A good story keeps the tension until the end, even reserving one last twist. The usual suspects, The two faces of the truth or Thelma and Louise soon come to mind by boat. These lines, fortunately for the seventh art that we like so much and miss so much –Avatar, wait for us–, do not boast of having a good script. The story will end in the Villaggio, a most seedy shopping center. But first, the body asks to stop in Lusail, a place that is impossible to forget.
Qatar built (or remodeled) up to eight stadiums to host the World Cup. Visiting all of them was always an illusion given the particularities of the tournament. Professional obligations drew from the beginning a daily appointment with football and seven of them were already conquered in the first phase. Things were looking good. It was almost a success. Only Lusail was lazy. The present time distanced us from him. But, as the venue for the first semifinal and the final, patience was on our side and, finally, attending the Argentina-Croatia game –Messi’s arm is strong– allowed us to complete the circle almost on the horn, in the last week of tournament Good.
Arriving at the stadium is already a declaration of intent. Always go at night, like Las Vegas. Lusail is a mix of the gaming capital of the world and Bangkok, with skyscrapers and lights that stop time. Two almost twin towers bless the arrival of the fans illuminated with the flags of the two teams. It’s formidable. Even before the stadium, Lusail boulevard, inspired by the Champs Elysées (hold your thoughts), looms large, lined with shops and restaurants, with four enormous towers in the background that could be the setting for any Christopher Nolan science fiction movie. And finally, the Lusail stadium, a bathtub (ship?) of gold raised by a base that crowds people around it taking photos.
Fade to black. The scene now takes place around the Khalifa, an apparently much less lavish setting than Lusail until the street is crossed and one ventures through the Villaggio galleries, an almost vital experience in terms of disbelief. In this shopping center we will mix Las Vegas again, although in this case with Venice. The Italianized name is a clue, but what one witnesses inside, among the shops, has just cleared up any doubts.
A few meters from the entrance, in the first large square, a good number of people crowd. None of them is wearing a soccer jersey, which is curious given the massive presence of fans throughout the venue. But when you get closer and see what pretends to be a Venetian canal in the middle of a commercial corridor, you understand everything. Or rather, he doesn’t understand anything. The queue, full of couples – don’t worry, it would never occur to us – is to get on a gondola and take a walk… yes, inside the shopping center. Nothing so surreal is remembered since La escopeta nacional. A sky as blue as false, roller coasters or laser tags complete the tour. Luckily this is over. We need to go to El Corte Inglés.
