Barcelona Part Two

When we left off last time, me and my bestest gal pal were sun-frazzled digging up our wallets in the sand, this adequately sets the tone for what was about to follow...

Later that day we decided to head to da club, and in the queue for da club we met some men from Switzerland.

We were drinking in the queue, as you do. But when we got to the front of the queue we were refused entry, apparently drinking in the queue is not the done thing in Barcelona.

Lamenting this refusal, we decided that the beach was the place to be; this fabled beach of vibrant nightlife, music, bars, fairy-lights, DJs till dawn.

But that is just what the beach was: a fable. Nothing really goes on at the beach.

Discovering this, the Swiss men decided we should all go skinny dipping. They were unswervable.

We decided that the easiest course of action was to pacify them, so we acquiesced and under the understanding that they must go in first and we would follow, they stripped and ran into the waters. As soon as a safe distance was reached, we legged it.

****

Later that night we met some guys from our local area and all headed to the beach to 'sup some beers in the sand.

All was going well, until, upon arrival at the beach, we were confronted by some angry semi-clothed Swiss men adamantly demanding that we return their wallets, or, at the very least their trousers...

It looked bad. We looked bad. But we hadn't stolen anything, although our swift exit upon their entry to the sea, of course looked suspicious...

We wormed our way out of it, although I'm sure the Swiss men didn't believe we hadn't done it, and we managed to 'sup our beers in peace.

This story perhaps doesn't paint us incredibly favourably, but maybe now, dear readers, you will understand why we had buried our own wallets in the first place …