Estadi OlimpicLluis Companys

We squeezed our city weary bodies into a rush hour bus which took an eternity to cross the city to Poble Sec and spilled out onto the hill. 

Dry garrigue high above the city and only the sky above us.

It had been a long day walking the streets of Gothica, raiding vintage shops for overpriced, second hand Springsteen tour t-shirts (there were none which meant we ended up buying massively overpriced official merch at the stadium which we justified by telling ourseves that this was a one off). 

I'd slipped out of the adolescent-stuffed flat around 4 o'clock for a beer and came back to find Gab lying on the sofa, cradled in Tierna's lap with a headache.  I told him we'd waited 9 months for this concert and he HAD to be OK.  I said it was like being ill on your wedding day and he said no, missing the concert would be worse than missing one's wedding and he'd override the pain.

I stuffed a couple of paracetamol into him and he perked up.

Pakistanis were selling cans of beer on the paths to the stadium.  We bought as many as we could carry and got to the gates where signs informed us that we couldn't take drinks in so we drank the cans with the same gusto as Anthony Quayle et al in Ice Cold in Alex.

Up in the third tier we watched the stadium fill up and the light fade.  
And then there they were, the E Street Band and then there he was, Bruce and then time did that weird worm hole thing and contracted a three hour concert into thirty minutes and then Michelle Obama was on the stage with a tambourine, holding the rhythm of Glory Days, and in a glass box opposite us was her husband and Spielberg.

At one point I looked down our row and took this picture of my two boys in rapture.  At one point Springsteen gave his harmonica to a little girl on her dad's shoulders.  At one point Isaac and I both looked up and saw a seagull, under lit by the strobe lights.  He tugged my arm and said we'd just had a numinous experience.  Which was true, we had.

At one point I managed to film a guitar solo which was so breathtaking I watched it over and over the next day.  At one point Tierna managed to film Gabby sound-bombing that orgasmic moment towards the end of Human Touch (which I also watched over and over because it made me laugh).

At the end Bruce sent the band off and was left alone on the stage for I'll see you in my dreams.  The 60 000 of us who could sit down sat down, the stadium was alight with lighter flames and then it was over.

The whole evening, I realised, was numinous.