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Dilip Kuner
Friday, 9 January 2026, 11:13
There's a peculiar type of magic to winning the lottery, one that grabs hold of you and never really lets go. For me, that magic came 30 years ago, when I stumbled upon a winning ticket for the El Gordo lottery. I found the forgotten ticket in a dusty old book, being used as a page marker of all things. It was the last day to claim the prize - a whopping 10,000 pesetas (60 euros), and I, a 29-year old caught up in the typical financial scrabble of life, couldn't believe my luck.
It may not seem much, but at the time I only earned 1,000 pesetas a day, so that ticket was really quite valuable.
That single win, which bought my partner and me a memorable dinner for two at the extremely exclusive (read expensive) and now long defunct Hacienda restaurant in Las Chapas (Marbella), set a hook in me that I've never been able to shake.
Since that day, I've bought tickets for both El Niño and El Gordo year after year, chasing the dream, but never finding another glimmer of fortune.
There's something about the odds of these lotteries that draw you in, something that makes you believe the next ticket will finally be the one. Despite both El Niño and El Gordo offering massive prizes, with many different winners, I've never managed to recreate the thrill of that early win.
The prize pots are immense - El Gordo often surpassing 2 billion euros, with smaller prizes spread across hundreds of thousands of tickets. Yet, each year, despite buying in with renewed hope, I find my name missing from the winner's list, my ticket another hopeful but discarded scrap of paper. I have not even won my money back once, and have long ago spent far more than the 10,000 peseta prize I cashed in.
Why do I keep playing? It's not just about money. I've been hooked on the possibility, the joy of imagining what it would feel like to hit the jackpot once again (well, OK even 10,000 pesetas would be nice!. Maybe it's the nostalgia of that one night of celebration, a small win that felt like everything. Maybe it's the belief that lightning can strike twice, or perhaps it's the yearning for an escape that so many of us feel, caught in the routine of daily life - an intrinsic part of life in Spain.
What's interesting, however, is that I'm not alone in this endless chase. Both lotteries have built a culture of hope in Spain, drawing millions into their orbit each December. El Gordo, with its long history, and El Niño, a slightly smaller but equally enticing affair, offer more than just money - they offer a brief glimpse into a life of freedom, or at least a much-needed break from the mundane.
Despite my repeated failures, I can't help but hope that one day I'll find another '10,000-peseta' ticket hiding in a book somewhere, giving me a taste of the magic once more. Until then, I'll keep buying my tickets, because who knows, maybe lightning will strike again.