So you had a bad day...

I told you the story about the man who was in Hiroshima when it got bombed. Then, a few days later, he drove to Nagasaki to be with his family, which in turn, got bombed on the day he arrived. If you survive two atomic bombs, then you can say you've got the worst (or best?) luck in the world.

Santander can't exactly top that. But it comes relatively close. Close enough for me to rethink my "worst day ever" that involved tripping on my computer cable and soaring into my closet thus breaking the clothes rack and getting in a fight with my teacher about a lack of homework.

Get this: in the last part of the 1800's, there was a cargo ship docked in the port of Santander. Back then, apparently, they didn't understand dynamite. And felt it was a good idea to break cargo regulations and load the ship up with 500 cases of dynamite, instead of the maximum 20. Don't push the limit or anything, oh genius ones. Something about Santanderians makes them very inclined towards lighting things on fire, because as hundreds of spectators gathered, the ship began to burn. It probably seemed like a nice way to spend your evening, watching a massive ship slowly smolder and sink. Someone in that crowd must have really irritated the Big Man in the Clouds, because what happens next is just sheer stupidity and fate.

A small boat called the Juliet (ironic?) was sent out to blast bullets into the water around the ship. I am not entirely sure what they thought that would do; perhaps it was to create holes in the boat to make it sink faster? At the same time, those still on board were using sledge hammers to smash out the metal shafts in the side of the boat. The thing about dynamite is that it doesn't explode by being light on fire. It explodes when there is a loud vibrating noise. Don't ask me to explain that because that's just what my British culture teacher told me, and he is British so just go with it. The combination of the vibrations from the bullets smashing into the boat and the metal clashing of the unlucky sailors resulted in the explosion of 500 units of dynamite. The Juliet, to put it bluntly, was never found. Although they did find a piece of the anchor of the cargo ship on the other side of the bay. And some pieces of bodies and other interesting things. The Cathedral and the entire bay area was obviously destroyed, and those eager boat watchers were, well, smited. As I said, God wasn't smiling down that day.

Jump a few years ahead: in 1941, the entire city center burned down. It was one of those summer nights when the southern wind was blowing really dry and warm air through Santander, the type of wind that brings out the sangria, the salsa dancing, and the summer loving to the terraces at night. Ohhh la la, right? Not so much. Because some really brilliant person decided to let their house catch on fire. Which, thanks to the southern wind which everyone was out enjoying, meant that the small house fire turned into the homelessness of thousands of people and the destruction of the city. Way to go, buddy. Way. To. Go. I bet his neighbors were wondering what on earth he was doing in his house lighting things on fire when he should have been out on his terrace drinking like everyone else. What an epic fail.

The center has been rebuilt now, and everyone is pretty much done mourning their lost houses and friends and family. In the place of their twice replaced houses and un-replaced families, they have bitterness towards neighbors (and I just thought it was because I am American and overly-smiley. Nope. I might be the next one to burn the city down for all they know.) You can't exactly blame them for being really protective of their houses when hooligans keep coming along and blowing them up. And their kids? Yeah, I'd probably be a little overly protective as well.