I feel like I constantly hear the phrase, “That WOULD happen to you” from my most intimate friends. Is it my generally naïve demeanor, or am I just a magnet for quasi-unfortunate events? I like to think that it is neither of these things and that I have been chosen to serve honorably as an example to my luckier counterparts, a how-to manual in reverse, if you will. Here are the best of my failures while traveling abroad.

Swissness is a word usually used to describe what makes the average Swiss citizen tick. It may be what motivates lawn care workers to climb into each tree at the end of the fall to remove all the remaining leaves. It could also be what drives the police to search through garbage to track down those who dared to throw out a plastic bottle (don’t even try to jaywalk here). My favorite stereotype, and perhaps most contradictory, is that of the Swiss military.

I sadly did start to miss the weekly Thursday gathering of the masses outside of half of Dryden Road so I decided to find a Mecca of my own for the drip-sweating, red-faced, wide-eyed twenty-somethings here in Paris. After a simple process of elimination (too expensive, too many girls, too old, too unfriendly, too far, etc.), I finally stumbled upon Le Violin Dingue, located at the top of a hill in between the Pantheon and the Seine in the fifth Arrondissment.

Barcelona is the love child of Gaudi’s architectural brilliance and nature’s pristine shorelines, a haven for club rats and drinkers alike. Despite its blissful splendor, Barcelona is also the pickpocketing Mecca. Here's how to keep it in your pockets.