Tricky, tricky (Day 1, part 4)

That night, Emma and I went out to eat some yummy paella. After our strenuous day we thought we'd go out for just one drink at the oldest bar in Barcelona. When we got there the place was packed with tourists.
Now I have to take a time out here to explain that since our arrival in Spain Emma and I have been speaking in Spanish whenever we are in public. Which is pretty hilarious since my Spanish is very disjointed and elementary, all the real Spaniards who may have overheard our converstions probably thought we were loca. But it helped us keep a low turista profile.
Emma and I sit down at a table and gossip in Spanish about the other tourists in the bar. The guy sitting next to us asks her for a light and they keep on talking in Spanish. Meanwhile a Bristish guy asks me what street we are on,
"Que?" I reply innocently
"Oh, damn, er, the street? Outside?"
"La calle?"
"Yeah, la calle, whats the name?"
I tell him and he thanks me then looks at me curiously and says suspiciously, "you're not Spanish." I grin at him uncomprehendingly.
Next thing I know I'm locked into my ruse as one of the other Brits at the table starts trying to talk to me in broken Spanish. When Emma turns back around I have to quickly let her in so she doesn't blow my cover. Emma looks at me in shock but doesn't miss a beat and next thing we know the Brits have broken out the phrase book to keep the conversation going.
The people who Emma first started talking to tell us they're going dancing at a club and invite us along. Emma and I never say no to dancing. Off we went to a huge club where we proceeded to dance our asses off to great music. We finally tumble into bed at 5:30am. End of Day 1 in Barcelona.