Given the choice....
I'd not eat in Barcelona, full stop, the place is a shithouse. What really pissed us off was the fact that we'd allowed the concierge to send us to this particular place. Ordinarily, yes, that's leaving yourself open to be shafted, but he knew we weren't the usual hotel clientele, that we were only in there working, that we were "ordinary" people. After a long day at work, we didn't need to fuck around looking for somewhere, we just needed food (but not 38Euro club sandwiches) without fuss.

The problem is going with other people, I'm very sharp myself, have been round the world without (major) incident, but when with others I allow them to get me stitched up. Some of the crew on the last trip insisted on going to a titty bar in Barcelona, and I was obliged to go with them, even though I protested most strongly. Of course they got totally taken for a ride, as others have described in this QOTW, without getting anything. I paid to get in, had my free drink but resolutely refused to buy any hostess a drink, I was Mr Antisocial. I'd have rather gone to a brothel, we could have all got laid for a fraction of the price they paid for their glasses of Tizer, happy days, but my colleagues must have subconsciously WANTED to get stitched up, what other outcome would there be in a titty bar in any big city?

When abroad alone, I cannot let myself trust any waiter, for instance when they offer bread I always ask how much it costs. Often they look at me like I'm a miser, tell me it's included (of course!), and I feel foolish.
But I also know that when you are a long way from home, alone, if someone smiles and is pleasant to you, 2 times out of 3 it's because they are about to attempt to relieve you of your money. Sad, because that other time, they are just being a good human being, there are plenty of honest people about.

Back to Barcelona, I did have my revenge, got absolutely clattered somewhere off Las Ramblas, "partied" with 2 lovely Romanian girls and then staggered back to the hotel, so pissed that even the African hookers left me alone. (Yes, THAT pissed)
I then spewed from my top floor room balcony down into the piazza where a Vogue commercial was being shot in the morning.
"I love the smell of vomit in the morning, it smells like victory"
(Rsoles, Fri 14 May 2010, 2:52, 1 reply)

I must say
You sound like a right charmer.
(Draco Rattus ate all the pies on, Sat 15 May 2010, 8:12, closed)