Below, you’ll find a quick video clip … I suppose a video that would be quite unentertaining without a quick introduction from myself.

This little bar … literally, in an alleyway, off of a side street, and barely marked from the outside … was the first place Brian and I decided to have a cerveza at in Spain. Our arrival was marked by an unfortunate, but somewhat humorous event. We found out after missing two buses to Sevilla, that when you get on a car ferry, and ride five minutes across the river separating Ayamonte (Spain) from Vila Real de Santo Antonio (Portugal), the time changes.

Our time in between missing these buses was spent drinking the cold, tasteless, and highly carbonated beer that is Cruzcampo, eating tapas, and drinking our first Spanish vino. Towards the end of the evening, we decided we really needed to focus on finding a place to stay. We were directed from the bartender to a hostel which we found to be closed. After this, we embarked on what turned out to be a one hour plus walk around Ayamonte in search of a place to stay. We walked aimlessly, without directions from anyone, and not surprisingly found nothing. We tried to talk with a couple people along the way – but, with us speaking (very) minimal Spanish, and them speaking minimal (or no) English, we had no luck.

Frustrated, and arguing about something, we tried to figure out how to get back towards the city center as our aimless walking had taken us to a residential area of Ayamonte. Soon, we found what would be classified as the area around the city center of Ayamonte. We blindly navigated our way through the alleyways of town – when, somehow unbeknownst to us still, we turned a corner and found our watering hole.

Earlier on in the evening, our watering hole was deserted. Two or three hours later, we walked in to find the below scene. An extremely smoky bar, filled with many drunk local Spanish men – all clapping and listening to traditional Spanish music.

You won’t be able to tell from this video, but it really was fascinating. They could all make different clapping sounds for different songs … and nearly everyone in the bar was taking part at some point in each song. All impromptu – a bunch of locals having a good time out. The man with the jean jacket was doing everything he could to teach me to clap along. While we couldn’t communicate with each other (at all), I had a terrific time.