This past weekend I went to Barcelona, Spain.

I expected to perhaps take a dip in the Mediterranean, eat some Spanish food (although, now that I think about it, I’m unsure of what that consists of), or see a cute duo standing in some town center dancing Flamenco.

What I got instead was a crazy weekend filled with topless beaches (I refrained from such un-American behavior), a fire run, and an American 80s night at a discoteca.

As my journalism professor would say, you really can’t make this stuff up.

Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was going to be in Barcelona at the start of La Mercè.

La Mercè is a Spanish festival that’s been officially recognized as a city holiday by Barcelona since 1891. Although it supposedly has religious origins, I honestly couldn’t tell what the festival celebrated until I got back to Milan and hit Google.

Crazy things happen during La Mercè. The epitome of the aforementioned sentence: I attended a correfoc (which translates to “fire-runs” in English). A correfoc consists of people dressed up like devils that parade down a street and hold up spinning torches of flying fireworks directly over people.

While this sounds like a form of torture to me, the Spanish see this as entertainment, and even bring their small children to partake in the festivities.

People willingly stand under these fireworks and get sprayed with sparks. People run into the parade, alongside the devils that send a constant stream of fiery pain into the air. They don’t mind, wearing mere sweatshirts for protection.

Afterwards, people show off with pride the holes the sparks made in their clothing.

I have a feeling I broke about 12 American safety codes while I was in Barcelona, this being one of them. I can’t ever see anyone in their right mind in America participating in such dangerous behavior. And I don’t see that as a bad thing.

Even activities that would be considered low-key (like swimming) in America were different in Barcelona.

I knew that there were topless beaches in Spain, but I didn’t know just how casual the attitude would be there. While I felt uncomfortable even witnessing so many sets of something-we-don’t-let-the-sun-see-in-America, other people (including entire families with little children) walked past the topless women as if they were wearing a one-piece bathing suit.

Like in Italy, I was surprised at how popular American culture in Barcelona was.

In addition to eating McDonalds, Burger King, Starbucks, and Dunkin’ Donuts (it was my civic duty to compare tastes to back home), I had the pleasure of attending an 80s themed disco night at a local discoteca. I expected to only hear music in Spanish, but the entire night consisted of American songs. I felt like I was in downtown Austin, especially because everyone around my group was singing along as if they themselves were American.

And so, for the price of three tanks of gas, and in less than the time it takes me to get from Austin to my hometown, I ventured two countries over and spent my first weekend abroad in crazy, fantastic Barcelona.

Are y’all mindblown by that? Because I still am… I flew over two countries in an HOUR. Like really, what!?

That’s Europe for ya.