Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Barcelona and "The Hand of God"

Barcelona is a fabulous city, but prone to vice. A steady procession of excellent bars, restaurants, nightclubs, after-clubs and after-after-clubs tends to reduce one's hotel room to little more than a luggage-store and bathroom. Yet to reach many of these venues one has to brave back-streets cluttered with pleading prostitutes, and pick-pockets of the most amazing skill (the pick-pockets, I mean, not the prostitutes - I am unaware of whether or not the prostitutes possess any skill that one might qualify as amazing, or indeed any skill at all).

In the early hours of Saturday morning, one particular gentleman charmingly offered to demonstrate for me the footballing prowess of Diego Maradona, which involved using his knee to juggle the wallet out of my front jeans pocket into his waiting hand. Fortuitously, one of my quicker-thinking drinking companions reached out to remove the wallet from the 'Argentine' hand - a feat that perhaps Diego himself would have admired, and one that was celebrated for a good many hours afterwards.

The same feat was performed the following night on another drinking companion, though sadly no one was 'on-hand' to save the wallet.

You have been warned.
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