This weekend was the long Spanish holiday weekend of San Juan. The fiesta de San Juan is a pagan tradition given Christian sanction for it dates back to an ancient celebration of the Midsummer Solstice. It is a festival of bonfires and mayhem in the streets, echoed all over Spain.

The climax of the festival comes at midnight on the 23rd when juas, large cloth figures filled with sawdust, paper or similar materials, are set on fire. These figures are made by the people of the neighbourhoods and usually represent a grotesque caricature of some public figure. The bonfire is also the occasion to get rid of old furniture, which helps to keep the fire burning much longer!

Most of the bonfires prepared to burn the juas are set up along the beach. When the flames have dwindled to an appropriate size, young people start jumping over the fire, demonstrating great ability in a competition of skill and bravery. At the same time the rest of the group continues to dance around the fire.

According to tradition, the night of San Juan is magical (in Rome it is thought the witches fly) and anyone having a swim in the sea or who washes his/her face with sea water at the stroke of midnight will conserve eternal beauty.

Well, needless to say, I didn’t wash my face with sea water. In fact, I avoided the beach altogether. Ended up eating sushi with Lennea - a friend of Loebers from NYC - and drinking a few copas de cava. Fell asleep relatively early in the back bedroom.

Woke up on Thursday morning bright and early to Ariel phoning me and hanging up. And then phoning back. Turns out that I made some slightly drunken plan with him to go to Cannes for the weekend. Next thing I know, he was knocking at my door with a full suitcase packed and a smile on his face. Freak!

After much prodding and poking, I finally got in the road trip mood and we were off. In the Smart car to Cannes. Can I say that the car might be called Smart, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that the passengers are of the same class… Yes, we are insane. Driving on a 700 kilometer road trip is not exactly the smartest thing that one can do. Not only is the car a death trap on the road, it is also extremely small and not very comfortable for a hungover Stephanie.

Well, 7 hours later we were in the beautiful French Riviera. Greeted by John at the Hilton Nogu.

I hate fireworks

Bonita was still in Cannes following our other trip, so we hooked up for dinner and drinks with her Thibaud and Cliff. There was some massive craziness going on at our restaurant due to the Euro 2004 match between Portugal and England. Anyways, ended up going to some other party for a bit and then onwards.

The Happy Couple

Spent the next day hanging out with Bonita and Thibaud. Did a little bit of suntanning aka trying to prematurely age my skin. Had a quiet dinner with John and then went to some lame party at Jimmyz. Being my typical self, I decided that the glam world of advertising doesn’t really suit my PMSd condition, so I went to bed early.

Yum Steak

Rose early and jumped back in the Smart car Barcelona bound for another 6 hours. Invented some rather silly games to keep myself awake that consisted of me screaming at the top of my lungs every time a car from another country drove by. Went something along the lines of:

German
DEUTCHLAND!

Netherlands
There are two things that I can’t stand. One) people that are intolerant of other people’s cultures and two) the Dutch

Italian
Spaghetti, ravioli, fettuccini, parmesan

Spanish
Ole! Viva Espana!

French
Wee wee! Merci!

See what I mean when I say that people in Smart cars are not necessarily smart? Well, at least it kept me awake long enough to make it back to Barcelona alive.

Last Cannes adventure