One thing that keeps striking us on this trip is all the friends we’re finally meeting for the first time after so many emails and calls, some for several years. At every stop we’re met with a new set of warm embraces and friendly smiles. Barcelona was no different.
We’d been emailing back and forth with our buddy Antonio Blanco for over two years and were really looking forward to meeting him in his hometown of Barcelona. (Antonio’s Urban Clothing distributes our DVDs in Spain as well as West Coast Choppers parts and apparel.) We weren’t prepared for the welcoming he had arranged for us! After checking in to our hotel (excellent by the way) we wandered down the street to look for him; he’d told us, “Just go down the street, you can’t miss us” so we just headed down into the neighborhood. As we get to end of the street we see a traditional tapas bar crowded with people enjoying a late afternoon drink and apparently Antonio’s crew has taken over the whole street corner. As we approach the table, a mountain of a man stands up and with a hearty laugh embraces us like we were little children (Antonio played professional rugby in England...’nuff said.) Immediately wine is ordered and we sit down to share a feast of torradas, fried calamari, Serrano ham, mussels and roasted tomatoes...
While Antonio and his crew head back to the office to finish up some work, Scotty and I walk to the beach and reflect on how the trip is going. We were still reveling in the first half of the trip punctuated by the amazing event in Speyer the night before and having never been in Spain, (Catalunya to be exact) we wondered what the next few days held in store. We had a Choppertown screening and party to prepare for and we’d been invited to attend the exclusive Bread & Butter fashion week taking place across from the Royal Palace...well ”invited” might be a term I’m using a bit loosely here...Bread & Butter is one of the most exclusive fashion expos on the planet where everyone from Tommy Hilfiger to Armani unveils their upcoming lines. Our friends from Dickies were having a booth at the event and had said “Come by when you’re in Barcelona!” so we took that as an invitation! One set of hastily prepared “credentials” and a confident “just act like we’re supposed to be here” discussion with the officials at the entry and we were in. We felt a little out of place in our flip-flops and Bermuda shorts, but like we always like to say, “F-ck ‘em if they can’t take a joke!” We caught up to the Dickies gang who were also feeling a bit out of place and were happy to see us; as soon as the show was finished we headed out for more tapas.
The following day we met up with Antonio and headed over to the industrial warehouse turned rock club, Razzamatazz. Honestly, there probably isn’t a more appropriate Choppertown venue on the planet. It was basically like a massive version of Rico’s garage if the welding equipment was replaced by a bar and stage. Antonio had said that he felt pretty confident that some people would show up, but it was getting late and we were a bit nervous. We got a beer across the street in a little dive joint and waited, and waited and waited...8 o’clock, 9 o’clock, is anyone coming?
Now many people don’t realize how late the Catalunyans eat “supper”, actually all over Spain, France and Italy they don’t usually have their big meal of the day until after 9pm which is plenty late by American standards, but in Barcelona they don’t even think about eating until 10pm...which is just about the time it was when we heard it... the first rumble of a V-twin motor blasting up our tiny side street. Antonio just looked up and said with a smile, “You guys gotta trust me!” Within thirty minutes there were a hundred bikes lining both sides of the street. We were introduced to everyone and even presented with handmade plaques commemorating the event...some time later, Kutty was kick-starting his bike on the big screen and a cheer rose into the warm night.
Muchas muchas gracias hermanos. Visca Catalunya.



























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