Well here I am in Barcelona, the fourth most visited city in Europe, behind Rome, London and Paris and it’s easy to see why. In my opinion it’s all about the weather because on the whole it ain’t all its cracked up to be.

Sure you’d trip over a museum or a gallery if you not careful, but there’s really only so much culture a guy or gal can take. Other than that its the same old rigmarole.

Thousands of restaurants you wouldn’t get through in a lifetime, a clatter load of pubs, the obligatory open top bus tour and of course La Ramblas.

A never ending boulevard that’s decent enough by day but a lighting kip at night, full of hookers willing to do unspeakable things to a man’s body all in the love of their art, or more realistically their bank balance!

Then add to the Barcelona mix 20,000 Gers (Glasgow Rangers fans to you and me), all in town for the Rangers v Barcelona match on Wednesday night. Most of them, I might add, without a ticket to their name. Just bald heads, a rangers jersey, tattoos and short trooosers.

Singing and chanting, louder and louder as they get drunker and drunker on the open streets and squares. They arrived in town 48 hours before the game and on Tuesday morning attacked the shops cleaning them out of every type of drink imaginable, shopping trolley loads of the stuff, beer, whiskey, vodka, gin, the cheaper the better. Then they proceeded to demolish their plastic bags full of booze anywhere they could find an open space, if not they just took over the tables and chairs of the downtown restaurants.

There is something awful scary about away soccer fans, from the so called British empire anyway. It’s easy to see why they are disliked. They behave like uncontrollable waves, moving en masse and communicating to each other in chants and jeers. I just got out of their way and gave the downtown a wide berth. Barcelona tolerates this kind of thing, a bit like temple bar with hens and stags, safety and tranquillity will always play second fiddle to the sounds of money.

Speaking about money, for the man or woman who has everything and is looking for a new holiday destination I hear that space is nice this time of the year, any time for that matter. The latest must have break I’m told is a three day and night stay in a space hotel. Cost? €3 million.

First guests will check in  around 2012, and you’re guaranteed zero gravity, 15 sunrises a day and the ability to make love in weightlessness.

A tough task by the sounds of it as you float 350 kilometres above the earth, but I guess the views make up for it. Its a mad Barcelona man that has come up with the plan and has even managed to snag an investor daft enough to cough up €3 billion.