Our daughter Courtney had warned us about pickpockets earlier that night at dinner. I held my bag close to my body. My husband Danny kept our euros in a money belt. I never feared for my safety anywhere in Barcelona, but pickpocketing was rampant. Courtney told us not to help anyone from the ground since they create scenes to distract you while fishing for valuables in your bag. Many locals wore backpacks in front of them. One of her friends found a little girl’s hand in his front pocket. He swatted her away. Her father just demurely said, “Sorry.” Other times they would approach with clipboards asking random questions. As the unsuspecting target signed their name, they would rifle through their bag underneath. If a victim sat at a table with their small purse atop, they would set the board on the bag and snatch both before they knew they’d been hit. She said to hold our bags when in the subway since they use the crowds to hide their prowling.
The girls, promoting a night club on the beach, enticed their new friend to come for free admission. He was reluctant, so I joined in the conversation. They wanted to hire me! Later they confided that there really was a cover charge. Ah yes. The scamming begins. But they were such nice girls!
We discovered the Placa Reial filled with hungry people out enjoying the energy of crowds while searching for a late dinner.We joined the hunt for a dessert in the square.
A feast for the eyes, the soul, and the tummy, restaurants lined the plaza.
A cue formed for this popular restaurant.
Many enjoyed conversing with friends and family with nary a cell phone in sight.
Bicycles and motorbikes are the preferred mode of transportation in the maze-like downtown.
Danny made some new friends and promised to visit their popular restaurant tomorrow night.
I found some willing subjects taking a quick break during the rush.
“Wait! Where does this tunnel lead us?” I pulled Danny out of the Plaza Reial to explore again.
Back out on La Rambla where my tummy rumbled as we rambled. Tee hee!
Street performers exhibited their gymnastic prowess.
The extraordinary lighting on some of the buildings had me snapping away.
The Rita Blue Restaurant, tucked into another a much smaller plaza, the Placa Sant, had exactly what I’d been looking for.
I found my just desserts! No pickpockets here. Then home again to our rented flat for a much-needed night’s sleep after staying awake for nearly 36 hours. It was 2:00 AM! We had adjusted to Barcelona time.
Where is your favorite dessert restaurant?
All photos taken by Susie Lindau with a Sony Nex 3nl DSLR