The bus was not due to leave Girona until 2pm and so we had two hours to have lunch in an open-air cafe in the plaza near the river and to wander through the shops near the plaza and the old cobblestone streets of the town.
In the first museum, there is artwork from a few other artists apart from Dali - including Picasso, a contemporary and friend of Dali.
The entrance to the second museum was an opaque rotating metal door. When you got in, it was almost pitch black - the only lighting in the first room was the narrow lights highlighting the jewellery displays. Suzy was wearing a black outfit and so I kept on walking into her because I couldn't see her.
The bus didn't leave the town until 5:30pm and so we had plenty of time to look at the shops in the town. We had a beer and a sangria in an open-air cafe in the plaza and an ice cream in a different plaza. The owner of the ice cream shop was very friendly. He had seen my Australian cap when his staff were serving me and came out to chat to me in the plaza.
When the bus got back to Catalunya Plaza in Barcelona at 7:30pm, we rang Nicky to plan the evening. They were just about to get back to the apartment. We decided to eat in the apartment so we could watch the soccer final on TV. John had organised for the agent to come today to get the TV working again.
John and Nicky managed to find somewhere that sold hamburgers and club sandwiches nearby. They came with a mountain of French fries and wedges. The hamburgers were much better than you can normally get in Australia.
It was the first time I'd ever watched an entire soccer match (although I was sitting at the dining room table updating my photos and blog at the same time). Barcelona kicked three goals to Manchester United's one. Every time Barcelona scored, we heard the explosion of fireworks in the streets outside the apartment. There were more fireworks at the conclusion of the match.
We decided to go out to watch the celebrations in the centre of town. Suzy stayed behind to look after Amelia (who was already in bed). The police had closed all streets in the centre of Barcelona for the large crowds that were streaming in.
As we moved into the crown at the top of La Ramblas, I noticed a man crouching down playing with the knees of my cargo pants - not something that I'm used to. I'd put a wallet in the zipped pocket near my left near and the apartment keys and coins in another zipped pocket near my right knee. The wallet contained euro notes and my MasterCard credit card.
The crouching man was holding coins in an open palm and looking up at me. Next to him was another man crouching down who seemed to be with him. Other people on both sides had stopped to observe what was going on. I reached down to feel whether the key and coins were still in my pocket and then I felt my left knee to see if my wallet was still there. All seemed to be OK and so I was confused as to what they were doing and why.
The two men then disappeared into the crowd. Nicky and John had been right behind me and they couldn't work out why I had suddenly doubled over. Nicky thought I must have had a problems with my knees. John thought someone must have attacked me and he was looking for someone to punch in retaliation.
After I stood up, another man tapped me on the shoulder from behind and handed me a wallet. I opened it up to confirm that it was mine. It was the wallet that I keep in my back pocket. It is a bulky wallet but I don't put anything in it - no cash, no ID, no credit cards. Nothing. It is designed to be a decoy for pickpockets. Before we left on our holiday, we'd learnt that Barcelona is the top location in the world for pickpockets and La Ramblas is the worst place in Barcelona for these thefts.
The man who gave me the empty wallet had a look on his face that seemed to indicate he was sorry about what had happened to me. I thanked him and told him it was a decoy wallet but it was clear that he didn't understand anything I was saying. My guess is that he was probably confused that I wasn't at all upset to see that there was nothing in my wallet because I was smiling and happy that all my planning to counter pickpockets had payed off.
Later I thought I should have asked him where he found the wallet. He must have been watching because he knew it was my wallet. The thief might have undone the button on my back pocket and taken the wallet while the other two people were distracting me. Alternatively, perhaps the pair took my wallet from my back pocket, realised it was empty and so went looking in my other pockets.
We decided that we had seen enough of the celebrations and that it was time to head back to our apartment. After about 200m, we found that the police had blocked the street that we normally use to go from the plaza to our apartment. Once again there were black police vans waiting behind the barricades.
We approached one of the policemen on the barricade and explained that we are tourists. He asked us for the name of our hotel. When we told him that we were staying in an apartment, he asked us for the address. We couldn't remember and so he was far from convinced. It probably didn't help that John was wearing a Barcelona soccer jersey. We gave up and decided to walk a couple of blocks further to get around the barricades.
When I got back to the apartment, I double-checked all my pockets, wallets and the pouch I wear around my neck under my shirt (passports, drivers licence, cashcards, credit cards, etc). Everything was present and accounted for. It had been an eventful evening.
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