Barça, Barça, Barça!

More photos in this Flickr set.

Last night Barcelona won the European championship for the first time since 1992, and the city went wild. As soon as the game was a foregone conclusion, I jumped into a cab and headed to the restaurant to meet Amy, Jordi, and Roser. The cab driver was visibly nervous as people began to pour out into the street, first behind us and then all around us; it was almost like surfing a wave of ecstatic people. He told me that as soon as he dropped me off at the restaurant, he was headed straight out of the city to wait out the pandemonium.
The restaurant was nearly empty, and all of the clients were out-of-towners who seemed baffled by all of the excitement. As soon as the last table paid and left, we headed out into the street and joined in the river of people walking down toward Plaça Catalunya and the Ramblas. The din was incredible; anyone who had anything to make noise was using it: car horns, motos, and air horns. The rest just shouted at the top of their lungs. As we headed down toward the Ramblas, the crowd got thicker and more excited, until we got to Plaça Catalunya and couldn't go any further. People there were lighting flares, waving giant banners, and climbing street lights and newspaper kiosks. A few guys started to take off their clothes and moon the crowd, but most people just chanted Barça cheers, toasted each other, and waved their flags like mad.
By the time we threaded our way back out of the crowd, nearly all of the taxis had left the city center, so we ended up walking the 45 minutes or so back home. With each block, the crowd got thinner and less rowdy, until finally only the occasional banner-waving moto riders were zipping by. Back in Les Corts things were pretty calm, but given that the victory parade route passes right by our street to Camp Nou, tonight could be a different story.