Barcelona baloney – Spain needs to call a halt to these Sangria Soakers

Here at Cruise Passenger, we know that cities like Barcelona, in heavy pedestrian areas like Las Ramblas, are unhappy with tourists. But we also know that tourism spreads the wealth. It’s a conundrum: the citizens want the money but not the inconvenience.

Tourists are people like you and me, spending their hard-earned money on a city trip. Hosting them is a privilege.

Spain, a land of tapas, flamenco, and fiery temperament, this week found a new way to show its displeasure at the number of people on the streets of Barcelona. Angry citizens with luminous water pistols sprayed diners on the streets, using Sangria Super Soakers as a sign of their displeasure.

I know. You’re tempted to smile. But it’s no joke.

Imagine: you’re perched at a charming little cafe on Las Ramblas, nursing a well-deserved cerveza after a morning spent attempting to decipher Gaudí’s architectural fever dream, the Sagrada Familia.

Suddenly, a band of merry men and women, not unlike a particularly disgruntled cast of Zorro extras, descends upon you, wielding the ultimate weapon of childhood ignominy – the dreaded super soaker! Grown adults, armed with plastic phalluses of questionable hygiene, drenching unsuspecting tourists in the name of… well, who even knows anymore?

Barcelona, like many a beautiful city, is struggling with the impact of mass tourism. Rents skyrocket, locals get priced out of their neighbourhoods like Las Ramblas, and everywhere you look there’s another selfie stick pointed at a pigeon. It’s enough to make even the most patient Spaniard reach for the nearest water pistol.

But here’s the thing – tourists aren’t the enemy. They’re the lifeblood of these economies, the folks keeping the paella pans hot and the flamenco dancers twirling. They’ve forked out good money to experience the magic of Spain, not to be on the receiving end of a particularly soggy, rude protest.

Cruise passengers are a particular target – even though they are only a part of Spain’s tourism population. They are singled out frequently for attack, but in Barcelona, only one in three tourists come from cruise ships.

But Europe’s great beauty and history is in serous danger of being overshadowed by the ugly face of unwelcome NIMBYS. I remember standing on a street in Amsterdam in front of a queue of tourists from Asia and America lured to this street by reviews of an Insta-worthy fish and chip restaurant. They were young couples out to spend their cash and enjoy their holiday – yet they were assailed on all sides by rude taunts and notices telling them not to stand here, not to sit there. It was just plain rude.

This isn’t the first time sunshine and hospitality have curdled into something less appealing. Remember the time gondoliers in Venice went on strike because tourists… well, kept flagging down their boats. Or how about the infamous case of the disgruntled Mykonos donkeys who, frankly, had had enough of hauling overweight tourists up and down hills? Even the donkeys have their breaking point, and who are we to judge?

But there’s a fine line between expressing frustration and making your guests feel like unwelcome interlopers. Tourists are, by definition, guests. They’ve come to your country, eager to experience your culture, and your food. They deserve respect.

Thankfully, there is no sign this is spreading to Australia. Imagine if you rocked up to the Opera House, eager for a spot of Turandot, only to be met by staff brandishing super soakers filled with lukewarm Aussie beer. Not exactly the picture-perfect postcard moment, is it?

Tourists aren’t completely blameless. There’s a right and a wrong way to travel. Be respectful of the locals, and learn a few basic phrases in the native tongue (even if it’s just “Can I have another sangria, please?”).

But ultimately, the onus is on the hosts to make their guests feel welcome. A bit of education about local customs goes a long way, and hey, maybe even a few pamphlets on responsible tourism wouldn’t hurt.

So, to the disgruntled Catalans with their super soakers, we say this: there are better ways to channel your frustration. Organize workshops on responsible tourism, educate visitors on local etiquette – even start a petition. But for the love of flamenco, ditch the water pistols.

Let’s keep the sangria flowing and the super soakers firmly on the shelves. After all, a happy tourist makes for a happy economy, and who wouldn’t want a slice of that particular sun-drenched pie?