A very common Friday night in Barcelona might look a little something like this:

Friends together eating dinner and drinking a little sangria (or whatever tasty beverage can be thrown together) around 10pm.  Midnight rolls around and discussion turns to which club it would be nice to visit.  1.30am and you are out the door, giggling your way to the metro with amigos on either arm.  By 2.30am, you are dancing in the club as if there is nothing else in the world that you could possibly imagine doing at that very moment and the truth is, what else is there to do on a Friday, err, Saturday morning?

Around 5 or 6am, you notice that your feet hurt and try to remember what exactly happened between those few passing hours, before gathering up the remaining friends to head back home.  Brush your teeth, wash your face, and then fall asleep until noon the next day before deciding to repeat the entire evening again on Saturday night, except you might choose a different club.

Okay, now imagine you repeating a similar night (except maybe with a bit more class) with your mother and your godmothers.  Right.  My mom and her two best friends, my godmother and brother’s godmother (I’ve always called them Nina and Rosie) were in Spain on a ladies vacation.  They made a stop in Madrid and enjoyed the night life there- their bar stories would make most blush- before heading up to Barcelona to reunite with Rosie’s study abroad friends living in Spain and to visit with me.  I was so excited to see them and happy to walk them around my new home city.

We did a tour of Gaudi’s work, visited the perfume museum and enjoyed meals with the two little girls that I cared for.  All three of them suited up with my friend Katrin and I for an 11k race through the city, and enjoyed laughing with the many characters (clothed and otherwise) running/walking alongside us.  It was one of my favorite visits, and then they decided that they wanted to go clubbing- could it get any better?

Logistically speaking, keeping my dear mama awake past 10pm can be difficult, but all three of them were determined.  So I picked a small and classy enough club, near their vacation apartment, where I knew there would be some salsa dancing before the house music came on.  Mojito Club was famous for its easy going night life and plethora of mojito’s on hand, so the first thing my three rolemodel’s did when we arrived at the club was of course, grab a mojito.  This was the latest I have ever been up with my mom in recent memory (just before midnight) and the night was just starting.

Nina and I hit a few of the ‘line’ dances that were called out and laughed ourselves silly following along.  Rosie and Mom took their turn dancing and looked as if they had never left college (amen for good latina genes).  It was obvious, when dancing with my mom, to see where my dancing style came from and more funny than awkward when I told off a guy trying to dance with the two of us.  She’s my madre, for heaven sakes.

We called it a night at a very respectable hour and the ladies’ evening dancing in Barcelona had been a big success.  I had never gone out like that before in my life and might never see an evening quite like that again, but I would recommend it to any that get the opportunity.