Barcelona y Madrid

With lots of places visited and tons of amazing things happened, it would need a dedicated, separated medium to tell all about my Iberian Peninsula journey. Yea, it's still about that. Sorry not sorry, but I just can't get over it yet.

But this one is different.

This needs a special place in my blog.

Because this is what made my Spanish trip, Spanish.

Football.

Yes. Yes. YES!!!

Would I not talk about it?? I'm a lunatic if I don't. This is Spain, for the love of God, the place where football runs in everyone's blood. The site where stars were born, nurtured, and sky-rocketed to the highest rank of football empire. And ultimately, the home of the world's two biggest football giants!

Even if I'm the biggest arch-nemesis of both clubs, I'd still seek for their presence anyway. Spot the people wearing their jerseys, buy any unnecessary tidbits, or come to their official stores—I definitely would! But hey, it's not Vicky Amin if he didn't do it all out. And so, he was not just spotting the people wearing their jerseys, buying any unnecessary tidbits, or coming to their official stores.

He paid pilgrimage to the stadiums.

Freaking both of them.

I didn't even think twice. The second I arrived in Barcelona, letting all the city's atmosphere came rushing inside of me, I bought the tour already.

I just, cannot NOT to. This is Barcelona we're talking about. Just listening to the name reminded me of all the maroon-blue-covered players with their first-class La Liga vibe. Some people even know the football club more than the city itself so... I'd be damned if I leave the city not visiting

Camp Nou.

So it was December 26th, 2018. I left to the stadium so early, because I know I'd need more than 3 hours for this tour. It was cold, but I didn't care. I had to walk a bit from the nearest train stop, but I didn't fvucking care. Because even from the front gate, passing under the majestic signage of the football team, and entering the outer precinct of the stadium which was still like 500m away, I felt like all the struggle was paid off already. It was also still empty. Because opening hours was not yet there. So I had to wait, in cold crisp air, alone, while others were in either couples or groups. But still I didn't care, and just breathed the air as much as I could because hey, that was the air that Lionel Messi usually breathed in!

When finally visitors were allowed to enter the front building, walked through the aerial tunnel connecting the front hall and the main stadium, the air of wonderment came rushing in. Museums of the club's history was the first to welcome me, with tons of amazing stories I never knew much from Barcelona FC before, about how it all began from the grassroot, from commonfolk, and how it became a vessel for the proletariats to shout their voice. Amazing stories which really made me subconsciously in love with the club. Then came the trophies. The wall of fame, the jerseys from time to time, all those elements that made Barcelona FC like it is today. Until finally, of course, came what everyone there came there for.

Now I know that THAT motto has a deep meaning.

The Pitch. The Heart of Camp Nou.

I swear all the hair in my body stood up like spectators celebrating a goal in the stadium, while I walked out of that outer museum edge, through the opening double door into the bright winter light, when wind blew and the colors of blue and maroon filled my eyes. I'm no fan of Barcelona FC but I'm a human. With emotions. And appreciation of something colossal. So I have to claim that, it was one of the most amazing experience I ever felt in my entire life.

It took me more time in this place than the museum, to just stay there by the spectators seats, just sit, watch the greenery blend well with the club's colors above it, enjoy the magnificent historical view with some strangers that were also blown away. I made some small talks with other visitors, shared our common amazement towards the whole stadium, took photos of others and asked others to take photos of me, and it all just add up to the whole package.

I walked out of the stadium thinking that I would not ever felt the same shit towards a football stadium like this, ever again. Because this was Camp Nou, for God's sake, home of the world's biggest football club. Of course the feeling is grand, and no other would ever beat that.

But of course I was wrong.

For whenever we talk about Barcelona FC, we cannot forget the fact that it has its eternal rival that will shadow their every moves whenever they go. And that includes a trip to the stadium.

Yes. Real Madrid FC.

And its home which I also visited,

Santiago Bernabeu.

December 31st, 2018. With a not-so-high expectation, and this motive of "alright I'm in Madrid let's get this over with and visit the HQ of the club because if I don't I'm an idiot" I found my way to the stadium. It was located right in the heart of the city, not somewhat near the outskirt like Camp Nou. The path towards the building was dodgy, because visitors had to climb some sets of outside stairs, all concrete and grey-like, wasn't at all grandeur like its Barcelona counterpart. Got welcomed like this, in such non-dramatic fashion, really, I underestimated it at first. Until I reached the end of the stairs, and got to see the pitch from above.

It was quiet unexpected. I was hoping to arrive at some appetizer part of the stadium, like museums or what not, but here I was, on top of Santiago Bernabeu, with the whole view of the stadium in front of my very own eyes. I must say that I loved this surprise, and I actually spent so much time here in just the very first part of the tour. After this, the route suggested us to explore the top part of the stadium, including its commentators' box, VIP visitors seats, and cameramen corners.

After that, we went down the stairs again to enter the museum. And here, I had my second surprise. No, none of the stars of Real Madrid was there. And no, none of the inside of the museum was outstanding. The collections was more or less similar to Camp Nou. It was how they showcased it though, that took me by surprise. Because it showed how Real Madrid sits on a different level. It showed class, it boosted  pride and sophistication, it screamed "Royal" as their name suggest. Barcelona might be a club that's owned by people, but Real Madrid appears as if the club OWNS people. I always take granted on how people boasted Real Madrid as the richest club in the entire globe until today, when I actually felt how expensive they are as an entity, and how proud they are of that. And the glorious anthem of "Hala Madrid" repeatedly playing throughout the galleries oh God, I swear I never got goosebumps that real!

Museum sections slowly faded, replaced by the actual stadium facilities. Baths, showers, massage rooms, locker rooms with the players' actual stuff hanging around their spots, and, finally, the tunnel. The actual tunnel where them players always run to battlefield. The actual tunnel that led us, players and visitors, to the main section of Santiago Bernabeu.

Losing words.

And my underestimation simply just gone.

Crazy. Crazy how I started the tour with "meh" yet ended it with "fuck". Again, I'm not a fan of this club, yet I felt like one just by visiting its home, and not even seeing them in action nor at least meeting one of the players. I felt so bad for underestimating the whole experience even before it started.

So was it better than Barcelona's Camp Nou?

The answer is, I can't tell.

Barcelona and Real Madrid, along with their headquarters, sit on a different level. Both have prides so high I'm sure real fans wouldn't ever want to even think of getting near the rival's basecamp. But those prides are totally different. One is bound by common struggle, the other is bound by common interest.

Fortunately, I'm neither one of their fans.

Fortunately.

Because having this privilege,

I got the chance, and the guts, to see both their homes.

I got the chance to role play and imagine if I was their fan.

I got the chance to explore them in totally neutral way,

Without having the pressure to answer the question of

"Barcelona or Madrid?"