Books, Botellones and Other Stories
Who knew that drinking cheap booze putside could be so educational?
It’s the end of July, when the intense heat penetrates deep into the night until the next morning. The temperature can be described as hot or very hot. I’m sitting on the steps leading into the park that is home to Templo de Debod, an ancient Egyptian structure that has been transplanted to the Spanish capital. I can’t find my friends, a rag-tag bunch of English speakers that I had met in a summer camp in Cuenca. We’ve only been back a week but it’s time for a catch-up. Suddenly, Miguel appears, the tall and handsome Spanish monitor from the very same camp, a man I made laugh in the first week by saying ‘what happens in Cuenca, stays in Cuenca.’ He leads me to the gang, and we start drinking from beer bottles and cans, performing that universal ritual of outside drinking.
In Ireland, it typically entails shivering in a field, while Stateside, I envisage a solitary man imbibing from a glass bottle hidden in a brown paper bag. In Spain, it’s called botellón, an activity enjoyed by young Spanish students and poor English teachers, stemming all the way back to the 1980s, when poor workers in Huelva opted to avoid expensive bars by staying outside. It’s illegal, though most police officers turn a blind eye to it. On this particular night, however, officers of the law descend on the park, so we run, spilling alcohol over the dried grass.
I fought the law and other stories
Every time I was there, the law was with me. Driving past the Templo de Debod, back in 2012, with my policeman housemate Sergio and Ned, started talking about why so many people were drinking outside when it was illegal. He just shrugged his shoulders and explained that in some cities there are now designated botellón zones, where the authorities have admitted defeat in trying to control it, like something out of The Wire. In 2006, a macrobotellón was organized across many different Spanish cities in order to protest municipal controls on the activity. His explanation finished as we parked near Cine Golem, a cinema specialising in English-language movies. Take Shelter, a movie about impending doom, entertained us as Madrid’s nightlife carried on outside.
The first time I was in the park was with Sergio as well, on another blazing hot day, where he had sandwiches and got to know one another. It was certainly a nice environ, better than the social security meetings and banks they so kindly brought me to so I could become a legally recognizable person in Spain. I have a distinct memory trying to explain a few anecdotes to him, using gestures and facial expressions to fill the gaps of my then rather poor Spanish. Of all the things we discussed, however, we never touched upon why an Egyptian temple was in a Spanish park, through we did briefly go in and take a look around.
Parklife and other stories
The Egyptian government gifted the temple in 1968, a grandiose thank you after Spain had responded to an UNESCO appeal to save some sites of historical importance in Nubia. The USA, Netherlands and Italy received similar gifts. The Egyptian government wanted to save it from flooding caused by the construction of the Aswan Dam. As a 22,000-year-old building, dedicated to the god of creation Amun and Isis, it makes for an interesting and unique botellón site, particularly considering that it was modified by the Romans as well. By the 6th century, with the arrival of Christianity, the temple was sealed off and abandoned.
The park that houses the temple can be seen in Goya’s Third of May, where French troops shot Spanish rebels, and it was also the site of the Cuartel de la Montaña, a military barracks that became a flashpoint in 1936 during the Spanish Civil War, a scene that is described brilliantly in David Mathieson’s Frontline Madrid.
No indications of its Civil War past remain; it too has been caught up in the pact of forgetting. Today, the park is congregated by musicians jamming in the park and men selling drinks and snacks. Aside from the history, it is simply a nice place to be, particularly at sunset. A long water feature sits in front of the temple, catching the golden rays at opportune moments, while behind the temple are immense cityscapes, ranging from the Royal Palace and other important buildings to the hill below where tour groups walk past informal attendants helping drivers park their cars. At night, the stars seem extra bright over this corner of Madrid, a detail I enjoyed one summer’s night when I had a friend visiting from Ireland. Having finished our botellón, we lifted our heads and looked up, leaving the park for a moment.
More stories
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Templo de Debod illuminated at night, by Armando Oliveira @ Pexels.com
