I have bad news. I have a friend who lives in Barcelona, directly under the flight path of planes heading for Valencia.
Anyway, he was sitting on his rooftop terrace when a Valencia-bound plane flew overhead at surprisingly high altitude and from it fell a lump of frozen urine.
It smelt very stringly of Gouda cheese, tasted a little of advocaat and had a little cocktail stick buried in it on which was written, "Hi, my name's Wesley Sneijder."
So he was obviously on his way to sign for Valencia (or Levante).