Today started off very uneventfully. I got up, watered the plants on the terrace, responded to emails and booked flights for all my summer travels. Around 1:30 I finally ventured out for some shopping and then met Jill for a coffee near Placa Catalunya, which is currently overrun with tourists.
The table next to us was occupied by two older German couples who were decked out in the requisite tourist uniforms, complete with cameras dangling around necks. I was chatting away with Jill, absent-mindedly looking over her shoulder, when I saw another touristy looking guy hovering around. I thought nothing of it until I saw him reaching under the chair of one of the German ladies. He hooked his finger over the edge of her purse (never EVER leave your purse, wallet, phone, anything out of your sight for one second in Barcelona) and started to pull it slowly toward him, and my next thought was, That's weird - I don't think he knows them.
Then, before I really realized what I was doing, I was yelling "HEY HEY HEY HEY!" Jill turned and looked behind her and said, "What are you doing?!" He froze, stood up, and stepped back, leaving the purse where it was. A moment later he had the nerve to look at me and say, "Que?" and I answered in Spanish, "I saw everything, what do you mean?" Then he and the kid he was with sauntered off in search of their next victim. I then realized I had made quite a scene and looked around to find everyone on the terrace staring and pulling their belongings a little closer. Having been saved in the same way two years ago myself from a near robbery by a good samaritan, I was glad to finally be able to pass on the karma.
After that, the rest of the afternoon was pretty low-key. I said goodbye to Jill, who heads off for her internship tomorrow, went home, and watched the Brazil/Ghana match. Then Paul cooked a paella (having excellent cooks as roommates is a key to good living) and it was time to watch France v. Spain. Hoping for a good night's sleep tonight, I opted to cheer for France. I always cheer for the underdog, and tonight was no exception. Spain has cruised through the World Cup so far, and France has barely squeaked by. More importantly though, I just wanted to see a good match. I've been pretty disappointed by the last few... verrrrry BOOOORING. Well, France shockingly delivered, and now Barcelona is silent (no honking horns, no firecrackers, no screaming hooligans) and I can get my beauty rest.
The agenda for tomorrow? More shopping, a bit of climbing in Montjuic, saving a few damsels in distress, and oh, I don't know, some dinner.