Dancing It Out in Barcelona (September 19, 2025)
So the thing about Barcelona (and Madrid for that matter) is that true dancing culture in Spain begins at midnight and goes until 6am. Now that works for Violet who loves to pretend she’s a vampire — staying up all hours of the night and sleeping most of the day. But for me, I’m an early bird and I usually am up before these dancers go to bed. Hmmm.
No matter. I checked in with my friend, Jen Nash, and confirmed that one of the best spots for dancers of all ages (18+ to 52 year olds like me) was a place formerly know as Pacha.
Violet and I wait in a growing line at midnight to dance in Barcelona
When we rolled up to this spot, I remembered it from a few years back. I had joined a CEO seminar in Barcelona which I believe is now called the “World Business Forum” in 2015 (wow, that’s 10 years ago, so longer than the “few years” I had recalled). They had a private event here and I remembered it as soon as we saw it from the outside.
While the entrance ticket was only $15 Euros each, we had the option of spending $3,500 for a private booth next to the DJ or $350 Euros for bottle service. Apparently, this is how the club has not only survived, but thrived this past decade. No matter, Violet and I were just here to dance and dance we did.
Perfect. That gives you a good sense of the vibe. Artistic light show and music.
We stayed until 2am and by that time, the club was packed like a New York City Subway during rush hour — or perhaps a Tokyo train where they have officials deliberately “moving” you around to more densely pack the space. As 2am rolled on, it became nearly impossible to “dance” and we more bobbed together like waves in the ocean.
And no wonder. It was Barcelona on a Friday night. The DJs were playing incredibly popular music mixed with consistent latin danceable beats. In other words, you knew the music, but it was modified every so slightly as to keep to a similar and familiar latin thump … consistently from song to song. Easy to dance to and no one would be thrown off with any complicated rhythms.
Perhaps most astonishingly, the lines outside GREW in the two hours we were dancing. Yes, the inside was packed, but the outside was full of dancers ready to party in lines that rivaled Taylor Swift concerts. Seriously, you could see these lines stretch the length of the beach boardwalk. Apparently THAT is why people pay the $350 Euros for bottle service — not such much for the alcohol or good seat, but to guarantee you can get in at 2am when the club is hottest and the lines are longest. It all makes sense now.
As we left the club, we decided to walk back and enjoy the Barcelona night life even further. It’s impressive to see a city so alive at 2am. I know New York City is like this (as both Violet and I have experienced this), but to see it here was something else. So many people living their lives late into the evening hours.
It was magical and fun. We enjoyed seeing the giant ferris wheel still turning with no signs of slowing down in the middle of the night. We also saw the police getting ready for the big outdoor swim happening in a few hours at around 7am for the “early riser” crowd (normally me) getting out and exercising together.
We have the rest of the weekend to figure out what we still haven’t done in Barcelona and then we’re on to visit my cousin Brent McLean in Geneva, Switzerland on Monday.
