store the day before had only reinforced that this was a thing Kirb needed in his life. We made our way to an open stall market Josh had noticed near our neighborhood and hoped that there would be someone there selling whole jamóns. To our surprise, there were many stalls doing just that, as well as stands selling every kind of nut, herb, seafood, fruit, or veggie you could imagine. We made our way from stall to stall, checking the prices and sizes of the jamón legs. Using Mazz's purse strap, we had figured out the approximate maximum size the leg could be and still fit inside Kirb's bag, and used that as a measuring tape to size up the hams. After trying samples all around the market, we eventually settled on a stand that had a good price for the right size jamón. Kirb chose an Iberico black pig, "la pata negra," fed only acorns and considered the finest of the hams. The friendly meatman packed it up in cheesecloth and cellophane and happily posed for a photo as he handed it to Kirb, who joyously beamed with the light of a thousand suns.
Happy as he could be, Kirb decided the only thing that could make this day any better was tacos. Tacos are one of the few foods that Kirb cannot get a decent version of in Berlin. Kirb loves tacos more than he loves most foods/people, so they are dearly missed in his new European life. He was elated to find that there was a store called Tacos Tacos in El Raval serving traditional Mexican tacos, as well as some with a Spanish variations. We went in hesitant, as outside of the Noma-sanctioned tacos we had eaten in Copenhagen (which was run by a woman from Mexico), Europe really hadn't demonstrated to this point that they knew what a taco should be. Thankfully, the Spaniards understood. The tacos there were perfectly executed, with hot sauce that was flavorful and actually spicy. After 5 tacos each chased with cold beers and margaritas, we were feeling damn fine and ready for a final night at the festival seeing some of our favorite bands. We felt kind of bad for choosing to eat tacos instead of seeing Brian Wilson perform "Pet Sounds" in its entirety, but sometimes you just have to make the tough decisions. The Beach Boys play all the time, right? God Only Knows when Kirb would get to eat a taco again.
Our night started with one of the main reasons we were drawn to the festival, the reunion of seminal 90s post-hardcore band Drive Like Jehu, and it was everything we could have wanted it to be. We thought about leaving towards the end to catch some of Pusha T, and made it as far as the stairwell that led down to his stage before seeing the massive crowd that awaited us there and thought twice about it. We made our way back to Jehu and they were still noise jamming on the same song they had been when we left. After meandering around to catch some of PJ Harvey and 80s metal band Venom, the next big draw for us was Chairlift. They delivered one of our favorite sets of the weekend with fun, danceable pop tracks that woke us up and had us happily singing along. Eric made his way up front to pogo around for Parquet Courts, but they didn't hold our attention for too long. We ended our festival weekend with Ty Segall, clothed in a blue jumpsuit and creepy baby mask, giving a spirited, probably drug-addled performance that was a fitting sendoff for an exceptional 3-days of live music.
We didn't have a ton of time the next day to sightsee before we had to make it to the airport, so we found a burger place on a sunny outdoor strip and drank Catalonian sparkling wine called Cava and beer to kill the early afternoon. Though we had read online that it was ok to bring food products between EU countries, Kirb was still worried the man was going to try to confiscate his ham. He and Eric had joked about ham smuggling the entire weekend, including the movie adaptation "Ham Bandits" starring Andy Samberg as Eric and John C. Reilly as Kirb. Eric also suggested an alternate title, "Ham on the Lam."
At the airport, we got to watch the screen as the jamón made its was through the x-ray machine, the entire leg bone and hoof seemingly glowing within the outline of the duffel bag. Kirb spoke enough Spanish to understand the security woman ask her coworker, "Is…is that a jamón? It is! That is a jamón!" Unsure if he was in trouble, Kirb offered, "Yes, that's my jamón." Jokingly, but with a straight face, the second security officer responded, "No, that's OUR jamón." Kirb laughed nervously, grabbed his bag, and got out of there as quickly as possible. At the gate, some airline workers were telling everyone the flight was full and that all remaining carry on bags would have to go under the plane. Kirb could just imagine some baggage handler carelessly tossing a 50 lbs suitcase on his precious ham. He tore the tag off his bag and pretended he was never told to check it, cautiously carrying it with him to safely place in the overhead bin.
Once home, ham successfully smuggled, Kirb ordered a special jamón stand off the internet, and a few days later he and Mazz could finally cut into their magnificent Iberico jamón. Though there was more fat to carve off than expected, the rich, red, cured meat hidden beneath was truly exceptional. After a few weeks of enjoying the ham, Mazz posited, "You know, having this jamón is probably the coolest thing that's ever happened to this apartment." Kirb nodded his head slowly in agreement, his mouth full of sweet, sweet ham.