SEXY AND WE KNOW IT
Barcelona Circuit Festival.
Without question, Barcelona Circuit Festival is the biggest event of the gay calendar year. Every sweltering summer this ten-day celebration arrives in the rambunctious Spanish city famous for its wieldy Ramblas boulevard, Gaudi architecture and for leisurely stretching along the sands of the Mediterranean. Each August, Barcelona bewitches, bothers and bewilders circuit queens, boys, men and their admirers from all corners of the globe with nearly two weeks of parties, pool parties and – surprise! – more parties! It is exhilarating and exhausting and you have been warned. Pacing is of the essence.
The Waterpark party is the must-see-and-be-seen-at of the early scheduled events. As it’s a half hour from the centre of town, either catch the bus (five euros return) or share a cab (around 40 euros). Illa Fantasia is normally full of screaming children sloshing and sliding down waterslides, but for one day a year it is full of screaming queens preening and strutting around the various pools as big name DJs supply the beats beneath the relentless Spanish sun. Don’t forget the sunscreen. The pool party opens at
JUST HOW RELENTLESSLY MIND-BLOWING IS PLANET EARTH’S PREMIERE GAY PARTY WEEK? AFTER GIVING IT HIS ALL TO FIND OUT, MARC ANDREWS IS STILL IN RECOVERY BUT MANAGED TO FILE THIS REPORT… PHOTOGRAPHY MARC BERNDSEN.
10am and pumps on long into the night. If you want to get a locker to store your belongings, arrive before midday.
Security, be warned, has tightened significantly. This year there was a “no G” policy with burly security guards making a point to grab under everyone’s crotch to see if they could find any hidden GHB bottles. My partner had to endure a finger in his ass until security was satisfied he wasn’t stashing anything up his butt.
While drug use should not be encouraged, especially in blazing heat, party organisers need to be more realistic. Gay men insist on their party treats and will find a way to smuggle them in, or be forced to ingest them all at once before entering a party. This can lead to dangerous overdose situations. It’s an issue that all large party events around the world also have to face when stringent police tactics are employed at party entrances. Another note to BCF organisers – provide free water stations instead of sending people to queue for hours at the toilets. Party tickets aren’t cheap and not only would it be a wise option for punters, but it may even help “stop, revive, survive” a few lives. At least at the Waterpark the taps were not turned to hot water as with so many other clubs in Europe.
The Waterpark party itself is, in a word, monumental. As someone who has experienced a lot of gay dance parties, outdoor events and poolside discos, the Barcelona event puts everything else in the shade. From 10am until 10pm it is awash with thousands upon thousands of the most beautiful men on Earth squeezed into tiny, tight swimwear and looking for a good time. There are various slides and rides, but that’s not why everyone is here. The pools transform into giant dance floors with the main one hosting a humongous stage where dancers, performers, lights and, later in the evening, fireworks all converge to make this absolutely, fabulously unmissable.
Of course, there are other pool parties (not to mention lots of other big parties and smaller private parties) during the Barcelona Circuit Festival but nothing, truly nothing, matches the Waterpark experience. Never have you seen so many drop-dead gorgeous men, all >>
>> presumably gay, in one place at one time. The roaming male beauties make it seem like one giant porn movie set, except everyone still has their speedos on. That is, at least until nightfall.
As the day progresses the music gets sexier and the crowd gets noticeably sluttier, with various areas of the park turning into a virtual fuckfest. A party boy from Melbourne informed me gleefully the next day that he was gangbanged by at least ten people in the middle of the dance floor to a remix of Rihanna’s Diamonds. Now there’s a memory to cherish.
While organisation of the Waterpark party is rather clunky (there’s an obvious reason Spain is suffering serious economic woes), if you put aside queuing in the heat, the last century style of ticketing, no free water, and the fact there’s barely any shade anywhere, the Waterpark party is truly the gay party to end all gay parties.
During Circuit week, it’s as if the gays have taken over this Spanish city and wearing a tight tank top is not just an option, but de rigueur. The beaches are bulging with Godlike men with insatiable appetites for protein shakes, sex and sometimes both at the same time. Restaurants and cafés proudly unfurl rainbow flags and mobile apps like Scruff and Grindr do brisk business on overtime.
The whole week cascades along from one big name party brand to the next: Matinee, SuperMarXté, WE and, finally, La Leche. If you are still standing by the end, your eyeballs will generally resemble olives.
As previously noted, organisation has never been Spain’s strong suit, and a last minute venue change for La Leche moved the closing party from its usual spot at the beach in Sitges (the seaside town next to Barcelona) to an industrial estate on the outskirts of the city. While the venue itself more or less resembled a cool, fabulous dance space, the ever-present smell of sewage from somewhere nearby kept wafting across the dance floor. The naked guy with the big dong writhing in a huge martini glass full of milk was diverting, but I couldn’t help but come to the sad, sorry conclusion that there are just not enough drugs in the world to overcome the stench of poo.
Other venues had issues with air conditioning (Megawoof, in particular), and unfortunately the overselling of tickets seemed to be an accepted practice. That said, security teams at the venues did a superlative job. As soon as they spotted anyone looking a bit wonky around the edges they would gently whisk them off into medical rooms tucked away in a basement. At one stage, one of our group was laid down there to recover. He passed out for half an hour and when he woke up the hot guy who had been lying down next to him was sucking his cock… with the medics finding it too amusing to stop. Now that’s Spain and that’s Circuit!
Having now fully experienced Barcelona Circuit Festival I can tell you that it is the sexiest, most extraordinary, most exhausting week you will ever (hopefully) live through. It seems that nearly everyone I knew who attended spent the next weeks holed up in bed nursing a chest infection – the Barcelona Bronchitis, they called it.
As for next year’s Circuit, I think I’ll just be happy to sit at home in bed with a nice cup of hot chocolate reading posts from friends on social media and thinking how pleased I am for them – before switching off the light for a good night’s rest. That’s something I certainly never managed during Circuit!
more: Circuitfestival.net
DNA would like to thank Barcelona Circuit Festival and the Hotel Hesperia Presidente, Barcelona for their generous assistance in compiling this feature.